CHAPTER XVII TWENTY-FOUR HOURS IN TRALEE BAY
The coast lay before us in brilliant sunshine. High, bare mountains, seamed with clefts and gullies, with steep, overhanging cliffs, which assuredly have never been trodden by the foot of man. Only at the base of the cliffs, to a height of perhaps 150 yards above the water, we saw a few green patches of grass and low shrubs. What struck us particularly was the jagged, deeply indented ridges of the long ranges of mountains. Gradually the numerous islands and rocks that lay off the shore came into view. It was no very inviting picture. There are, in fact, few coasts more inhospitable and more dangerous from their numerous reefs than the Irish.
We sought persistently with our glasses for any sign of life; any house or lighthouse upon the coast. In vain. There was nothing to be seen but naked rocks. Here and there the coastline was a little withdrawn, so that we thought more than once 'this must be Tralee bay.' But there appeared on either side of it so many other similar openings between the high cliffs that we became confused. That was a decidedly unpleasant surprise.
Relying on my excellent noon observation, which could not be much out, I held on for some way farther. 'Steep shore, deep water,' is a pretty sound rule, so we could safely stand close in. With the chart and the sailing directions open before us, we searched for the entrance. In a quarter of an hour we had found it; having picked up the 'Three Sisters,' a small, three-pointed rock on the south side of the twelve-mile broad estuary of the Shannon. The coast here bends sharply, first to the north-east, then to the east, and then in a wide curve, back to the north-west again. The result is that, in approaching from the sea, one at first sees only a long stretch of coastline, while the bay lies concealed behind it.
I immediately altered course to pass close to the 'Three Sisters,' and from there get my bearings for negotiating the entrance. There is a signal station at Loop Head, on a small island on the north side of the estuary, and I wanted to give it as wide a berth as possible. During the war, this innocent little island might well have developed into a grim monster bristling with guns. Certainly the signal station would be under military control.
Just as we were getting a four-point bearing[12] of the 'Three Sisters,' there appeared over the water on our port bow a small triangular patch of gleaming white, that looked for all the world like a distant sail. Surely it must be the pilot cutter already on the look-out for us? I could have shouted for joy. A few minutes later, however, I made the unwelcome discovery that the supposed sail was assuming improbable dimensions, and it finally revealed itself as the actual island of Loop Head, which I had supposed to be farther north. The sun had played a trick on us, illuminating the western trapeze-shaped end of the island so brightly that it looked in the distance like a large white sail. Disappointment number one.
As soon as I recognised my mistake I altered course to starboard, from which direction there was, for the present, no danger to be apprehended, at least so far as we could see, for only naked rocks frowned down on us. Slowly we worked our way into the bay, anxiously scanning with our glasses every hill, cliff, and gully, but especially the surface of the water ahead. The current, which set strongly southward, tended to force us inshore, and necessitated constant small alterations of course. By 3.30 p.m. we had the 'Three Sisters' two miles on our starboard beam. Loop Head was now clearly visible. Except for the signal station and a few small buildings, nothing else was to be seen upon the island.
But—what was that to starboard? On a broad-topped cliff, some two hundred feet above the water, stood a high signal mast with wireless aerials. To right and left of it peered out half a dozen black muzzles from embrasures hewn in the edge of the rock. The nastiest jar of all was that these guns were bearing right on us, and that a number of English soldiers were getting busy about them, while others were observing us through glasses.
Damnation! I had not been reckoning on quite such a reception as this. I at once sent below all the men whose presence was not required on deck, and the oft-played comedy began once more.