The Prediction
Two years ago, my sister-in-law and I were strolling along the streets of Portland, Maine. Dan and I had sailed Equus up the East Coast to Maine. We had the great fortune of arriving in Portland the same two weeks my family was there on vacation.
Kathleen and I may have popped into a pub or two, or three, as we had a girls day out and explored the city. Not important. It was raining and we were dodging to take shelter from one shop canape to another. Suddenly, Kathleen grabbed my arm and said, “We have to stop in here.”
I was hoping it was a pub, but it was not. We stumbled into a mysterious little shop wedged into the front V of a large stone building. Its front jutted right up to a street corner. The shop was hazy and we were greeted by a thick cloud of Jasmine scented incense.
The lobby of the small business was so tiny, we had to stand touching in order to talk to the proprietor. There were only two rooms, the “waiting room”, which comprised of one padded chair, and the room beyond. It was also box-sized. There was a thick curtain that separated the two rooms. If you haven’t guessed by now, Kathleen had dragged me to see a psychic.
I had my reservations, but she paid for two palm readings, so I consented. She sent me in first to be the Guinea pig. I sat down and stared at the woman sitting across the small table in front of me dressed as a Gypsy. Her long, curly brown locks reached below her shoulders. She reached out and took my hand and stared at it with her large doe eyes.
The first words out of her mouth were, “you are a person who weathers storms by adjusting your sails.”
I started laughing. Her serious gaze rose to my face and she questioned my response.
“I live on a sailboat,” I explained. I thought it very humorous those were the first words out of her mouth. In the back of my mind, I wondered if Kathleen had said something to the women before I went in. Since she had never left my side, I knew that couldn’t be true.
The lovely Gypsy woman resumed her reading and told me somewhat vague things, that resembled truths about my feeling, relationships, and aspirations. She even told me that my husband and I were soulmates. Since that has always been my proclamation, those words sent a bit of a chill down my spine.
Now I’m getting to the part of the story that ties this seemingly random tale to the present day. The mysteriously knowledgeable women, unveiling secrets from my palm, suddenly got quiet and the feeling in the room went from mysterious to tense. It was so palpable, I felt as if the barometric pressure had suddenly dropped.
She looked up from my palm and stared for a quiet moment into my eyes. She explained to me that while she was not sure why, but she knew for certain that two years into my sailing adventure (I had revealed we were sailing around the world) I would find a place and be compelled to stay there for a long time.
I laughed, and said, “That’s not likely.” Dan would never interrupt our plans for our very well-panned and precisely detailed voyage.
She insisted and repeated herself. She didn’t exactly know why, but I would see, in two years from now, I would be in the same place for a long time.
Kathleen had her turn with the psychic. I had been waiting in the old saggy chair in the tiny waiting area. I sat in retrospect thinking about everything the psychic had told me.
When we left the strange experience, we walked out into the street and the sun was shining brightly. We drove back to the rented cottage and I immediately told Dan about our visit with the psychic. I told him that two years into our voyage we were going to be staying somewhere for a long time. He laughed.
Two years later, Corona Virus stopped us dead in our sailing tracks. That psychic predicted this monumental pause in our journey, to a tee.
Our Long Stay in Ireland
Ireland has been a wonderful place to be stuck. Our boat has been safely berthed in a marina in Bangor, Northern Ireland. Through the Ocean Cruising Club, we discovered a couple trapped in Australia due to Covid who needed house sitters for their estate in southern Ireland.
April 18th, we rented a car and drove toward the Republic of Ireland to begin house and pet sitting. Since borders were already closed due to the pandemic, we were a bit nervous about getting there. Northern Ireland was sealed like a drum and police barricades were everywhere, sending anyone not on essential travel back to their homes.
Our marina had closed to everyone but liveaboards. There were five of us in the giant marina, and life was getting pretty lonely. We were excited to be taking care of a large home and stretch of property along the coast of Bantry. A German Shepherd and cat were residents there that needed someone to live with and take care of them.
As it turns out, we knew Bantry well. It was the first port we arrived in after we crossed the Atlantic from the Azores to Ireland. We loved the town of Bantry so much, we stayed two weeks longer than we intended. Now we were returning to the first Irish town we fell in love with upon our arrival.
We HOPED we were returning. There were several police stops to get through. Any one of them could decide we were not essential and force us to turn back. White knuckled for the 7-hour drive, we hoped for the best, prepared for the worst.
The Guardia did stop us. I held, clenched in my hands, our passports, and a letter the owners sent us, stating we had to get to their home to take care of their pets as they were trapped in Australia. We prayed it was enough.
Thankfully, it was. Our hearts stopped pounding. We were let through the stops and found our home in Bantry for the next few months. We have 200 acres along the shore of Bantry Bay to take walks with the dog and collect as many fresh muscles as we can eat. We agreed to stay until the ban was lifted and we could sail again.
Until We Sail Again
What we didn’t know, is that we would be staying in an estate built in the 1930s that resembles Downtown Abbey. There are servants’ quarters and mysterious stairways. The house is a museum of relics from around the world. There is even a great hall that was once used as a large dining hall, complete with cathedral ceilings, floor to ceiling windows, and a giant fireplace.
In the hall, the furniture is covered with sheets, and the place is filled with relics from the past. It’s as if one day, time stopped. The residents fled, the dust settled, and all that is left is the soft whispers of the souls that wandered the great hall. Out of the corner of your eye, you can glimpse the shadows of ladies in gowns, men in long coats, as the memories are so strong, they continue to linger.
The rest of the house is heated only by fireplaces. Each night, Dan builds a fire and takes the chill out of the air. During the day, we take walks through the gardens, orchards, and on the many trails and paths along the coastline. Spring is breathtaking with hundreds of varieties of flowers, bushes, and trees, painting the landscape in brilliant colors.
We are enjoying the solitude, freedom to roam, and beautiful ocean views. Despite bonfires on the strand and daily hikes, our souls are restless and we still feel need to travel. We have attempted a few small forays by car to see more of the area, but it has been very limited by the Guardia roadblocks.
We have managed to see the gorgeous countryside that surrounds the immediate area. The range of small mountains provides spectacular views of the sheep dotted green pastures and valleys. Homes and farms range from more modern to ancient thatched-roof dwellings made of stone.
Bovine Encounters
Since we now have the time, Dan is trying to perfect his drone flying skills so we can incorporate aerial videos of our boat and some of the incredible vista we encounter along our journey. Our biggest fear is losing the drone in the water. It’s hard to test your skills when any modicum of failure will result in the watery death of our drone.
All I wanted was a big open field to practice flying where there was no threat of losing the drone in the ocean. The house we were staying at is by the water and filled with trees which make less than ideal for drone practice.
I did recall an open field we had visited when we first arrived in Bantry. In Ireland, you are allowed to walk, hike, or ride your bike on anyone’s property. There were some ancient standing stones used for religious purposes perched high on a bald hillside overlooking Bantry Bay. We had walked through the farmer’s fields and followed the path to the relics.
It was protected by an iron fence and had plaques explaining the history of the archeology. It was high, barren, and the perfect place to practice flying the drone. Dan and I followed the roads that led us there the first time. With the drone in hand, we found the trail leading through the farmer’s field that would take us to the top of the hill and the standing stones.
As we walked up the path to the top of the hill, we noticed a herd of cows lying in the distance by the barn. They were quietly sleeping in the sunshine. We didn’t give them a second them. Soon, we arrived at the old stones and Dan took out the drone to attempt flight.
That’s when I looked over our protected area an noticed the mass of cows pressing against the iron fence, intensely curious about our intrusion. I’m not afraid of cows. In fact, I milked one as a child. We often wandered through cow pastures on the farm where I grew up.
I glanced from a distance at the underside of the cows, expecting to see udders. Sadly, I was disappointed. Not only were there no udders, but there was also a plethora of male anatomy that made me acutely aware that we were surrounded by a herd of young bulls.
I guess we should have been forewarned as not one, but two Irish couples we had asked if we were still allowed to visit the stones because of the lockdown, said, “Yes, but be careful of the bulls.”
I thought everyone who didn’t own cows assumed all herds of cows were bulls. As I mentioned, I’m not afraid of cows. 1,500-pound bulls, well, that’s a different story.
We flew the drone for about an hour, hoping the bulls would get bored and go back to the barn. Apparently, they don’t get a lot of visitors and they loved watching the drone. They were fascinated.
Finally, the drone flying was a success, and Dan packed it up to go home. I was puzzled, contemplating strategies to escape with our lives. Dan took the bulls by the horns, figuratively of course, and just walked out of the enclosure and began waving his arms and yelling.
The bulls were startled and split into two groups. Each went in a different direction. I was not comfortable walking between two herds so I rounded up one group and chased them toward the other. Once reunited, Dan and I waved and yelled until the herd walked in the opposite direction of where we needed to go.
We took a deep breath and started down the hill to make our escape. We kept a careful watch behind us. About ¾ of the way back down the hill, the bulls decided to give chase. We picked up the pace and raced to the other side of the fence. Seconds later, the thundering herd of bulls cantered up to the fence, deeply disappointed they had no chance to play with us.
That was not our only en-cow-nter. We woke up one morning to find a herd of cows loose on the lawn in front of our Irish home by the sea. They were vastly out of place amongst the flowering bushes and bright green lawn sloping to the seaside.
A herd of cows, definitely females, took a holiday. They had broken through their fence and found their way to the lush green lawn of our estate. Within a few minutes, the caretaker and maintenance person for the property were present and trying to round up the cows. It turns out, they are repeat offenders, and the men quickly phoned the farmer to report his cows were out, again.
Dan and I were comfortable herding animals as our horses went on holiday several times a year. We are quite experienced at rounding up renegades. When Dan played polo at the Cowtown Polo Club, he had to herd bulls off the field before every game and practice. Novices, we were not.
As we kept the cows corralled, the farmer eventually arrived in his truck, his 90-year-old father in tow. Dan had to make a mad dash through a very dense portion of the woods when the herd bolted in a last-ditch effort to escape. He turned the tide and the farmer was able to get behind the herd and direct it down the road toward their pasture.
Without a word of thanks, the farmer asked Dan if he would now go back into the woods and find his 90-year-old father who was most like lost.
Dan rolled his eyes and set off to find the elderly Irishman. I followed along with the herd to make sure they made it back to their pasture.
Cows safely home, I searched for Dan but he was nowhere to be found. I walked back down the road and listened for the sound of voices. Finally, I was rewarded when I heard Dan talking. I followed the sound into the woods.
Dan was looking up toward the elderly Irishman who was trying to climb an embankment with a barbed wire fence at the top. Dan was quite perplexed. I shouted out and the old man stopped his ascent and ran back down and toward me.
Obliviously to the pandemic and social distancing, the old man raised his arms and began thanking me profusely. He threw his arms around my neck and planted a huge, lingering, wet, and sloppy kiss on my cheek. As to what he was actually saying, I had no idea. His thick Irish brogue was such that neither Dan nor I could understand a word he spoke.
Dan was arguing with the man about climbing over the barbed wire. Dan explained that if they walked just up the road, there was a gate. The man either couldn’t understand Dan any more than he could understand him or, he was very stubborn.
I took the man’s arm and strolled with him back down the road to reunite him with his son. He chatted with me intently – about what? I have no idea. I nodded and smiled like a bobble-head doll, loving every moment.
Taking One Day at a Time
We met another couple living in a house on the property who happen to be artists and walking tour guides. We spent a sunny afternoon sitting the proper distance from them. I asked about the history of the leprechauns, fairies, and druids. They told us fascinating true stories of the origins of each of these legends. They suggested wonderful places to visit when the lockdown is over that only locals would know about, that intrigued every fiber of our being.
As things relax and travel is allowed again, we hope to delve into some of the mysteries and legends of this incredible country. The beauty, history, and fascinating mysteries of this island are all waiting to be explored. If we can’t sail, we still have plenty of fodder for exploration.
We are so fortunate to live lives filled with adventure even when the rest of the world is standing still. It often seems, adventure finds us, as well as great fortune. We always end up where we are supposed to be, at the time we were meant to be there. We meet wonderful people and love each day and the new treasures it brings.