The last was a daytime storm and I so much finally wanted to see the live violence that before mostly had been under cover of the night. But internet pics of blown over trucks made me hesitate and so did the tiles that rattled on my roof.
At four pm, however, there was a blue patch in the sky, so there just might be a moment of sunlight to cheer up the photo of what could be the wave of the century. And as I descended past the Ballinalacken castle the sun came out, glory, hallelujah! Now to get to Arkeen as fast as caution would allow.
Down from the coast road corner the rocks were flounced with with rocketing crests, their spray whaling across the limestone pavements. And I put my window wipers on interval.
Past the blow hole the rock face drops abruptly to sea level. It's a place favoured by tourists for its panorama and well out of reach from the savage freak waves that haunt Ballyreen. On approach an intimidating wash of white water threw across the road. With the sun behind me there was no going back. I shifted my gear down for traction, braced myself, but instead of a devastating blow, suddenly I found myself entering a pearly gate: the sunlight had shone a rainbow into the mass of water that, having lost its momentum, was downing around me.
Normally rainbows tend to move on when approached. This one I drove right into, a sweep of colour splashed on my windshield and was wiped aside. A split-second of ultimacy rushed through my head. Howdoesitevergetbetterthanthis!
And as for Arkeen:
Foam flutters
The sea was still heaving from the umptiest storm and her froth had been gathered by a vortex at the edge of Doolin Pier. There it was whirled up in gusts of flutters that loved to fly into your face. A gig I simply had to grabture.
The pier seemed to have lost the grip of wash-over waves and because at the end the water has a way out, there the odds of getting soaked are least. Halfway two men were talking and for extra reassurance a hooded man joined me. Now just for the sun to shine.
It wasn't that I saw it too late since you can't outrun them anyway. Straight and very towards us a white horse of a wave galoreped. The hood whimpered OMG and sprinted dryward, slipped and fell. I dived behind the wall with high-held camera rolling. If this had to be, it be in the line of duty. The bang rose high above me, followed by a shower and a deep gulp that iced along my spine.
I can't help it, but these surprises always cheer me up, the sudden refreshment, maybe even because I survived it again. But my video camera is in coma, help! The photo I shot the next day from high and dry, with the tele-lens.
Sun spun silk
After the adventure above one should get into dry clothes and warm around the stove. But I wasn't done yet. At the Donkey hefty fountains blasted off and around the bend cauliflower explosions rose. A good reason to keep moving and generate my own warmth. Once there I sought cover against the spray behind a whop-rock and waited for the sun. Such a contrast, without, everything bears a growl, but when she comes she spins the clouding waves to silk:
There may be a message in this, or just a joke, but I can figure how some 5 ton rock can be hurled across the pier wall:
but I find it discombobulating how the sea can shift the pavement:
Photo: Isa Ruediger
This photo of Dusty's fluke was taken at the side of the Doolin Pier where she was hunting. She is upside down and we were wondering what was there as she returned to the same spot time and again. As you see the water was far too murky to discern anything.
A few days later a fisherman told me that currently the ferries would not be able to moor at the pier since the sea bed is littered with rock blocks. So I figure, there could very well be a heap of rocks where fish seek shelter and that Dusty tries to stun them with sound bursts so next she can eat them, up.