After foolishly getting quite excited about (and engaged with) the soul-sappingly predictable thing that was the general election, it's high time I turned my gaze from prosaic matters and focused on more important, magical things. Coming into focus today: Sea Monsters.

Way back in October 2005, when fustar.info was but a mewling babe, I related the blood-curdling (1922) tale of The Mystery of the Monster of Limerick Docks. At the time I promised to dig out a copy of Denis O'Shaughnessy's Limerick: 100 Stories of the Century to flesh out the rather sketchy details I'd gleaned from Graham J. McEwan's Mystery Animals of Britain and Ireland and the Limerick Leader. Despite my half-arsed efforts the book had remained, like mystery beasties themselves, frustratingly elusive. That is, until now.

Goodbye sketchy details, hello not-very-detailed sketch:

The artist was one Stephen O'Gorman (a Limerickian who'd emigrated to Birmingham) and the above depiction was submitted to the Limerick Leader after they'd reprinted the story in 1974. The original witness was Mr. A. E. Aldridge (of Gloucestshire), master of a schooner docked in Limerick at the time. A quick (updated) recap of his account is in order:

He and his crew were getting the ship ready to sail on high tide in the afternoon when the mate called him from the cabin: "Captain! Come up here at once!"

"When I reached the deck I saw the quays on both sides of the river crowded with people and they were watching the most amazing sea creature they or I had ever seen or read about. The object was close alongside my vessel [resembling] in size and shape…a small submarine. It was large and black and shining and it had a very long neck, at least twelve feet long, held proudly erect and shaped like a swan's. It waved its small head from side to side and its bright shining eyes seemed to express alarm.

"Behind its long neck for a distance of ten or twelve feet was a massive black cone-shaped hump."

Mr. Aldridge then stated that at this stage the monster was heading upstream at a very slow speed and seagulls in the vicinity flew off in fright. He then described how the creature eventually turned and headed downstream.

My original post on the incident ended there, but (as Mr. O'Shaughnessy tells us) "this extraordinary story was not yet concluded". Back over to you, A. E. Aldridge:

"After we had passed Foynes [on the Shannon Estuary] it was nearly dark when I and the crew heard a blowing sound, like a porpoise makes when it surfaces for air, and we saw the long neck of the sea creature shoot out of the water; then it disappeared. It returned within a few seconds surfacing to blow and take in air again. This it did again and again and we eventually left it behind. This was the last we saw of it." (O'Shaugnessy, p.7)

As Aldridge notes, the banks of the river were teeming with (presumably) agog locals. One of them was the afore-mentioned Stephen O'Gorman, and his recollections colourfully corroborate those of the bould Capt. Aldridge.

Stephen was a teenager at the time and was playing handball in Shannon Street with several of his pals when suddenly they noticed that people were gathering in large numbers at the quayside. "We immediately joined them and to our amazement saw this strange creature in the middle of the river. It was travelling very slowly towards Sarsfield Bridge."

"The creature travelled as far as Limerick Boat Club and then turned back[…]A group of Free State soliders with rifles came dashing by (I believe they came out of the Strand Barracks) and they kept pace with the creature. When it passed the end of the Docks…they opened fire from Cleeve's Bank and every so often they repeated the shooting until the creature passed Barrington's Pier and finally disappeared into the distance."

"They did not hit it, merely content to hit the water just behind it. I believe they were just trying to encourage it on its way".

Nice to see that the Free State soldiers were operating on a principle later prevalent in 50s B-Movies: "It's something that defies our understanding! Quick, Shoot it!"

So there you have it. What makes the tale so fascinating and unusual is that the incident took place in the middle of a city, apparently in full view of dozens of witnesses. I'm not sure if O'Gorman's sketch was done at the time, or not till 1974 when he offered his account. I suspect the latter, so it's likely his depiction was influenced both by Aldridge's story and the "Nessie" lake/sea monster template that had (by then) become prevalent.

Whatever the case may be, it sure beats readin' or writin' about the terrifying, unstoppable behemoth that is Fianna Fáil.