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Enjoying a Whaly of a time in a boat trip around Cork Harbour
Enjoying a Whaly of a time in a boat trip around Cork Harbour

Irish Examiner

time06-05-2025

  • Entertainment
  • Irish Examiner

Enjoying a Whaly of a time in a boat trip around Cork Harbour

Very few of us will deny relishing the thought of paddling our own canoe but Cobh's Cork Harbour Boat Hire takes the sentiment to a different level. They give you a motor-powered Whaly boat, (7 knots max) and, after a brief operating demonstration let you loose to self-drive on the water. The only specification is that you steer in the path of a pilot Whaly as it leads you on an hour-long tour of the historic harbour. I'd asked German visitor Sam, who had taken the tour last year, for his impression. 'It's an experience', he smiled. A Whaly is a small boat, made from high-grade polyethylene and is, assures tour guide Tadgh, 'to-tally safe and completely indestructible'. The tour is a mix of sailing and history, but with a lot more sailing. It begins at a tiny hut adjacent to the Quay's bar. The greeting from the young staff reassures that the Irish tourist industry is in safe hands, as they dispense waterproof clothing and life jackets with relaxed chat, good humour and unquestionable efficiency. Natalia, 21 and of Irish/Columbian parentage is the company's content creator with responsibility for Instagram, Facebook and TikTok. Cobh born and reared, she sometimes breaks into an American lilt. She traces it to a childhood obsession with U2, which led to her watching copious band videos on American You Tube! 'I never got rid of the accent!', she laughs. I marvel at the propensity of Bono to get into any conversation. Julia, also from Cobh, outlines what lies ahead — and Bono isn't part of it! 'You'll go out past Haulbowline naval base, over to NMCI (National Maritime College of Ireland), under a bridge, out the other side of Haulbowline and up the side of Spike Island. Then around the back of Spike, over the spit bank and back here. The guide (Tadgh) will stop along the way and tell you a bit about the history of the harbour. You'll enjoy it!', she promises. The staff's love for sailing and respect for the harbour are very evident as Tadgh and fellow guide Reece manage a brief instruction session. Then my Whaly awaits, while two couples occupy two others. It's a sullen, overcast day, the red boats contrasting sharply with the surroundings. The clouds spit infrequent light rain and a moody breeze ruffles the grumbling surface of the water. Considering the plastic craft charged with keeping me separate from that same water for an hour, I'm pleased with the wire connecting my leg to the boat; I'm told it will instantly cut out the engine if I fall overboard! Any concerns are quickly dispelled. Within minutes, I'm in full control and roaring along, not paddling my own canoe, but rattling my own Whaley! Chasing to keep pace with Tadgh and Natalia in the pilot boat, it becomes increasingly exhilarating. Every journey being an inner journey, even steering a tiny boat across a safe tide condenses your world into your immediate surrounds. The more the quayside receded into the distance, the more matters associated with ashore shrank in relevance, including cares. And Bono. Haulbowline is the first stop-off and the boats cluster for Tadgh's synopsis. Haulbowline used to house Irish Steel and was also once the largest dry dock in Europe. 'It has a smaller dry dock within. The story goes that the naval officers keep their yachts there when they retire', he jokes. I think. Then we steer to the NMCI. 'They have a huge sea survival pool', Tadgh informs, 'that replicates any sea conditions, including thunder, lightning and waves. They train to the STCW (Standards of Training, Certification and Watchkeeping)'. Two seals, meeting a different standard, laze on a slipway and half wave a fin. The tide is a little rougher and the boat slaps harder against the flow as we steer beneath a bridge. In the distance, six yachts, spaced apart, head for Crosshaven, or, as Tadgh smiles, 'for gin and tonics'. Pausing at the rear of Spike Island, the rain is now more obvious but it doesn't matter. Tadgh describes a protective 'three-storey trench' running the circumference of the former monastery-turned-prison-turned star-shaped fort. Three British 32-pounder cannons overlook the sea, with 'a range well beyond the horizon'. Forty minutes out, the boat is locked in a mind game against a stubborn tide as we move onto the Spit Bank. At low tide, it's possible to walk the final kilometre to shore. There stand thee now unmanned Spit Bank lighthouse, perched like a half building on spindly red legs corkscrewed into the mud. The lighthouse, operational since March 1853, marks a 90-degree turn in the shipping channel and is 'the oldest of its kind in the world', Tadgh states. (The construction was designed and co-ordinated by blind engineer Alexander Mitchell, who crawled along planks and examined the ironworks by touch). Back onshore, like a kid at the bottom of a slide, the first instinct is to do it again. But I watch the extended Kidney family, all twelve of them, reoccupy the three boats. Cobh natives, they've regrouped from other parts for Easter. 'It's fantastic. The kids love it', says Catherine Kidney. 'We've been out about eight times over the years'. Who needs a canoe?! Larger, Whaly ribs are also available to hire. Website: Tel: 086-0747926

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