The first day, he and I visited his auntie Phyllis who was a nun in the Sisters of Mercy convent in Rosslare, County Wexford.  That night, we drove on and shared a single bed together in her sister Auntie Eileen’s small public housing bungalow in Dungarvan, County Waterford, near the site of the Power family’s homestead at Graiguerush, County Waterford (Power is a very common surname in Waterford and is derived from the gaelic “de Paor” which in turn derives from the norman “de Pauvre” (of the Poor)). 

The next day we moved on to Mallow, County Cork where we stayed with his “batty” Auntie Marcella (she had dementia) and her single, long-suffering son Donal who lived with her and who took care of her.  Dad’s old Opel Corsa stopped driving properly and I remember that we had to delay an extra day to get the “CV joints” replaced (I still don’t know exactly what that means!).  (Ireland in the early 1970s was still relatively economically depressed pre-“Celtic Tiger” and my Dad always bought used cars with high mileage that often needed mechanical attention).  

We then moved on to stay with his longtime buddy from the Irish Meteorological service, Tony Duff who lived in Caherciveen, County Kerry.  The first night I went to my first ever “all you can eat buffet” at a local hotel and promptly stuffed myself to the point that I explosively threw up when we returned to Tony’s flat (apartment).  The next day, dad told me we were going to take a boat to these historic islands off the coast of Kerry – the “Skellig Rocks”.  Tony knew a sea captain and chartered a fishing boat to take us.  The captain’s son was about my age and was on board, and he and I chatted and played on the 10 mile sea ride to the islands.  It was a lovely warm day in June – and when we docked the other kid and I had fun getting into our swim trunks and diving into the ocean from the dock on the island.

The two jagged lumps of rock protruded upwards from the expanse of the Atlantic ocean that are the two Skellig islands and are incredibly visually impressive as you approach them from a boat.  Historically, monks in the 5th and 6th centuries chiseled steps from the landing areas up to the summit of Skellig Michael and built bee-hive huts where they then lived and prayed.  This was at a time when Christian texts were being developed, preserved and protected from attack by marauding invaders. As a 12-year old, this was an awe-inspiring climb from the landing area to these beehive huts and prompted me to reflect as a child on our Irish history and commitment to the preservation of Christianity in the face of attack.  

While climbing the steps to the summit, an added bonus that was so exciting was to encounter all the beautiful small puffins in nooks and crannies, thousands of whom nest on this outcropping during warm summer months only to all leave on the same day each year to fly westward to their new homes in the Atlantic ocean.  

In the early 1970s in Ireland there were still human lighthouse keepers manning remote lighthouses at important key locations, such as the Skellig rocks. So, as we descended from the summit, our sea captain and Tony walked us over to the lighthouse and introduced us to the keepers. We had hot tea and cookies with them as the grown ups chatted about current events and other things that a 12 year old cannot comprehend. 

While climbing the steps to the summit, an added bonus that was so exciting was to encounter all the beautiful small puffins in nooks and crannies, thousands of whom nest on this outcropping during warm summer months only to all leave on the same day each year to fly westward to their new homes in the Atlantic ocean.  

Our day finished with Tony consuming his usual daily quota of 8 to 10 pints of Guinness at Pauline’s pub “The Anchor” on main street Caherciveen (which is no more).  In a small Irish town with little else to do in the evenings and weekends after work, this was his “hobby”.  I recall him reflecting to us at one point – with a table of over 10 pints of Guinness sitting in front of him and his compatriots – that he didn’t really like the taste of stout and was mainly drinking it for its’ effects. 

After living and working as a teaching physician in the United States as a citizen since 1996, in 2018, my family and I visited my elderly mom in Dublin and our family decided to re-visit Skellig Michael for a day.  My wife and  our American teenage children were equally impressed, as I had been as a 12 year old, with our trip to the Skellig rocks  My kids had seen the most recent Star Wars movie which included a final action scene on the summit.  

Long live the Skelligs! – and the notion of preserving a critical and important ideological mindset at a distance removed from the mainland, despite its’ challenges to access.  

David Power, MB BCh BAO, University of Minnesota Medical School