A Tale of Two Fishes …

Walking along the beach has always been a favourite thing to do.  The sea in all its moods holds a fascination for me, whether it’s a wild southern gale in winter, or watching a spectacular sky in summer as the sun sets over the water in the west.  I love exploring the myriad objects cast up by the sea – shells, sea creatures, seaweed, weathered driftwood, as well as varied other objects resulting from nautical activity.

Back in December, a post on a cousins Facebook page Doonagatha caught my attention.  Doonagatha  (from the Irish "Dún an geata" (translation – " close the gate ") is the name of the property originally farmed by my great uncle Dan, who came out to Australia from Ireland in 1895.  The property is still farmed by his grandson & family today.  The Doonagatha page chronicles daily life on a working beef farm, and is a good read.

So, a typical day on the farm winds up with a run on the Waratah Bay beach for the dogs.  In this particular post, an out of the ordinary discovery is made during the daily walk, of a dead whale washed up on the shore.  I followed with interest over the next few days as attempts were made to identify the species.  Eventually, it was confirmed as a pygmy sperm whale, and the carcass removed by authorities.

©Doonagatha Facebook page 2016.

Used with permission

                                   

Reading about this unfortunate creature sent me back to the diary of my great uncle Fred, where in 1905 he records the discovery of another whale on a beach across the other side of the world in county Clare, Ireland.

On Thursday 25th May 1905 he writes:

Cycled up to Fodra to see a monster fish that was washed ashore last night, and stranded on the rocks.  Walked up again with the girls and Hay after dinner, bringing a tape with me.  It measures 31 feet with a girth of 16. Lacey, the light keeper, took a photo of it.

Saturday 27th May:

Went up to Fodra and took some further measurements of the fish.

Tuesday 30th May:

Amy & I cycled to Fodra to see the fish, but the tide was over it.  Rode up again in the evening & saw it.  Dr. Studdert & others up there.  He says it must be buried or it will spread sickness in the place.

Wednesday 31st May:

Wrote a small account to the Clare Journal re the fish washed ashore at Fodra.

From Pilkington family collection

                        

Monday 5th June:

My account of the fish in Saturday’s “Record”.

"The Saturday Record"  3rd June 1905.

                                       used with permission of Clare Local Studies Centre,
                                                              Ennis, co Clare, Ireland

UPDATE 14/6/2022:  Since publishing this blogpost, the animal washed up on the shore in Fodra in 1905 has been positively identified as a Basking Shark (Cetorhinus maximus). Thanks to Frances Bermingham in Ireland for providing this ID.

Kilbaha–here and there.

Kilbaha, County Clare, Ireland, 1871

It was one of those perfect mid-summer days in July. The balmy air was full of the sounds of summer – the hum of bees, the song of the larks as they soared high above, the gentle lapping of the waves on the shore of Kilbaha Bay, and in the distance the voices of the people gathering hay in the surrounding fields.

Anna Keane Pilkington shifted her large bulk in the chair, and rearranged her voluminous black skirts. She was enjoying the warmth of the sun against the wall of the house behind her, while in front on the lawn her grandchildren played. They had all come for the annual family holiday at Kiltrellig, the lodge her husband Thomas had built for her forty years ago.

Around her, with much jostling and rearranging of positions, her extended family gathered for a group photograph. The photographer had come from Limerick, and Anna wasn’t sure what she thought about this new-fangled contraption which would reproduce her image on paper. She wished they would just get on with it and leave her to enjoy the sunshine in peace.

Finally everyone was in place, and with an admonition to all to stay still, the photographer disappeared under the black drape of his camera and took the picture. The resulting image showed Anna staring rigidly out of the centre of the picture, surrounded by her children and grandchildren, siblings, nieces and nephews.

Family group Kilbaha 1871

To the extended family group – Pilkington, Haughton, Griffin and Keane – this was a special place. They had spent summers here in West Clare for years; long, lazy days spent exploring the rocky coastline, swimming and fishing in the Shannon, boating trips and endless picnics. At night time they gathered in one or other of the homes for a musical evening, each taking turns to perform a song or play a piece.

The children were off exploring all day, with a freedom not known to them in their ordinary lives. Holiday friendships with the local children were renewed each year and reinforced by shared interests and activity. The boys would help with the ricking or other farming chores, and the girls try their hand at the spinning, or baking a soda loaf over the fire in a nearby cabin.

As the years passed, those children grew up, their lives leading them on different paths around the world, taking the memories of those halcyon days in the West with them.

Kilbaha & Kiltrellig, co Clare, Ireland 2014

©Katrina Vincent

‘Kilbaha’, Sandy Point, Victoria, Australia, 2013

One hundred and forty-two years later, in another sea-side location on the other side of the world, I sat at the kitchen bench in a rustic holiday cottage. With me were my sisters and several cousins of varying degrees of kinship. Just back from an invigorating walk along the beach, the hot cup of tea in my hand was welcome in the cool of the late afternoon. In a frame on the wall behind us hung a faded old sepia photograph in which a large group of people posed in front of the wall of a house. A stern-looking old lady dressed in black glared out from the centre of the picture, surrounded by bearded men, women holding babies, and children of all ages.
Among those children were four small boys who grew up and journeyed half a world away to make homes and raise families in this special place.

There was much about Sandy Point to remind those men of their home in Ireland. The sea and the wild isolation of the place in all its seasons drew them and kept them here. They worked the land, battling the tides and the encroaching scrub to make a life for themselves which they could not have had in Ireland. The families supported each other through good times and bad, their children cousins and playmates. In time, the children grew up, and they too moved out into the world to follow their destinies.

Throughout the years, Sandy Point remained the focal point which drew everyone together. Families returned every year, holiday homes were built, and summers were spent swimming, fishing and boating, with picnics in favourite locations. The next generation roamed the beach and the bush without restriction. City kids joined their country cousins for the hay-making and other farm chores, while evenings were spent at one or other of the homes for barbecues or games nights. The link with the west of Clare is reflected in the names of the family homes – Ennisvale, Kiltrellig, Kilbaha.

Times have changed and Sandy Point is no longer the isolated place it was fifty years ago. Others have discovered its secrets and in summer now it becomes a bustling, crowded holiday centre. The freedom we had as children is no more. But still, our children have established their own traditions and Sandy Point continues to be the place to go to relax, refresh and recharge.

On this weekend, descendants of the four Irish men had travelled from all over Australia for a family reunion on one of the original Sandy Point farms. The autumn weather was perfect and the weekend had been full of camaraderie and reminiscence, renewing connections and celebrating the lives and traditions of all those who came before. Displayed on a large table, precious items of family memorabilia told us the tales of yesteryear - the diary of ‘Aunt Charlotte’, Anna’s youngest sister, was written in beautiful copperplate writing and was full of family adventures in West Clare.

Within the cosy warmth of ‘Kilbaha’ cottage, the ghosts of long ago mingled among us giving their blessings to this family occasion. The smell of wood smoke from the open fire replaced the salty tang of the air outside as the evening sea mist closed in. Two little girls, Anna’s four-times-great grandchildren, played quietly together on the rug, while the room echoed with the laughter and conversation of the adults. As Anna Keane Pilkington and her four small grandsons watched silently from their place on the wall, I could almost imagine a nod of her head and a softening of her gaze.
 
©Katrina Vincent 2016.  Written for Writing the Family Saga unit, University of Tasmania.

Anna Pilkington nee Keane 1802-1875

my 2x great grandmother

Getting to know Grandma

Evelyn Maude Dewar 1907

This is my beautiful grandmother, Evelyn Maud Pilkington (nee Dewar).  I never met her or knew her because she died just seven months before I was born.  I was given her name as my second name, an honour which was completely lost on me as a child.  Evelyn was not a name in popular usage during the 1960’s & 70’s, and I tried everything to disown it.  Why, oh why couldn’t I have been given a perfectly normal second name like Anne or Elizabeth, the second names of my sisters? 

My father’s family consisted of a large, extended network of 1st, 2nd and 3rd cousins with whom we maintain close ties to this day.  But I don’t recall my father speaking of his parents very much – and I, thoughtless child that I was, never thought to ask about them while I had the opportunity. 

Eve was born in Rye, Victoria in 1874.  She was the youngest of eight children of James and Margaret Dewar.  The family had moved from Geelong in about 1871, with James working as a lime-burner in the kilns at Rye. Sometime after Eve was born, likely around 1877, James was appointed the manager of a new lime venture along the southern coast at Waratah Bay.  So the family moved to the remote location where the little township of Waratah (now Walkerville) sprang up in response to the demand for lime. 

This was where Eve grew up, among the bush and beside the sea.  The settlement was only accessible by sea, and the community relied on the coastal steamers which plied the Victorian coast for all their requirements. Occasionally, Eve would travel on the steamer on its voyage east, being dropped home again on the return journey. 

Somehow, she acquired a small butterfly tattoo on her ankle, something which she apparently took great care to hide in her later years. 

As a young woman, Eve spent 4 years in Western Australia, where she went to housekeep for her brother Ted.  When she returned to Waratah after Ted’s marriage, she met my grandfather Charles Osburne Pilkington, who had recently arrived from Ireland to join his brothers in a farming venture at nearby Sandy Point.  They married in 1907.

When I was about nineteen, my father retired and my parents moved house.  Among the boxes which accompanied them was one containing a pile of old notebooks – my grandmother’s diaries!  I remember my mother saying dismissively, “Oh those old things – there’s nothing in there of any interest, all she talks about is the weather and what they ate for dinner.”  So the box of diaries was relegated to the back of a cupboard where they remained for the next 30 years, only being rediscovered when we cleared out Mum’s house after she passed away.

I took the box home with me, thinking I should have a look before just tossing them out.  And then I spent the next few weeks getting to know my grandma!  Yes, she started each days entry with the weather, and yes, she often commented on what they ate, but along with that was a wonderful treasure trove of her thoughts and feelings, friendships, family occasions and much more.

Through her diaries I learned of her anguish at losing her beautiful little baby – see A Little Bush Grave.  I read of her hopes and worries for her other children, my father and his two sisters, her heartache when  her beloved Carl, my grandfather, died in 1947.  I discovered a family rift I’d never heard about and how much that upset her, her joy when her children married, and when the first grandchildren came along.  Then her struggle to maintain the house and garden on her own as she aged, the inevitable decision to leave the home my grandfather had built for her, and her reliance on the kindness and generosity of family friends.  Throughout it all, her strong faith was evident, and her belief that the good and bad were all part of God’s plan must have helped sustain her through the difficult times.  Her last diary entry was just a few days before she died.

I now have a connection with my grandma that goes beyond sharing her name, and I know I would have loved her.

Eve & Charlie Pilkington

THE LEAVING

Eve stood in the doorway for the last time. She’d first come here as a bride 45 years ago. Built by her beloved Carl, it was a simple country house, weatherboard walls and corrugated iron roof containing a lifetime of memories. A widow now for five years, she knew it was time to go, but oh! the leaving was hard.

She wandered through the rooms, pausing here and there as memories arose. There was the old range, which had cooked so many meals for family and friends. There the cosy fireplace, around which cold winter evenings were spent. She remembered the musical evenings shared with the other families, and church services, held when the visiting minister made his rounds. Over here, the little room which had been classroom for the children before the men had built the school.

Standing on the verandah, scene of many summer gatherings, she looked out over her garden. It had become too much for her to manage on her own. The yard was sheltered by big cypress trees, planted by the children on a long ago Arbour Day as protection from the fierce easterly winds.

Her eyes were drawn to the path leading into the bush. Never again would she visit the little wooden cross marking the burial place of her darling baby.

Eve knew she would never return to this house. If she came back, it would be as a guest of neighbouring relatives. Resolutely, she picked up her bag and walked out the gate to the waiting car. No more was this home.

© Katrina Vincent 2016. Written for “Writing Family History” unit, University of Tasmania.

"Ennisvale", Sandy Point.

Accentuate the Positive Geneameme 2016

Researching family history is a time-consuming and rewarding pastime. Sometimes little snippets of information are discovered by chance, while others are the result of painstaking research over a period of time.  One little clue will lead to another, until eventually the trail goes cold and the brick wall is reached.  At this point it is easy to become disheartened, and to forget about all the progress which has been made.

So today, prompted by Jill Ball who blogs at GeniAus, I’ve decided to take up her challenge and review my successes over the past year using the template she provides at Accentuate the Positive Geneameme 2016.  Here is my list of positives:

1.  An elusive ancestor I found was:  my 4th great grandmother on my maternal line was Christiana Epton (1796-1875) of South Petherton, Somerset, England.  Although I’d had her name for some time, I knew very little about her.  Thanks to the newly on-line Somerset parish registers, I was able to add a lot of information, including identifying her parents Elias Epton & Jenny Dean, finding a 2nd marriage late in life, and locating her death and place of burial.

2.  A precious family photo I found was:  at a family gathering in March, a third cousin produced a wonderful old leather-bound photo album full of family photos taken in the late 1800’s.  My sister arranged to meet again soon afterwards to copy them, but unfortunately our cousin was concerned about scanning them, so we had to settle for iphone photos.  Not ideal, but better than nothing!

3.  An ancestors grave I found was:  a whole graveyard full of Griffins, my grandfather’s close cousins, in Kilfearagh, county Clare, Ireland.  I hadn’t been able to locate them on a previous visit, so it was exciting to find so many of them all together.

4.  An important vital record I found was:  the 1804 baptism record of my 4th great grandfather, James Miller Way, in the Oxfordshire parish records.  This enabled me to identify his parents, and so take this line back another generation.

5.  A newly-found family member shared: a previously unknown third cousin-once-removed contacted me via my blog after reading about my 2014 adventures in Athy, county Kildare, Ireland, where our mutual ancestors originated.  She is also a blogger, and her blogs filled in information for me about her line of the family, including a photo of my grandfather’s double first cousin.

Thomas Charles Haughton & his wife Margaret

photo courtesy of Cilla Sparkes

6.  A geneasurprise I received was:  finding some of my family in the Irish Roman Catholic parish records.  Given that my family were not catholics, I hadn’t really expected to find anything, but actually found several entries which allowed me to ‘tidy up’ some of the branches on my family tree.

7.  My 2016 blogpost that I was particularly proud of was:  The Stranding of the Strathgryfe.  This was written as a Trove Tuesday post.  I particularly liked doing this one because of the family connection, and also because it drew on information from a variety of sources to tell the overall story.

8.  I made a new genemate who: helped me to navigate and make a bit of sense out of land titles, freeholds and leaseholds, thus allowing me to confirm exactly where land once held by my grandfather is located.  Thank you Susie Zada!

Waratah North Subdivision

Grandfathers land in green

9.  A new piece of software I mastered was:  well I wouldn’t go so far as to say I’ve mastered it, but I have achieved a greater level of understanding of Blogger, thanks to the help and advice received from Jill Ball and others at Australian & Local Family History Bloggers.

10.  A social media tool I enjoyed using for genealogy was:  Facebook, without a doubt!  So many great groups for sharing research and information from all around the world.

11.  A genealogy conference/seminar/webinar from which I learned something new was: Diaspora of the Wild Atlantic Way, the Clare Roots Society conference in Ennis, county Clare, Ireland, in September 2016.  This was a great opportunity to make new acquaintances and renew old ones.

12.  I am proud of the presentation I gave at/to:  no, I don’t qualify for this one!

13.  A journal/magazine article I had published was:  I can’t really claim to have been published, but I did have my blogpost A Little Bush Grave reproduced in the local community newsletter.

14.  I taught a friend how to:  I helped a young friend begin her family history journey by introducing her to ancestry.com and teaching her how to use it to best advantage while being aware of  the pitfalls for the unwary.  She’s found information previously unknown to her, including some great historical family photos.

15.  A genealogy book that taught me something new was:  Carol Baxter’s Help! Historical and Genealogical Truth. How do I separate Fact from Fiction?  Carol has a great writing style which is easy to read.

16.  A great repository/archive/library I visited was:  Cambridge Archives in England.  I found a document a year or so ago in their on-line catalogue which I believed related to my husband’s 2x great grandmother.  We took the opportunity on our UK trip to visit the Archive and obtain a copy of the document.  The staff were really helpful and we were able to research some other useful information while we were there.

17.  A new genealogy/history book I enjoyed was:  Figures in a Famine Landscape by Ciarán Ó Murchadha.  This book contains a chapter about my infamous 2x great uncle Marcus Keane, who was given the dubious honour of the title Exterminator-General during famine times in Ireland.  I had provided a photo of the man for the publication, so meeting the author and receiving a signed copy of his book was a highlight.

18.  It was exciting to finally meet:  Tom & Peggy Pilkington in Ennis, county Clare, Ireland.  I had been briefly introduced to them at a presentation I did in 2014 for Kilrush & District Historical Society, but had no time to follow up on the meeting as I was leaving Ireland the next morning.  Tom is very likely a distant cousin – all available clues would suggest so, but the vital link which would confirm it has not yet been located!  I’ve been in email contact with Tom & Peggy since 2014 but it was wonderful to finally meet them properly in September 2016.  They very kindly showed us around the old Pilkington farmlands and pointed out various landmarks and places of family interest.

19.  A geneadventure I enjoyed was:  visiting Ardreigh House near Athy, county Kildare, Ireland.  Ardreigh House was the family home of my great grandmother Mary Haughton, whose father Alfred Haughton owned the local mill.  The current owner Frank is a keen local historian, and he has restored the home to its former glory (or better, with all the advantages of modern technology!)  Frank and his wife were very welcoming, and I did so appreciate them showing us their beautiful home.

Ardreigh House 1863

Sketch by Sarah Anne Haughton 

20.   Another positive I would like to share is:  completing the Writing Family History and Writing the Family Saga units offered by University of Tasmania.  This was such a fun thing to do, and helped develop important writing skills to tell the family story.  I really appreciated the support and encouragement I received from another genemate, Chris Goopy, who did the first unit with me.