Review of Chasing Tides
David Walsh
Author of Oileáin: The Irish Islands Guide
This Ireland kayak circumnavigation book is very different, being written 30 years after the event. 1997 was a different planet, and the now mature author is no longer the “adrenaline fuelled river rat” he says he then was.
“Adult adults” don’t go rock-hopping in their fully laden sea kayak; they take their expedition seriously! But this boy-man was at it from the get go, purely for the crack. Into this cave, through that gap, under that arch, over that reef, he would lose the will to live when the going got easy, and only cheer up when there was trouble ahead – think Ards and then Strangford Lough.
This is one book you may certainly judge by its cover, a detail from an oil painting that beautifully captures the essence and the mood of our beloved activity. Maps, they are the best I’ve seen in a book of this kind, living proof of the theory that “less is more”. Photos? There are none. Not one.
The reason is, but isn’t only, that photography was a different matter altogether back then. For instance, he and another paddler became enthused by evening light conditions to let loose the camera near Hag’s Head, and he writes:
“We took lots of photos, passing the camera back and forth, maybe 7 or 8 in all.”
But then his camera was “lost” in Malinbeg, and with it went all his images up to that point. Interestingly, that was less than 36 in number, and he halfway round the coast. How different were the days of celluloid!
There are terms here I thought would never see the light of day again – Mark Downey Nordkapp, Sea Tiger, disposable camera, screw down hatches, punts, the “Shannon” (I still have mine), and (ask your mammy) Tupperware. My favourite evocation of a time long gone involves strolling up to a nearby town to get the weather forecast in the pub after the 6 o’clock news.
The narrative is presented in simple very straight forward language that makes it a page turner. Honesty shines through the whole thing, brutal honesty, about everything. After so much time he feels free to let loose, praising or slating himself, or anyone and anything he comes across, and the telling benefits. He doesn’t spare his pal Jimmy O’Toole that started with him, nor fiancée Siobhán who was there at the end. Yes, it was hard going, though he mostly makes light of it. Yes, there are the usual blisters and sore bums, and cramping and cold, and of course, the constant wet, wet, wet. The whole story matured in the 30-year delay, and is all the better for it.