The Horse-Eels Of Connemara

[BIAD]

In The province of Munster County Kerry is Ireland's most westerly county bound by the Atlantic Ocean, Limerick and
Cork. With many fairly-remote bays and river outlets, such beasties discussed here could well be using freshwater and
the sea to avoid detection.



In 1893, an Irish railway engineer and Commissioner of Public Works had his book printed and within the pages of
'In Seventy Years Irish Life', William Le Fanu wrote about a strange type of creature that dwells within Lough Brin.
The locals undoubtedly had knowledge of what had apparently been swimming around in that small body of water
and they'd even gave it a name. Bran, possibly derived from a legend involving Ireland's Eber Finn's hunting dog
who supposedly drowned in the lake while pursuing a stag. It is often said Bran is a ghost prefers to remain as in
the lough as a water-dog.

Trapped between the Kerry mountains of Cappa and Cooracoosane, the thirty-five fathoms deep lake is only a mile
by a half a mile in size seeps away via the Blackwater River into Kenmare Bay. However, even though Lough Brin
may be small compared to some other lakes, the tales of its inhabitant are quite considerable.

In 1940, a twelve year old boy was playing around on the lakeside when he came across a strange animal seemingly
"basking" on the shore. The startled lad described the creature as black with four short legs, but any further rendition
has been lost. However, not long after two accounts surfaced where one man high upon a mountainside peered down
at Lough Brin and watched a huge wave appear in the middle of an otherwise calm surface. Another local reported
hearing strange splashing while walking home one dark evening.
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On Christmas Eve of 1954, Timothy O'Sullivan -a local man who farmed on the side of Cappa mountain, went to
retrieve his cows for milking when he noticed what he took to be two ducks in the lake. It was only when these
presumed waterfowl began to rise further out of the water, did O'Sullivan realized they were what appeared to be
fins standing about two feet tall and two feet long.

Adding in his account that these appendages were at a distance of twelve feet from one another, he said they rose
up and fell four times only sixty yards from shore. Racing home away from the frightful sight, the cowman ignored
his wife's confusion and loaded his shotgun. But with Mrs O'Sullivan accompanying Timothy back to Lough Brin,
the waters were calm and no unusual objects could be seen.
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On the 9th of August 1996, a chap called John Redman was happily driving his lorry along the road by Lough Brin
at about nine o'clock at night when he noticed to his left what appeared to be a big truck upside-down in the field.
Bewildered at the odd sight in such a lonely setting, John noticed that the shadowed object had a string of bright
lights pointing towards the sky.

Contemplating a situation where his usual pattern of life would be disrupted, Redman decided to carry on driving
and made no attempt to check up on the abnormal scene. Arriving home, the rattled man decided to relate the
incident to those he trusted. But years later, the account came out and further details describe the object was
about thirty feet across with protuberances sticking out of it that merged with the formation of illumination.
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If one travels only a few miles westwards, there's another mysterious glacial lake that is fuelled by a multiple of
boggy meadows, pools and bodies of water that rival its own size. Cloon lake is situated deep within the Kerry
mountains between the craggy peaks of Knocknacusha and Mullaghanattin. Lough Cloon itself flows into the
River Owenroe and after travelling many miles north before becoming the larger Lough Leane and eventually
empties out via River Laune into the Atlantic.


Lough Cloon.

Often described as 'wurrums' that are thought to seek refuge in the surrounding sodden peat bogs, a local man
named as Paddy Glanville noticed during an unusual cold spell on the lake, strange holes were seen in the
frozen surface around the marshes. A note that is reminiscent of the sneaky serpent from Lough Corrib.
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So... fireside tales of privacy-seeking creatures lumbering through wind-blown reedbeds told in an old-school
vernacular that entertains the idea of a bygone world when times were simpler or misidentification of everyday
animals? Maybe our accepted history shouldn't adhere to the notion that dates, times and elaborate scrolls
of calligraphy as evidence of rationality in our past and ponder why these stories endure.

Maybe out there beneath the rain-lashed boglands, the answer to our daily drudgery of life awaits.