Liner Tenders on Galway Bay

  1964 marked the arrival in Galway of the former Steam Tug Calshot. It’s main duty was to act as tender for Holland-America liners which anchored off Salthill or Ballyvaughan, the Port channel being too shallow for their approach. 

Previously known as the Steam Tug CALSHOT. 

Previous to this, liners had been served by both the old Aran ferry, S.S. Dún Aengus  and from 1958 by the newly arrived M.V Naomh Éanna. Former crew member Bartley Beatty remembers some difficult days with transfers in the bay as the gangway took on a life of its own. 

 

The Naomh Éanna was eventually adjudged to be unsuitable for the transfer of passengers in less than perfect weather so the Holland - America line purchased the more stable Steam Tug Calshot and had it refitted with diesel engines in Rotterdam, renaming it M.V Galway Bay. 

The Steam Tug CALSHOT at Southampton tending to the famous liner, QUEEN MARY. 

Previous to World War One, many an emigrant for the Americas had left from Galway on the famous Allan Liners but it would be 1927 before liners returned to Galway with the arrival of the North German Lloyd liner, S.S. Munchen on May 20th. The Munchen was piloted into Galway by the famous captain of the S.S Dún Aengus, Limerick man  Senan Meskell. 

A map of Galway Bay showing Galway town, Ballyvaughan and the Aran Islands. In bad weather, passengers arriving or leaving by transatlantic liner were transferred in more sheltered conditions just off Ballyvaughan. 

The return of transatlantic liners in 1927 would revive the melancholic practise where parents and families would gather at different points on the three islands, to wave a last goodbye to sons, daughters, sisters and brothers on board a departing liner, knowing that it was likely their loved ones were seeing the islands for the last time. 

A photograph taken in 1938 at Inis Meáin by the famous German folklorist Heinrich Becker. (1907-2001)

The photograph is part of the wonderful Becker Archive  held by the National Folklore Commission.  

By 1930 the number of liners calling at Galway had increased greatly and in order to keep them coming, the Harbour Board decided to buy an old Liverpool- Birkenhead steam ferry S.S. Lincolnshire, as a permanent tender in Galway Bay. This boat they renamed S.V Cathair na Gaillimhe. The cost was £5,250. 

The port of Galway was very busy in the 1930s as this was the age before mass air travel. A sign of things to come was Captain Meskell of the SS Dún Aengus, witnessing from the Aran Islands, the first East West flight of the Bremen,  passing overhead in April 1928 as it headed for Canada. The jet age was on the horizon.

The BREMEN and it’s crew of three about to leave Baldonnell on their famous 36 hour journey across the Atlantic. There were great celebrations on both sides of the ocean when they landed safely in Canada. 

In 1933 over a hundred liners visited Galway Port carrying nearly 10,000 passengers. 

Galway’s days as a liner destination would come to an abrupt halt with the onset of WW2 and the last liner to call until 1958 was a Japanese ship, HUSIMI MARU, evacuating 400 nationals on November 6th 1940.

Japanese children who arrived by liner in Galway Bay in November 1940. They had come from Lisbon and stopped off in Galway to pick up some U.K based refugees, escaping home to Japan by way of the Panama Canal. 

 Two American liners had previously done likewise for U.S. citizens wishing to get home as Europe descended into barbarism, the last being the  packed ‘SS Washington’ leaving Galway in July 1940.  

The upper and lower decks of the Cathair na Gaillimhe were crowded in 1940 with American refugees fleeing the war in Europe. They were being brought to an American ship anchored in the bay. 

With no liners calling, the ‘Cathair na Gaillimhe’ lay almost idle and in 1942 an attempt was made to sell it as maintenance costs were excessive. It would be six more years before she finally departed Galway, being towed to Cork by the Steam Trawler Ebro.

And so, with no liners calling, the need for a tender vanished until in the 1950s, an effort was made to entice the Ocean Liners back to Galway Bay. 

In 1958 the Holland-America line was persuaded to make a stopover at Galway which resulted in their S.S. Ryndam arriving during the races on July 31st. The first liner to enter Galway Bay since 1940. The recently arrived MV Naomh Éanna was praised for its work in ferrying passengers and baggage ashore. 

Among the passengers in 1961 who arrived in Galway Bay on the S.S. Maasdam on route to America, was Lee Harvey Oswald and his wife and child. Two years before JFK visited the city. The rest is history. 

The liner MAASDAM which was a regular visitor to Galway between 1958 and 1968. 
Along with its sister ship RYNDAM, it offered budget travel by sea. 
The RYANAIR of the 1950s

The liners RYNDAM and MAASDAM would continue to be serviced by the Naomh Éanna until the Holland-America line decided in 1964 to buy the old Steam Tug Calshot in Southampton and rename it MV Galway Bay. 

After being fitted with new diesel engines in Rotterdam, the MV Galway Bay headed for Galway on May 27th 1964.  Encountering fog on the way, it was late getting to Galway where big celebrations had been planned. It arrived on Tuesday June 2nd and a large crowd gathered to welcome it to Galway.

Among the crew who flew to Holland to bring the Galway Bay home was the late Tom Savage. His record here shows him being in The Hague in May 1964. Tom stayed with the boat until it finished up for the season and was delivered to Limerick.  
Many thanks to his son Gerry. 

Tom Savage can be seen here on the left  on board the old MV Naomh Éanna at Céibh Chill Rónáin in 1977. Tom was drowned near the Golden Gate Bridge, San Francisco in January 1994 when his trawler was in collision with a huge container ship. 
Also featured are fellow crew members Tony Quinn and Charlie Boyle in the white cap on right. 
(Photo by Raoul Lemercier) 

On the way home to Galway it had stopped off at Cobh to discharge the worlds largest model ship which occupied most of its deck. This was a two ton model of the liner S.S. Rotterdam which was over forty feet long. It was bound for the Horse Show at Ballsbridge in Dublin. 

Intercontinental Hotel Dublin, June 1964

The man appointed as Master of the Galway Bay was one of the town’s most famous mariners, the late Paddy Cantwell. Paddy was unable to take command for some weeks so the job of taking her back to Galway went to Captain Jack O’Sullivan of Limerick Steamship Company, whose brother Tim was the Galway Port pilot. 

Captain O’Sullivan with two of the four passengers who travelled with him from Rotterdam to Ireland. One of the others was the well known painter, designer and cartoonist Eppo Doeve. 

On Sunday June 6th 1964 the GALWAY BAY made her first visit to the islands when the local Galwegians Rugby club chartered her for what turned out to be a great day out. The Connacht Tribune carried a report of the club’s forward thinking. The club flag was hoisted on the Galway Bay and the President and Vice President, Jack Deacy and C.P. Crowley led the way. 

Not to be outdone, the local Galway Observer reported that the local Corinthians rugby club had visited the island just before them. They had travelled on a yacht belonging to Dave Fitzgerald of Tynagh mines and included their trainer Paddy Griffin with players Dave Fitzgerald, Don Armstrong and Mick Hackett. 

The two paper’s reporting, possibly reflected the sporting loyalties of the two reporters. 

The MV Galway Bay started her new role as Liner tender with the arrival of the S.S. MAASDAM on June 15th 1964, when 204 passengers arrived from New York. Most were Irish Americans returning to see their relations and their roots. 

From late in June 1964 when it began regular services until late September, the ‘Galway Bay’ carried over 7000 visitors to Cill Rónáin. 

As a result of efforts by Ballyvaughan Development Association and with support from Clare County Council, it was decided to recreate the days when steamboats called regularly at different ports on Galway Bay.

1940 marked the end of regular trips between Galway, Ballyvaughan and the Aran Islands. 

The S.S. Duras availing of a high tide to access the pier at Ballyvaughan around 1900

Access to Ballyvaughan is greatly governed by the tide and so it was that Captain Cantwell’s son Pat remembers being awakened at an ungodly hour on Sunday August 9th 1964 before the ‘Galway Bay’ headed for Ballyvaughan to catch the morning tide. She docked there at 6:50am and left for Cill Rónáin at 8:30am.

A postcard showing many aspects of the old passenger ferry, MV Galway Bay. 
From the extensive postcard collection of Mark at The Days of the MV Naomh Éanna, Facebook page. 

This was the first ferry to enter the port since the S.S. Dún Aengus had made her last call there in 1940. 

The day was perfect and a great crowd of 310 headed off for a two hour cruise to the islands. Among the passengers was Mrs Bridget Mullins from Ballyvaughan, who had travelled previously to the islands on both the SS Duras and the SS Dún Aengus. 

Conscious no doubt that the waters of Galway Bay are shared by two counties, the local Clare Champion newspaper carried a report on the only Clare member of Crew. Sinon would go on to spend time as Master of the MV Galway Bay before being appointed Harbour Pilot in Galway.

After getting mass in Cill Rónáin, most headed off with local jarveys for a tour of the island. However, some joined a large crowd of locals in the former schoolhouse to watch Galway defeat Meath in the All Ireland football semi final. The start of a golden era for Galway football. 

The Galway Bay arrived back in Ballyvaughan to catch the evening tide and docked at 7:pm. One passenger remembered once missing the tide on the SS Dún Aengus and having to spend six hours anchored before getting to disembark. 

As can be seen from this photo taken in May 2025, access to Ballyvaughan Pier is hugely governed by the tides. 

Paddy Cantwell got back to Ballyvaughan in time in 1964 but even if he had been forced to wait on anchor for six hours, his vast store of anecdotes, yarns and repeatable jokes, would have helped pass away the time. 

As well as liner tender duties and excursions to Cill Rónáin, the M.V. Galway Bay in the 1960s offered evening cruises on the Bay. Some of our readers may remember those trips. 

From 1964 until retired in 1986, the MV Galway Bay carried hundreds of thousands of passengers on the bay it was named after. 

Returning to her home port of Southampton in 1986, she reverted back to her old steam tug name of Calshot. 

CALSHOT back in Southampton. 

Despite heroic efforts by historic ship enthusiasts, the restoring of Calshot as a reminder of the great Ocen going liners, had to be abandoned. 

M.V. Naomh Éanna shortly before being cut up. 

As with the efforts of Mark Radford and others to preserve the old M.V. Naomh Éanna, both ships have now sadly been scrapped. 

The two old ships can be seen here at Galway dock in this nostalgic painting by the well known Galway based  artist, Derek Biddulph (1925-2008)

Michael Muldoon May 2026

An fear óg a báthadh. . An island remembers.

  Iascaire Pheigín 

The magnificent headstone over the grave of Beachla Ó Fátharta at Parkmore cemetery on the Doorus Peninsula  (Photo Renee Brennan)

Over the centuries, the number of islanders lost to the sea is quite shocking. Most were drowned from boats but many were lost when washed from the rocks while fishing. 

The most famous incident of this kind was when fifteen men and boys were swept to their deaths by a freak wave at Aill na nGlasóg, on the eastern end of Árainn, in August 1852. 

A section of the late Tim Robinson’s great map showing Aill na nGlasóg, Aill an Fhéir and an Sunda Grióra in between them. 

In July 1895 a group of teenagers went fishing less than a mile away at Aill an Fhéir under the cliffs of Inis Meáin.  Once again a rogue wave rose up from the ocean and swept Beachla Ó Fátharta (1875-1895 Bartley Faherty) to his death. 

Waves crashing ashore on the western side of Inis Meáin.

The spot where Beachla was drowned is not far from “Cathaoir Synge” the location John Synge chose three years later to gaze out on an Sunda Griór, the Atlantic, Connemara, Galway Bay, West Clare and the islands. 

A lone sailor passing the spot where Beachla was drowned long ago. This was on a calm day in July 2014.

Although Beachla succeeded in catching a line thrown to him by his younger companions, he was lost when the line snapped. 

The newspapers of the time carried the story of his drowning and the terrible loss to his family, especially his mother Peigín (Margaret) Conneely and his father, Martin Faherty of West Village. 

This should read Bartley FAHERTY

Neighbours, relations and friends searched in vain on shore and sea, amid fears that like so many others, the ocean would be Beachla’s grave. 

However, some weeks later his body was washed up at Trácht beach on the Dooras peninsula, west of the village of Kinvara. The locals laid Beachla to rest in the nearby Parkmore cemetery and here he lay in an unmarked grave for many decades. 

A 19th century map of Galway Bay showing the spot where Beachla was drowned at Inis Meáin and the beach on the Doorus peninsula where his body came ashore. 

It was not possible to identify the body but suspecting he was an Islander, a sock was sent to Inis Meáin where it was recognised as Beachla’s by the woman who knitted it. 

Synge arrived on Inis Meáin three years later and it’s not hard to figure out where he got a similar sad identification event for his play, ‘Riders To The Sea’. This method was used on more than one occasion. 

 Many years ago some island relations decided to find the spot where the lad known on Inis Meáin as “Iascaire Pheigín” was buried. Among those involved in this act of remembrance was our good friend and our former Irish teacher at St Mary’s College in Galway, Micheál Ó Concheanainn.

Micheál was a great teacher and we can remember his green Morris Minor car being always available in the 1960s to bring students to various sporting, academic and cultural events. A generous man with a great sense of history. 

Trácht beach near Kinvara, where the body of Beachla Ó Fáharta was discovered in 1895. 

Although this was over 70 years since the tragedy, Micheál was fortunate to meet an old man who remembered the story of the Aran lad washed up in 1895 and knew where he was buried, having attended the funeral as a boy. 

The simple wooden cross which for many years marked the grave of “Iascaire Pheigín” at Parkmore cemetery near Kinvara. 
Photo from a 2012 North Atlantic Skyline blog by John Smyth

About ten years ago a relation of Beachla’s, Dara Ó Fátharta from Inis Meáin, carved a simple but stunning headstone from a piece of island limestone. 

The well known poet and historian Dara Beag Ó Fátharta (1920-2012) was a nephew of the drowned “Iascaire Pheigín”. 
Dara Beag’s son Dara, carved the headstone for his granduncle Beachla.

During the annual Kinvara Cruinniú na mBád Festival in August 2015, the  Leath-bhád ‘NORA’ skippered by Seán Mac Donncha of an Cheathrú Rua, diverted to Inish Meáin and added Beachla’s headstone to its cargo of Connemara turf for Kinvara.  

Photo by Joe O’Shaughnessy of the Connacht Tribune. 

Beachla’s headstone travelled the same journey his body had drifted one hundred and twenty years earlier. 

The result is a magnificent memorial over Beachla’s grave which has been visited by many islanders over the last ten years or so. 

The ruined church at Parkmore cemetery.
Photo Renee Brennan 

A curious coincidence is that Beachla’s journey from the Aran islands to Trácht beach was a repetition of the journey Naomh Ciarán (516-546) made by boat in the 6th century. He was leaving his heartbroken community after seven wonderful years with Naomh Éanna on “Ara na Naomh”, on his way to eventually founding the great monastery at Clonmacnoise on the Shannon.  

Naomh Ciarán , Journeyed by boat from the islands to Doorus. 

Iascaire Pheigín (“Peggy’s fisherman”) and Ciarán mac an tSaeir ("Kieran, son of the carpenter"), two men who died young but are still remembered. 

Michael Muldoon. 

November 2025.

A rough day on Galway Bay in 1954

In October 1954 the Sunday Independent ran an article describing the day journalist Patrick Conroy spent fishing in the North Sound with the Aran Islands trawler, M.F.V Ros Breasail.  Built in 1952, this was the first of the ‘Ros’ class of trawler to arrive on the islands and was owned and skippered by a legend in Irish fishing, the late Pat Joe O’Donnell of Cill Éinne  

At 4 am  on an October morning in 1954, the journalist joined  29 year old Pat Joe and his five crewmen as they slipped out of Galway harbour. They were headed for the fishing grounds and here is the report Patrick Conroy filed after what sounds like an uncomfortable twelve hours on Galway Bay. 

Galway Docks where Pat Joe O’Donnell and his crew were joined by a newspaper reporter for a fishing expedition in October 1954. As can be seen from this photo,  there were then two separate docks in Galway which would be joined together in the 1960s. 
(Photo from The Old Drone: Norman Ashe collection curated by Patrick Kiersey)

A TRIP TO THE FISHING GROUNDS OFF THE ARAN ISLANDS by Patrick Conroy. Published October 31st  1954

TUSSLE WITH RELENTLESS SEA. 

On board the tiny fishing trawler Ros Breasail, we nosed through the heavy swell of wind and rain which enveloped Galway Bay. 

It was 4a.m on an October morning, three hours before dawn and we were on our way to the North Sound, north-west of the Aran Islands, thirty miles away. 

The bleak darkness of a blustering Autumn morning chilled the body and all thoughts of a soul-stirring trip through famed Galway Bay gradually faded as we inched past the pier, out through the harbour entrance and the marker lights winking reply at us in the gloom. 

The late Pat Joe O’Donnell (1924-1982) of Cill Éinne, skipper of the Ros Breasail. Pat Joe showed an enthusiastic reporter just how difficult a fishing expedition can be in rough seas. 

HEADING OUT TO SEA.

No word was spoken until we had rounded the first buoy and were heading out to sea, then the skipper nodded to crew member Peter Donohue and laconically ordered “Take the wheel”. A moment later he had disappeared below. Nothing could be seen through the tiny wheelhouse windows. The rain lashed itself to a frenzy outside and the wind whipped gobs of water from the glass only for it to be replaced immediately afterwards. 

The M.F.V Ros Breasail (D319) in Cuan Chill Éinne.
Photo Bailiücán Béaloidis Árann

                              

 

The wheelhouse was big enough to hold two, which gave a feeling of security as the boat pitched and shuddered on its way. Occasionally, we opened one of the small windows to look out, but a shower of spray from the bow as a wave struck the boat head-on caused us hastily to fasten up again. 

Peter Donohue is a square-cut man, reflecting in his face and powerful shoulders, the robust life he led. 

“I am an Aranman” he said, simply “ all of my people are from there. I was born there. I spent my life in a currach fishing before I joined up with Pat Joe” (Pat Joe O’Donnell is the skipper and owner of the boat)

Peter Donohue’s family are still involved in fishing and his son Bertie fishes out of Cill Rónáin. Bertie’s wife Niamh and family operate a very popular food wagon at the foot of Dún Aengus, selling their own freshly caught fish. 

Then, like all solitary men of the sea, Peter slipped into silence, occupying himself with the wheel and the compass, which gave a dim reflection from the small oil lamp burning beside it. 

ON THROUGH THE STORM

On through the darkness and the storm with no sound from the other crew members down below. One peek at the “below decks” department revealed an enclosure of about three yards by three, which, at first glance gave the impression of being empty, but closer inspection showed that there was a double row of bunks on either side of that small space, which for comparison, looked like rows of small boxes on their sides, on top of one another. Certainly the bunks were no higher than the width of the fish boxes on board. There, the crew were snatching a rest. 

A Pathe News image from those days giving an idea of sleeping arrangements aboard a fishing trawler in the 1950s. Tough men doing a tough job. 

 

Towards dawn, the storm abated and the long lonely line of the Connemara coast could be dimly discerned through the thinning darkness. But the boat continued to pitch and roll and I had to brace myself against the sides of the wheelhouse to keep from being thrown about. 

As the first grey streaks of light commenced to filter through, there was the odour of frying bacon and the sound of crew members astir. Long yellow oilskin coats and white rubber gloves were being donned. In five minutes the boat had become a hive of activity. 

SKIPPER TAKES OVER. 

The skipper took over and Peter Donohue hurried to join the others who were by this time working at their various tasks preparing the gear. They moved about the pitching deck with the ease of flies walking across a ceiling. 

There was big John Faherty (who had lost his own fishing boat two years ago during a storm off Aran), Myles Joyce and McDara Joyce; already mentioned Peter Donoghue and 18 year old Kieran Gill, the youngest fisherman aboard.

The teenage fisherman aboard the Ros Breasail was the late Ciarán Gill of Cill Rónáin. In September 1966 Ciarán took control of his new boat the M.F.V Ard Scia.  He trained many young fishermen and he worked the Ard Scia for many years with his two late brothers, Matt and Sylvester. 

In the course of researching this article we were reminded of the huge debt of gratitude Irish and Aran fishermen owe to the late Brendan O’Kelly (1928-2017) of Bord Iascaigh Mhara. Brendan was very vocal in pointing out that Ireland was conceding too much on the fishing front during entry negotiations into the E.E.C. Time would prove him right.

Against the odds, Brendan fought a heroic battle to protect and encourage the Irish fishing industry and is remembered for his kindness and support to island fishermen. May he rest easy. 

 All natives of the Aran Islands, these men together with the skipper, showed by their appearance the hardy stock from which they had sprung; they shifted heavy gear around as Lightly as one would shift an empty box. 

Watching them at work on that tiny trawler, one got the impression of the drilled precision of a man o’ war detail clearing the decks for action.

Suddenly came an order from the skipper, “Prepare to shoot”. It was fully light and we were on the fishing grounds after three hours journey. The wind continued to whip the waves but the rain had stopped. 

Myles Joyce seized a 15 foot bamboo cane which had an iron weight at one end and red and black flags at the other. In the centre was a massive cork substance to keep it afloat in the sea. One end of the net ope was fastened to it. Myles Joyce threw it spear like into the water. Known as a dahn buoy, it remained half submerged but upright, the flags fluttering from its top. 

Suddenly the thousands of yards long rope in the boat jumped into action. As the boat raced away, the Dahn Buoy dragged coil after coil of rope over the side of the boat, taking the net with it. Soon the Dahn Buoy was out of sight as the boat described a wide circle and it was some time before we saw it again. 

MILES OF ROPE

Eventually, the Dahn loomed upon the starboard side and the skipper slowed down as he manoeuvred the boat close to it. MacDaa Joyce threw out a grappling iron and recovered that end of the rope, while Myles Joyce pulled the Dahn Buoy aboard.

 Nearly two and a half miles of rope had been played out during “the run” and it was now the job of th crew to start hauling it back slowly with the aid of a winch. 

Thus the wide spread net closes gradually on the fish and as the rope is winched aboard the fish are gradually hemmed in and drawn towards the boat. This operation alone took an hour and a quarter. 

While the winch was in action, the boat remained stationary, except for the heave and fall caused by the swell. As they wait for the catch, the crew busy themselves; boxes are got in readiness, knives for cleaning the fish are placed at hand. The winch winding in the ropes is checked. 

Suddenly there is a shout from Big John Faherty “ STOP THE WINCH….ROPE BROKE”

John Faherty is seen here in his New York cab drivers uniform in the 1930s. John was fishing with Pat Joe as his own trawler St Kieran, had been wrecked during a fierce storm at Cill Rónáin pier in December 1951. 
You can read about that incident in this piece we did recently. 

https://www.aboutaran.com/2025/04/babies-on-board-amphibious-busboat.html

At once there is a flurry of activity on board. One of the ropes towing the net has parted. Now the long dreary business of hauling in the entire gear, a few inches a second. (With two and a half miles of rope and net, this is no easy task. Fouling of rope or net on the sea bottom can mean the loss of £270 worth of gear)

The rope will have to be spliced and the whole of the two and a half mile operation, started again. 

DRAWING IN THE NET

The second run was completed. The remainder of the two and a half miles of rope was on board. The winch was stopped and the job of drawing in the all-important net with its precious catch, was commenced. Working by hand, this task took three men. 

At last the catch was hauled on board and emptied. It consisted mainly of whiting with a plentiful sprinkling of all sorts of queer looking fish, from tiny cat fish and dog fish to squid. The skipper silently looked at the miserably small catch and turned away to the wheelhouse. 

Off we raced again.  The Dahn Buoy was shot and we were away on another sweep. While two men manoeuvred the ropes as they spun yard by yard over the side, the others were busy cleaning, sorting and boxing the fish.  Dinner at last, which had been prepared and cooked by each member of crew lending a hand between tasks.  

Th moon was partly gleaming through a night mist as we slowly glided into Galway Harbour. We had been twelve hours at sea and the sum total of the catch was eight boxes of fish. 

Before we tied up I asked the skipper Pat Joe, what he thought of the catch.  “Well” he said “ we have netted 120 boxes of fish in a day—but not often— today’s catch— well it’s all in the game—we’ll start for the farther fishing grounds beyond the Aran Islands at two tomorrow morning. “

He glanced at me with the memory of a thousand  bitter lonely tides reflecting in his eyes, this one-time currach fisherman, rugged son of Aran…”Ah Well” he said, “ it’s all in the game —better luck next time. 

Hats off to the indomitable spirit of men like these, and especially to the gallant men of the “Ros Breasail”

And so ended Patrick Conroy’s article from 1954.

Ml Muldoon August 2025