'Who's chair is that?' on site at the sinking of the Shingle
A chair rises up from the depths just after the MV Shingle sinks into Killala Bay. Picture: John O'Grady
At 2.30pm last Wednesday, members of the media, draped in life jackets and carrying cameras, clipboards, drones, microphones, pens and notepads embarked from Enniscrone Pier to watch the sinking of the MV Shingle.
The weather was immaculate; Enniscrone could well have been Costa del Sol, packed with sunbathers out enjoying the September summer.
The boat we were on was attached to Blacksod Sea Safari and was called the Vagabond, which some might argue is a very apt name for a vessel carrying media personnel.
We arrived at the Shingle to see boiler-suited clad men running around onboard, putting in the final preparations and triple checking nobody had left a phone or a roll of €100 notes behind.
The valves of the MV Shingle opened up around 3pm and the Atlantic Ocean entered the former smuggling vessel and then – we waited.
It took around an hour for the waters to flood the ship and once the ocean began flowing through the corridors, the Shingle was gone very quickly and the space it previously occupied became almost ominous.
Having now witnessed it up close and first hand, I can now confirm watching a ship sinking to the bottom of the ocean in real time is much closer to paint drying and the blanket defence in terms of an experience than you would think. At least someone thought to play Celine Dion in those final moments.
The excitement came right at the end and suddenly, it was all over. Then when it was all over, a chair rose up from the depths, the final death rattle of the MV Shingle.
It was quite the visual spectacle and our photographer John O’Grady had one of his finest hours, as you will see from his work in our print edition.
To be fair, we only had to wait an hour; Cllr Michael Loftus and the Ships 2 Reef group had been waiting a lot longer. Cllr Loftus was in jovial spirits on board the boat with his fellow local councillors and we passed them a few times.
“I’m trying not to sink the political ship,” he shouted jokingly as he drifted by.
The open ocean in Killala Bay would have been a great place for a canvass, if any of the local councillors had any canvassing to do. There were countless boats, canoes, RIBs (rigid inflatable boats) and all sorts. What was even better, out of all these boats out in Killala Bay, only one of them sank.
