Skeealyn mysh yn eeastagh

View in Corpus Edit on GitHub Download Text (CSV) Download Metadata (JSON)
Manx English
Ta cooinaght aym er yn traa va’n thammag vooar dy scaddan cheet er coorse yn daa hoilshey. [1] I remember the time the big bush of herring used to come on the course of the two lights.
[1] yn Daa Hoilshey - ‘name of a fishing mark. The ‘two lights’ refer to the two lighthouses on the Calf of Man’ Broderick (1982: 129).
Tra veagh yn keayn lhieeney jees er yn chlag, veagh yn thammag vooar cheet as veagh yn lieen goll marish gys yn ghrunt as cha row eh cheet seose arragh. When the sea would fill at two o’clock, the big bush would come and the net would go with it to the bottom and it would not come up any more.
Veagh shin coayl ooilley. We would lose everything.
Veagh shin cuirr lieh jeh’n ghreie as paart dy cheayrtyn coayl shen. We would cast half the gear and sometimes lose that.
Va enney aym er shenn ghooinney va mainshter baatey, as v’eh cuirr ayns yn thammag. I knew an old man who was master of a boat, and he was casting in the bush.
Ren ad prowal ayns traa gerrid as va eeastagh mie aynjee. They proved in a short time and there was good fishing.
Dooyrt ad dy row eh traa dy chur er boayrd. They said it was time to haul on board.
“T’eh ro leah foast,” dooyrt yn mainshter. “It’s too soon yet,” said the master.
“Ceau shiu ayn ee tammylt elley as lhig da ny boghtyn meeney thooilley.” “Throw it in in another while and let the poor little things flood.”
Myr shen ren ad ceau ayn ee reesht. So they threw it in again.
Kione oor ny jees ren ad prowal reesht as cha dooar ad veg agh teddyn, as myr v’ad goaill ny teddyn er boayrd va moggylyn dy lieen fest rish ny teddyn. After an hour or two they proved again and got nothing but ropes, and as they were taking the ropes on board there were meshes of net clinging to the ropes.
Ayns traaghyn veagh ny moggylyn lane jeh’n fer beg. At times the meshes would be full of the little fellow [herring].
As va’n mainshter jeeaghyn er. And the master was looking on.
V’eh gra roish shen, “Lhig da ny boghtyn meeney thooilley.” He was saying before that, “Let the poor little things flood.”
Agh v’eh gra roo eisht, “Jeeagh shiu er yn boayl ta ny jouill veggey fest nish!” But then he was saying to them, “Look where the little devils are stuck now!”
Ren eh caghlaa e aigney dy siyragh. He quickly changed his mind.
Veagh dooinney Purt ny Hinshey gra ‘cur’ rish ceau magh yn lieen, as veagh dooinney Purt le Moirrey gra ‘cuirr’ [‘quir’] rish. A Peel man would say ‘cur’ for casting the net, while a Port St. Mary man would call it ‘cuirr’ [‘quir’].
Er lhiam dy re ‘cuirr’ yn red s’dooghyssagh dy ghra rish. I think that ‘cuirr’ is the more natural thing to call it.
Veagh ooilley yn flod coayl nyn lieen ayns yn thammag shen, chammah Yernee as Sostnee. All the fleet would lose their nets in that bush, both Irish and English.
Ren shin cuirr lieh jeh’n ghreie un fastyr er coorse yn thammag vooar as ren shin prowal cha leah as va lossan [2] ’syn ushtey as va warpyn aynjee. We cast half the gear one evening on the course of the big bush and we proved as soon as there was a reflection in the water and there were warps in it [the net].
[2] lossan
[MS loddan] - ‘s. f. luminous particles seen in the sea by night, and on fish that are not dry, in the dark’ Cregeen, ‘reflection of
[the herring] in the water’ Broderick (1982b: 130).
Eisht ren shin cuirr ooilley as lhie mysh oor dy hraa. Then we cast all and lay about an hour.
Eisht ren shin prowal reesht as va’n lieen lane scaddan. Then we proved again and the net was full of herring.
Ghow shin toshiaght dy chur er boayrd, agh cha dooar shin veg agh teddyn ayns yn ayrn va cuirt hoshiaght. We began to haul on board, but we got nothing but ropes in the part that was cast first.
Ny-yeih ren shin troggal eeastagh mie. Nevertheless we got a good catch.
Ta mee aarloo dy smooinaght dy re coayl lieen as scaddan ren cur er yn scaddan faagail yn coorse shen, son cha vel monney er ve ayn rish daeed blein. I am ready to think that loss of net and herring is what made the herring leave that course, for there has not been much there for forty years.
As tra ren ny eeasteyryn geddyn lieen dy chotton, v’ad coontey dy voghe ad scaddan dy liooar eisht, agh myr s’liauyr va’n lieen as myr s’lhean v’ad jannoo eh, shen myr sloo dy scaddan v’ad goaill. And when the fishermen acquired cotton nets they considered they would get plenty of herring then, but the longer the net and the broader they were making them, the fewer herring they were taking.
As rish jeih ny daa vlein jeig cha vel eh feeu dy eeastagh scaddan. And for ten or twelve years it has not been worth fishing herring.
Ta’n scaddan er naase goan, as ta’n sleih er naase goan ta gee scaddan lurg da ve goit, as ta ny brick myrgeddin. The herring have become scarce, and the people have become scarce who eat herring after it is caught, and the mackerel as well.
Va brick dy liooar ayn roish ren ad jannoo greieyn liauyr as ta mee er vakin ad creck ad son shey punt y keead as veagh brick ry gheddyn ayns y vaart. There was plenty of mackerel before they made long gear, and I have seen them sell them for £6 a hundred, and there would be mackerel to be got at the mart.
Veagh eeastagh mie ayn Laa Parick, agh cha vel monney dy vrick cheet nish gys ta’n sourey ayn, as ta punt y keead coontit leagh mie. There would be good fishing on St. Patrick’s Day, but not much mackerel come now until the summer, and a pound a hundred is considered a good price.
Ta Crook feer faagit as creen, as cha vel ny blaaghyn puddase agh beg dy vie foast. Crookhaven is very desolate and faded, and the potato flowers are but little good yet.
Ta mee er chlashtyn shenn eeasteyryn ginsh mychione baatey va cuirt keayrt ayns yn Vaie Vooar [3] oie feer aalin magh jeh Bradda, as v’eh kiune as feer dorraghey, as v’ad mysh goll dy phrowal yn lieen, agh dooyrt yn mainshter dy row eh traa dy liooar foast. I have heard old fishermen telling about a boat that was once casting in the Big Bay one very fine night out off Bradda, and it was calm and very dark, and they were about to prove the net, but the master said that there was still plenty of time.
[3] The Big Bay is ‘between Bradda and Niarbyl, on the south west of the island’ Broderick (1982b: 130).
Hie ad ooilley dy lhie agh yn fer va freayll arrey. They all went to bed except the one who was keeping watch.
Hie eh seose gour e hoshee as chur eh my-ner dy row yn lieen ’sy thalloo, as ren eh doostey yn cheshaght dy chur er boayrd. He went up forward and noticed that the net was on the bottom, and he woke the crew to haul aboard.
Haink ny deiney seose as ghow ad toshiaght dy ghoaill stiagh yn swing agh va’n lieen fest ayns yn thalloo. The men came up and began taking in the swing but the net was fast on the bottom.
V’ad streeu lesh ooilley nyn niart agh v’eh feer trome; agh v’ad geddyn trie lurg trie stiagh, as goaill aash nish as reesht, as ec yn jerrey haink yn lieen gys mullagh yn ushtey. They were striving with all their strength but it was very heavy; but the were getting foot after foor in, and taking a rest now and again, and finally the net came to the surface.
As ren eh soilshean er ny sleityn mygeayrt myr dy beagh eh er ve mullagh eayst. And it shone on the mountains around as if it had been full moon.
As cre v’ayns yn lieen agh pearl mooar; as va ny shenn gheiney cha agglit lesh yn sollyssid echey, chur ad yn raad da’n lieen gys yn thalloo reesht, as va’n pearl mooar ersooyl. And what was in the net but a large pearl; and the old men were so startled with its brightness, they let the net go to the bottom again, and the large pearl was gone.
As lesh ooilley yn eeastagh as trawlal rieau er dy henney cha vel dooinney erbee er haghyrt er yn pearl mooar. And with all the fishing and trawling ever since no-one has come across the large pearl.
Dy beagh ad er ghoaill eh er boayrd tra v’eh heose oc v’ad ooilley er ve berchagh dy liooar, agh she jeih gys unnane my nee dooinney erbee geddyn e laueyn er reesht ny geddyn shilley jeh. If they had taken it on board when they had it up, they would all have been rich enough, but is it ten to one if anyone will get his hands on it again or get a sight of it.
Agh ren yn sollyssid echey coyrt nyn dappey voue; agh ta fer ny ghaa gys yn laa t’ayn jiu currit cha ommijagh. But its brightness stunned them; but there are one or two to this present day who are made just as foolish.
Va Charles y Killey [4] cliaghtey cheet gys Purt le Moirrey voish Rhumsaa dy eeastagh hakeyn. Charles y Killey used to come to Port St. Mary from Ramsey to fish for hake.
[4] Charles y Killey - ‘a local wag from the north. There are still today many yarns told about his eccentricity’ Broderick (1982b: 131)
Cha row eh cha keeallagh as dy chooilley unnane. He was not as sensible as everyone.
Ta mish er ve taggloo rish keayrt ny ghaa. I have talked to him a few times.
Ta mee er chlashtyn Juan y Corrin ginsh mychione un oie v’eh mooie maroo as va’n oie feer aalin; v’adsyn cuirt ayns y Vaie Vooar magh jeh Purt Yiarn. I have heard Juan y Corrin telling about one night he was out with them and the night was very fine; they had cast in the Big Bay off Port Erin.
V’ad eeastagh hakeyn son tammylt dy hraa, agh ghow ad ayns laue dy phrowal yn lieen, as tra haink yn lieen gys mullagh yn ushtey va eeast mooar ayn. They were fishing hake for a while, but they decided to prove the net, and when the net came to the surface, there was a big fish in it.
Ta ny eeasteyryn gyllagh eh guilley purn. [5] The fishermen call it a guilley purn.
[5] guilley purn - ‘the flat angler fish Lophius piscatorius’ Broderick (1982b: 131).
Ta’n kione echey tree keayrtyn wheesh as yn corp as ta beeal feer vooar er; yinnagh yn beeal echey cummal lane poagey as ta skianyn feer lhean er. Its head is three times the size of its body and it has a very large mouth; its mouth would hold a bagful and it has very broad fins.
Ren Charles briaght jeu, “Cre yn vrout va ayns yn lieen?” Charles asked them, “What’s the brute that was in the net?”
As dooyrt fer jeu dy re yn shenn yuilley v’ayn. And one of them said that it was the old boy.
“Jean shiu shassoo dunnal, my yuillyn,” dooyrt Charles, “as marr shiu eh son nagh bee eh mollaght sheelnaue ny smoo.” “Stand firm, my boys,” said Charles, “and kill him so that he’ll not be the curse of mankind any more.”
V’eh gra rish ny deiney shassoo dunnal, agh v’eh hene jannoo lesh yn cabbane cha tappee as oddagh eh. He was telling the men to stand firm, but he himself was making for the cabin as fast as he could.
Va Corrin briaght jeh Charles bleeantyn ny lurg shen row cooinaght echey er yn traa v’ad marroo yn shenn yuilley. Corrin was asking Charles years later if he remembered the time they were killing the old boy.
Va, dooyrt Charles, “agh cha vel eh marroo foast,” dooyrt eh. Yes, said Charles, “but he isn’t dead yet,” he said.
Ta’n earish feer sterrymagh ayns shoh, geay as fliaghey, as cha vel monney reamys ayn dy screeu ny traa dy smooinaght, agh jerkal dy bee laghyn aalin cheet ayns traa gerrid. The weather is very stormy here, wind and rain, and there is not much room to write or time to think, but hoping that fine days will come in a short time.