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ASHOON NY RHEYNN-CHEEREY?
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A NATION OR A COUNTY?
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TRA vees yn colloo shoh ry-akin ’sy “Rollage” bee’n reihys ec kione as bee naight mychione ocsyn hooar yn varriaght ayns y phabyr naight hene.
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When this column will be visible in the “Star” the election will have ended and there will be news about those who won in the newspaper itself.
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B’egin dou screeu yn art shoh er y chiaghtin, dy gheddyn eh aarloo da ny cloudeyryn as foast cha nel fys ayms quoi hooar yn varriaght as quoi hie fo!
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I had to write this article in the week, to get it ready for the printer and I still don’t know who won and who went under! (was defeated!)
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Ansherbee, ta treisht orrym dy dooar ny hashoonagheyryn stiagh ’sy Chiare As Feed as foddee er yn oyr shen vees cooney ry-gheddyn da chengey ny mayrey voish yn reiltys hene, yn cooney shen lhisagh ee er n’gheddyn car ny bleeantyn t’er n’gholl shaghey.
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Anyway, I hope that the nationalists got into the Keys and maybe because of that there will be help available for the mother tongue from the government itself, that help she should have received during bygone years.
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Tra ta mee smooinaghtyn mychione cooish ny Gaelgey ayns Mannin ta mee goaill nearey jeh’n ennym “Manninagh”.
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When I think about the subject of Manx in Mann I am ashamed of the name “Manx”.
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JOHNNY HALL, "REE VALENCIA"
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JOHNNY HALL, “THE KING OF VALENCIA”
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Manninagh Dooie as Dooinney Niartal.
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A True Manxman and Mighty Man.
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Er y chiaghtin hooar mee yn skeeal shoh heese voish nyn garrey ‘Chalse Mooar Juan Robin’ voish Balley Ny Loghey.
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In the week I got this story below from our friend ‘Chalse Mooar Juan Robin’ from Ballaugh.
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Er hoh diu, ayns focklyn Chaise Mooar hene, skeeal elley mychione shenn Vanninagh, ard-ghooagh ’sy ling echey hene.
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Here for you, in Big Chalse’s own words, is another story about an Old Manxman, famous in his own lifetime.
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Va Johnny ruggit mysh y vlein 1858 as v’eh ny eeasteyr voish e aegid derrey v’eh bunnys kiare feed blein d’eash.
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Johnny was born in around the year 1858 and he was a fisherman from his youth until he was almost eighty years of age.
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Va enney er ec keeadyn dy leih boayl erbee va ny eeasteyryn Manninagh goll as v’eh grait my-e-chione nagh vaik er rieau danjeyr as nagh bione da aggle.
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Hundreds of people knew him anywhere the Manx fishermen were going and he it was said about him that he never saw danger and he didn’t know fear.
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V’eh mysh jeih blein as feed d’eash tra ghow eh er baatey noa troggit er e hon hene, ta mee credjal ayns Purt Ny h-Inshey.
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e was about thirty years of age when he took on a new boat built for himself, I believe in Peel.
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V’ee enmyssit “Bonny Jane” as haink yn ennym shen, gollrish ennym e Captan, dy ve ardghooagh boayl erbee va eeasteyryn goll.
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It was called “Bonny Hane” and that name became, like the name of its Captain, famous anywhere fishermen were going.
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Hie Johnny geeastagh aynjee rish jeih bleeaney as daeed, tra, fo choyrlaghey y lught thie echey hene, scuirr eh dy eiyrt er yn eeastagh.
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Johnny went fishing in it for thirty years, when advised by his family, he stopped following the fishing.
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Va Johnny ny ghooinney feer chrauee as dy kinjagh v’eh goaill padjer tra v’eh goll mygeayrt Kione Roauyr as b’egin da’n clane skimmee goaill ayrn marish.
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Johnny was a very religious man and he was always praying when he was going around Kione Roauyr and the entire crew would have to join in with him.
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V’eh ny ard ghooinney ayns y chabbal ec Gordon ayns Skyll Pherick as v’eh jeeaghyn harrish yn Scoill Ghoonee ayns shen.
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He was a high-up man the Chapel at Gordon in Patrick Parish and he was overseeing the Sunday School there.
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V’eh goaill aggie roish Jee ny lomarcan as cha nee roish dooinney erbee ny Jouyll erbee ayns y theihll shoh na’n seihll ta ry heet.
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He was afraid of God alone and not any man or any devil in this world (life) or the world (life) to come.
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Ram keayrtyn tra va’n earish rastagh, veagh ny baatyn elley roie son y phurt as fastee as veagh Johnny foast er yn aarkey freaynagh, ny lhie rish e lhieenteenyn, gyn smooinaght erbee jeh gaue.
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Many times when the weather was rough, the other boats would run for the harbour and shelter and Johnny would still be on the raging ocean, lying by her nets, without any thought of danger.
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T’ad gra dy jagh y baatey-sauaill magh ny smoo na un cheayrt dy ronsaghey er e hon, as, cha lheah as va’n baatey faggys dy liooar son Johnny dy ve er ny chlashtyn, dyllee eh dys captan y vaatey-sauaill,
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They say that the lifeboat went out more than once to search for him, and, as soon as the boat was near enough for Johnny to be heard, he shouted to the captain of the lifeboat,
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“C’red ta shiu jannoo mooie ayns shoh? Gow-jee reue dy jeeragh dys y phurt.
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“What are you doing out in this? Go straight to the harbour.
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Cha nel eh cooie er nyn son eu ayns shoh. Bee shiu ooilley caillt as baiht!”
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It isn’t suitable for you in this. You’ll all be lost and drowned!”
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As hie ad rhymboo agh duirree Johnny derrey va’n earish cooie dy hroggal e lhieenteenyn, cosney yn skeddan ayndoo, as goll roish dy valley.
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And they went but Johnny stayed until the weather was suitable to raise his nets, getting the herring in them, and going home.
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Ayns y vlein 1939 hie mee hene as my chaarjyn Mark Braide, Leslie Quirk as Illiam Radcliffe dys Nerin, markiaght er “cabbil-yiarn”.
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In the year 1939 I myself and my friends Mark Braide, Leslie Quirk, and Bill Radcliffe went to Ireland, riding on “iron horses” (bicycles).
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Va’n thurrys voish Doolish dys Divlyn jeant er shenn vaatey-vree enmyssit yn "Assaroe" va roie eddyr Divlyn, Doolish as Silloth, cur lhee ollagh as kuse veg dy leih.
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The excursion from Douglas to Dublin was done on an old steamboat called the “Assaroe” that was running between Dublin, Douglas and Silloth, bringing cattle and a small amount of people.
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Cha row ee feer happee son v’ee goaill hoght ooryn son y jurnaa eddyr Doolish as Divlyn.
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It wasn’t very fast because she was taking eight hours for the journey between Douglas and Dublin.
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Aghterbee, fy-yerrey ren shin roshtyn Divlyn as hie shin roin er nyn “gabbil-yiarn” as er y chied laa chossyn shin dys Glion Daa Logh.
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Anyway, we finally arrived at Dublin, and we went on our “iron-horses” and on the first day we made it to Glendalough.
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Lurg shen hie shin trooid Waterford dys Cork as eisht dys Kinsale raad cheayll shin mychione ny Vanninee tra v’ad goll dys shen, as diu shin pynt ayns thie-oast enmysit “Yn Towl ’Sy Voalley”, boayl taaghit dy mooar lioroo.
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After that we went through Waterford to Cork and then to Kinsale where we heard about the Manx when they were going there, and we drank a pint in a pub called “The Hole in The Wall”, a place greatly frequented by them.
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S’cooin lhiam dy row yn far-voalley ro injil son mish dy hassoo seose dy jeeragh.
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I remember that the ceiling was too low for me to stand up straight.
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Lurg shen hie shin trooid Keeill Airney as buill elley, derrey, fy-yerrey, haink shin dys Dunquin, “Yn skeerey s’niessey dys America raad nagh row veg agh Gailck Yernagh goll er loayrt.
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After that we went through Kilarney and other places, until, finally, we came to Dunquin, “The closest parish to America” where nothing but Irish Gaelic was being spoken.
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Va shin fuirraghtyn marish fer enmyssit “Kruger” Kavanagh.
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We were staying with a fellow called “Kruger” Kavanagh.
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Va Baarle echeysyn er y fa dy row eh er ve ayns America.
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He knew English because he had been in America.
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Haink shin ny whail yn braar echey Seamus.
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We met his brother Seamus.
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Va Seamus loayrt dy chooilley hengey Ghailckagh ny Celtiagh er lhimmey son y Ghailck Vanninagh as shen y fa dy daink eh dys Mannin.
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Seamus was speaking every Gaelic or Celtic language except Manx Gaelic and therefore he came to Mann.
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Duirree eh ayns shoh mysh mee, as hug shin lhien eh mygeayrt er yn chenn sleih, loayreyderyn dooghyssagh, as hie eh ersooyl loayrt y Ghailck ainyn!
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He stayed here about a month, and we took him around ‘on the the old folk’, native speakers, and he went away speaking our Manx!
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Un laa hug lesh Kruger shin dys balley beg enmyssit Ballyferriter, mychione va shin dy mennick er chlashtyn voish shenn Homaase Callister va er ve ayns shen ec yn eeastagh.
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One day Kruger brought us to a small town called Bally-ferriter, about which we were often hearing from old Thomas Callister, who had been there at the fishing.
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Honnick shin shenn ghooinney kiartaghey ny lhieenteenyn echey as va Kruger as y chenn ghooinney loayrt nyn mast’oc hene ayns Gailck Yernagh, as hyndaa Kruger as dooyrt eh rooin (ayns Baarle), “S’cooin lesh y chenn ghooinney dy mie ny Manninee cheet dys Ballyferriter as dy row ad deiney feer choar.”
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We saw an old man mending his nets and Kruger and the old man were speaking amongst themselves in irish Gaelic, and Kruger turned, and he said to us (in English), “The old man remembers the Manx coming to Ballyferriter well and that they were very agreeable men.”
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Dooyrt shin, “Jean briaght vel cooinaghtyn echey er ny enmyn jeh fir erbee jeu.”
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We said, “Ask if he remembers the names of any of them.”
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Vrie Kruger shen as chelleeragh dooyrt yn chenn ghooinney “Johnny Hall”.
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Kruger asked that and straight away the old man said “Johnny Hall”.
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Dooyrt mee heose dy row Johnny far-enmyssit “Ree Valencia”.
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I said above that Johnny was nicknamed “The King of Valencia”.
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Ta Valencia ellan ’sy Sheer-ass Nerin.
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Valencia is an island in the South-West of Ireland.
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Ny smoo na feed blein lurg Ballyferriter va me ayns Cahirsiveen ta faggys rish Ellan Valencia, marish my ven as daa fer-mooinjer va baghey ayns Nerin.
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More than twenty years after Ballyferriter I was in Cahirsiveen, that is near to the Isle of Valencia, with my wife and two relatives who were living in Ireland.
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Va mee er n’insh daue mychione y chenn eeasteyr ayns Ballyferriter bione da Johnny as minnid ny ghaa ny s’anmey haink dooinney coamrit gollrish eeasteyr stiagh ayns y thie oast raad va shin.
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I had told them about the old fisherman in Ballyferriter who knew Johnn and a minute or two later a man dressed like a fisherman came into the pub where we were.
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Ghow mee toshiaght dy haggloo rish. By gooin leshyn ny Manninee cheet as dooyrt mee “Va nane jeu far-enmssit ‘Ree Valencia’, row enney ayd er y fer shen?”
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I started to talk to him. He remembered the Manx coming and I said, “There was one nicknamed ‘The King of Valencia’, did you know that one?”
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Chelleeragh dooyrt eh, “Johnny Hall, as va’n baatey echey enmyssit ‘Bonny Jane’ as va enmyn yn skimmee echey A as B as C...
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Straight away he said, “Johnny Hall, and his boat was called ‘Bonny Jane’ and the name of his crew was A and B and C ...
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Aw! Va Johnny ny ghooinney yindysagh as cha jeeragh as side,” as hie eh er dy voylley eh erskyn ooilley.
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Oh! Johnny was a wonderful man and as straight as an arrow,” and he went on praising his above all.
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Dy jarroo va’n ennym echey cummit ayns scansh as arrym dy-lhean.
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Indeed, his name was widely held in regard and respect.
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Dy mennick tra v’eh cheet dy valley voish Nerin ny Nalbin, verragh eh lesh cabbyl, ny assylyn, ny kirree, ny guioee, as ny keayrtyn, ta mee er chlashtyn, eer laad dy voain da’n aile.
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Often when he was coming home from Ireland or Scotland, he would bring a horse, or donkeys, or sheep, or geese, and sometimes, I have heard, even a load of peat for the fire.
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Ayns y vlein 1937, daa vlein ro anmagh ta mee goaill rish, va chaglym cummit ayns Purt ny h-Inshey dy yannoo ard-eailley jeh keead-blein fockleyr Archibald Cregeen.
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In the year 1937, two years too late I admit, there was meeting held in Peel to make a celebration of the centenary of Archibald Cregeen’s dictionary.
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Va earroo mooar dy loayreyderyn Gailckagh ayns shen as va’n ayrn smoo jeh ny immeeaghtyn ayns chengey ny mayrey.
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There was a great number of Manx speakers there and the majority of the proceedings were in the mother tongue.
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Ny mast’ocsyn v’ayns shen va Johnny Hall.
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Amongst those who were there was Johnny Hall.
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Ga dy row eh ayns e chiarroo-feed vlein d’eash, v’eh er hooyl voish Gordon dys Purt ny h-Inshey as er ash ’sy voghrey jeh’n laa shen as reesht dys Purt Ny h-Inshey son yn ardeailley ’syn astyr.
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Although he was I his eightieth year of age, he had walked from Gordon to Peel and back in the morning of that day and again to Peel for the celebration in the afternoon.
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Lurg va shin ooilley er n’ee, va sleih loayrt, goaill arraneyn, ginsh skeeallyn as myr shen, as, ayns e cheayrt, hass Johnny seose as hug eh dooin “Arrane Ny Eeasteyryn”
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After we had all eaten, people were eating, singing, telling stories and so on, and, in his turn, Johnny stood up and he gave us “The Song of the Fishermen”—
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— “O Vannin Veen, ayns mean y cheayn,
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— “O Dear Mannin, in the middle of the sea,
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Aynjee ta ram eeasteyryn,
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In it there are many fish,
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Tra ta'n arroo cuirt as ny praaseyn soit,
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When the corn is sown and the potatoes planted,
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Goll magh dy yeeaghyn son skeddan.”
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Going out to look for herring.”
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Va’n carr feer henn echey, va foaynoo mie er e choraa, as hie eh sheese dys sheean ram bass-voylley.
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This tune was very old, his voice had a good quality, and it went down to the sound of a lot of applause.
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Tammylt ny s’anmey huitt eh tessyn y voard as v’eh baghtal dy row eh feer ching.
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A while later he fell across the table, and it was obvious that he was very sick.
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V’eh currit lesh dys y Thie Lheeys ayns Doolish agh ayns daa laa hooar eh baase, da’n seaghyn vooar jeh ooilley e chaarjyn ny neesht cheusthie as cheumooie nyn Ellan.
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He was brought to the Hospital in Douglas but in two days he died, to the great sorrow of all his friends both within and without the Island.
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V’eh ny ghooinney yindyssagh, as s’bastagh eh, cha bee yn lhied echey dy bragh ry-akin reesht.
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He was a wonderful man, and it’s such a pity, his like won’t be ever seen again.
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Dy gooidsave lesh yn Jee echey ren eh shirveish cha mie ayns y theihll shoh wass, freill yn annym echey ayns shee son dy bragh.
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May the God he served so well in this earthly world preserve his soul in peace forever.
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(Chalse Mooar y Craayne, Mee Houney, 1976).
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(Big Chalse Craine, November 1976).
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Shenn Phurt Ny h-Inshey ayns ny laghyn roish my row eer Johnny Hall er ny ruggyr, tra nagh beagh agh beggan beg dy Vaarle ry-chlashtyn ’sy chenn ard-valley as ish ec “Lught yn Argid” nyn lomarcan.
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Old Peel in the days before even Johnny Hall was born, when there would only be a very little bit of English to be heard in the town, and that only of the “Monied Class”.
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