“I am not leaving Ireland until we
see puffins”, declares my mother before we even hit the shores of
the Emerald Isle.
The internet has given this mother of
mine way too much power if it is to be believed that knowledge is
power. She has learned (or more to the point, I think she just
always knew this) that puffins can be found on islands off the coast
of Ireland this time of year. This time of year being May. Never
mind that the Atlantic Ocean is rather chilly...and the winds can be
brisk. A boat must be found that can navigate us to Skellig Michael
where the illusive puffins can be found in one of their natural
habitats.
A boat and its captain are hired but
the details seem a bit vague. “Just head into Port Magee and look
for a blue boat”. That's it. So we do just that at 10a.m. on a
very clear weather for Ireland kind of day. Driving into town with
our no-bigger-than-a-bread-box rental car with stick shift on
opposite side of where I am used to finding it, we arrive in Port
Magee.
“Which boat do you think it is? And
which dock are we meant to walk to and...”? The next thing we know
a man comes up to our car and asks if we are heading to Skellig
Michael. We respond yes and he tells us where to park our car. Who
knew the captain would find us. It's just the way things are done in
Port Magee. If one is not a local, one must want to go see puffins?
I do not know but I am grateful he found us.
Making our way to the boat, the first
adventure is getting Mom onto the boat. This is not a cruise ship
wherein there is an easy gangplank to walk. The seemingly one foot
gap between the pier and the boat should not be a cause for concern
as Mom makes her way into the boat, right? Say a prayer, everyone.
The fact that shortly thereafter we are asked to sign a liability
waver makes me wonder what exactly we have signed up for here...I
mean, where does the danger lay in seeing puffins? There are 7 other
dangerous puffin viewers on the boat so we all introduce ourselves
and off we go.
“Why don't you have a go at steering
the boat?,” the Captain tells me. I do not want to, having no
boating skill set but it is an enclosed cabin and the wind is picking
up outside so it is a welcome relief from the briskness of the deck
where we are seated...plus I glance at that wonderful invention
called “autopilot” and think, “Why not?” Directly in front
of us is Skellig Michael - a world heritage UNESCO site which
evidently has a monastery at its apex...more about that later. No,
maybe I should just confess now. I have to admit that sometimes when
my Mom makes these excursion suggestions, I just go along with the
idea. I do no research of my own. I read no guide books. So when I
heard that there was a monastery on the island, I thought, “That's
excellent. Can't wait to see the monks doing their monk thing in such
pristine and unspoilt settings”. Remember that thought for a
little later, please.
About an hour has passed since leaving Port Magee, and we arrive at Skellig Michael. Our little boat seems even smaller against the cliffs on the island. We dock and once again, the challenge is getting off the boat. I would like to say right here, right now a big thank you to the chivalrous gentlemen who helped Mom on and off the boat. It is not that she is incapable of doing it herself but again, the absence of traditional docks and even platforms and gaps between the boat and the dock that suggest one may get to know the sea sooner than dry land....just thank you.
As we make our way up the pathway that
hugs the cliffs of the island, I lean over one of the stone walls to
take in the churning sea below..
“Look, there's a seal”, and indeed,
there he is sunning himself on a rock. I know it is not a puffin but
I think to myself, “This could be a good start”. We have not
been here even 5 minutes and already a wildlife sighting.
“Yeah, the seal is nice. But it is
not a puffin”, Mom reminds me. I think to myself, “No
substitutes are going to be accepted and how will I handle this if
she sees no puffins”.
Making our way around the next turn in
the path, (we have 2 hours to explore Skellig Michael before we must
make our way back to the boat) we come across a cliff side that has
all kinds of birds in every nook and cranny of the cliffs...hundreds
of birds...and we even happened to have a world-renown, bird expert
on the boat with us who said, “Oh over there is a __________fill in
the blank with a bird name....and over there is a ______________fill
in the blank with another bird name” But I did not hear him say,
“There is a puffin”. Am I starting to have my concerns? Between
you and I? I remain cautious optimistic.
Can this actually be a good idea as we
reach a point where there is no way to go but up? And that “up”
is a series of 600 plus uneven, winding stone steps with no guard
rails (because everything must remain as it was back in the 7th
century :)...that “up” has already come with signing a liability
waiver and that “up” now comes with sign postings reminding us
of all the dangers before us plus 2 people died last year courtesy of
traversing these very steps?! We stop, we consider...we proceed..
It's beautiful. It is surprisingly
green as I thought all would be rocky and craggy. The sea meeting
the sky is glorious in its simplicity. About 250 steps up, Mom says,
“You go on ahead. I will just wait here.” There is no doubt she
could have made it all the way to the top but the clock was ticking
and we simply needed more time for her to take on Skellig Michael at
her own pace.
“I am just going to go a little
further and if I see any puffins, I'll take photos for you...and I
will take pictures of the monastery if I make it that far...so it
will be just as if you were there”, I say as I contemplate how much
further I want to walk in my Keds sneakers and my Coach-sequined
backpack...isn't that what everyone wears when hiking?
“It doesn't count if I do not see the
puffins myself so your photos won't count so you better not see any
puffins without me”, she says as I start to make my way up the
seemingly never-ending stone stairs.
I laugh and think, “God help me”.
I am breathing a little heavier than
usual as I pass some of the others that came on the boat with us.
“How is it up there?” I ask them as they are passing me on the
way back down. “I think I'm done,” I tell them as I consider
heading back from whence I came . “You are actually closer to the
top than you realize. It's just a little further”, they tell me.
“Where's your Mom?”, they ask and I tell them she is relaxing
around step 250. “Smart woman”, they tell me as they share that
they did not see any puffins. I do not want to know this....
The stone stairway torture ends and
before me is the monastery. The ruins of what was formerly known as
a monastery. The only monks to be found would be in the rudimentary
cemetery. Note to self: start reading guide books. I am about 14
centuries too late to see an active, thriving monastery. Wait, I
see birds. This could be it. They look amazing..amazingly similar
to...seagulls. I have traveled 3,000 miles and up 600 steps to see
birds that I see along the Belt Parkway in NYC everyday?!
“Excuse me, could you take a photo of
me so I can prove to my Mom that I actually climbed to this point?”,
I ask a gentleman who is the only other life form present...other
than the seagull, of course.
“Have you seen any puffins?”, I
ask.
“Not a one”,
Hanging my head low now....I am doomed.
Only about 45 minutes left to make our
way back to the boat so I say goodbye to the seagull and prepare
myself for not only the walk back down the cliffs but to my “I am
not leaving until I see puffins” Mom.
I would like to detach my legs from my
body right about now as the backs of my calves are burning.....I just
have to rest for a moment. I catch something moving out of the
corner of my eyes, darting in and out amongst the cracks of the
hillside. This bird is black and white feathered....and his beak is
a colorful blend of orange and yellow and blue and …..it is a
puffin !!!! He plays hide and seek amongst the landscape. I can not
get a picture of the puffin as he moves quite fast but I saw a
puffin!! This may have to remain my little secret. I shout down to
my Mom who looks about 9 inches high from where I am standing.
“Mommmmmmm. Hello!!”, I wave. She
waves back.
It is time to confess. I see another
puffin. This puffin poses for me, cocks his head to one side as if
to say, “I am pretty cute, aren't I?” He lets me take about 12
photos of him before deciding he must move on to his next photo
shoot.
As I am back at the point where Mom and
I meet up again, she asks me how it was at the top of Skellig
Michael.
“Pretty much the same as here except
higher”, I say. “Did you know that the monastery is actually the
ruins of a monastery?”
“Of course, what did you expect?
Monks roaming around? It's ruins”.
I am not saying another word. Silence
and then I hear four of the best words possible....
“I saw five puffins”, Mom says
excitedly. “They moved pretty fast and I got some photos but they
did not come out so good but I saw puffins”.
I tell her about my puffin sightings
and promise to show her the photos once we are back in Port Magee.
We leisurely walk back to the boat...happy in the knowledge that we
came, we saw and we love puffins.
Thank you God !!! I think to myself.
Thank you. Collectively we saw about 10 puffins some up-close, some
a bit in the distance but for sure, most definitely, they were
adorable puffins. Every moment of the adventure was wonderful. Mission accomplished and now....
We can go home again :)
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