A guest post by Mike Hackett
Reared as a townie in Youghal – little did I think that the majority of my life would be spent in the lovely Deise. Now having spent fifty-one years living in Shanacoole – I hope to live long enough to see Waterford win another hurling All-Ireland.
My father – Mick Hackett – was the night telephonist in Youghal for thirty years (1939 to 69) and did all his sleeping by day. Secretly he had a mattress hidden under the stairs at work and would get a nap for many hours during the night. Telephones were few in the 1940s and 50s – and only maternity calls and an odd fire-brigade call would use the telephone system overnight.
Coming off work at 8 am – my Dad would be fresh enough if he had had a quiet night and he devised a way to make a few extra bob during the day – especially on Fridays when it was ‘fish only’ day. Paul Watson – of Watson’s Glass studio – had a motor launch and would go fishing out in the bay early on Friday mornings during the plentiful mackarel season.
My Father had an old Baby Ford car – that he had bought from Paddy O’Connor at the quayside (where the Credit Union is now) for fifty pounds. The floor in the driver’s side was rusted away – but his pal Billy O’Connell in the Clashmore garage was able to weld a sheet of tin where the holes were. On Friday mornings – Mick would go to Buttimer’s Quay and purchase a cran (box) of mackarel from Paul Watson (about two hundred fish) for three pounds. Then when on holidays from school – I would go with him to Clashmore creamery to sell the fish. The creamery at the top of Clashmore village was a very busy place during those mornings as the farmers queued up patiently to await their turn. You had rows of vehicles of all kinds – carts and trailers – carrying churns full of fresh milk.
Sales of the mackarel would be brisk (at six pence each) – most folk observed the ‘fast-day no meat’ rule of the church. Purchases would be in dozens or half dozens – usually half dozens. You can imagine that just around thirty sales sold all the fish. Again it’s easy to figure out that two hundred fish went from the quayside price of three pounds to five pounds – a profit of two pounds. It was a lot in 1952. Take away the cost of a gallon of petrol plus a pint of porter and a bottle of orange – and you still had a fair profit from this ‘side-line’ job. Must mention Mrs. Johnny Rourke (O’Rourke – but always called just Rourke in those days) for her friendship and hospitality in her pub – she was a lovely woman. The pint was my father’s reward to himself for his efforts – and the bottle of orange was for his small helper (me).
If any fish were left in the fish box – then we would go by Ballycurrane where Johnny Coughlan loved fish and would buy a dozen for himself if we had them left. Another good stop on the way home was (as my father called her) Nancy Hynes at Tinnock. Nancy was of course Nancy Ledingham at that stage – with a big family and she would buy another dozen if we had them left in the box. Time now to go home and give the old car a rest before it burns too much engine oil.
Faces that come into my mind from those days are Billy O’Connell – Michael, Martin and Sergeant Baker – Jim Hunt – Johnny Rourke – and Bill Lennon must have been around too at that time.
Mike Hackett – September 2024