Great tale, Leej. Now here's one of my mother's that I promised to send Den (who lives in the town where my mother was born).

This is my mother's voice:

"I'm sure they [the Orrs] depended, as Irish families living on the shore do to this day on fish--herring, mackerel, an occasional salmon--they caught from their little sailboats.

"Let me share with you my Dad's story of the miraculous preservation of one of his distant ancestors:

"It was a beautiful early morning. The sun was already sending a glow over the countryside, and soon it would rise out of the Irish sea. It gave every promise of being a 'grand day for the fishin'." The little fishing fleet put out to sea in high glee: getting away form the hard labors on shore, the men considered a day of fishing a great treat. Perhaps some of the more thoughtful looked across the water to the Scottish homeland and remembered the stories of the brave ancestors who had come across to establish the new Protestand faith in the Ulster provinces of Catholic Ireland, granted them by Williamn of Orange after his victory at the Boyne. [I'd like at this point to make it clear that my own sympathies lie with the republican cause. --seed]

"But mainly the men shouted jokes and tales of mystery from boat to boat, both laughing and crying: Irish tears flow easily. They say Ulster men are dour, unlike the jolly, fun-loving Southern Irish. But that's not true, at least while they're young.

"But the day, begun so exhuberantly, was to take a strange turn. One of the boys in the boat with my great, great, great, great (I don't rightly know how many greats) grandfather said suddenly, "Did ye hear that?"

"'I heard nothing. Ye're dreamin', Sammy,' said John Robert, my ancestor.

"But in a short, wee while Sammy said again, 'Did ye no' hear that fish?' This time two of the men claimed that a fish had come to the side of the boat, raised its head out of the water and said, 'Gang awa' hame.' (Don't think that it's strange that a fish in the sea between Ireland and Scotland would speak with a broad brogue).

"My great and so on grandfather, being of a logical turn of mind, responded, 'Aah, Sammy, you two have been at the bottle again. Leave a wee bit for the rest of us.'

"But when the fish returned a third time with its awful message, 'Gang awa' hame,' they all agreed that it might be a miracle from the Lord, warning them of danger; they called to the other boats and told them the strange tale, saying, 'We'd better all head for home, don't ye think?'

"The laughter from the other boats split the air. 'What are your wives going to think,' Tommy Atkinson called, "when you come home with less than half a catch and tell them it's all because of a talking fish?' and a voice from one of the other boats called, 'Your first time out since the wedding, your bride'll think ye're daft, John Robert.'

"They tried a bit more fishing but the heart had gone out of it, and finally all the crew agreed to start for the shore. They called to the others, 'Ye'd better come along,' but were greeted by gales of laughter. The day was fair and the sun shining on them seemed to emphasize their gullible behavior when one of them said, 'Look over to the west--isn't that a bit of a cloud?' And so it was (if any of you ever get to spend a bit of time in Annalong or Ballymartin, you'll understand the storm on the Irish sea).

"At first the wind took a brisker turn, and soon the sky turned from blue to gray, then black; the rain, starting as a sprinkle, came faster until it was coming down in sheets and it was more than they could do to manage the sails. It looked like the warning had come too late, or they had heeded it too slowly, but, although tossed agboutr wildly, the skill of the sailor-born to the sea, the luck of the Irish, or maybe the will of the Lord, guided them through the narrow passage to the Kilkeel harbor. It was indeed a miracle.

"And what of the other boats? They are all at the bottom of that sea, and all the mournful weeping on that shore, for they were all residents of the same little village, was terrible. And, my father swore, if it hadn't been for that blessed fish, with its order to 'Gang awa' hame,' none of us Orrs would ever have been heard of."

--seed