I clung to the grain bags and prayed: Great of Heaven, Three-One, Evermighty, who delights in saving men, hear my prayer and save us now. From torment of sea, from dolour of waves, from gales great and terrible, from squall and storm deliver us! Sain us and shield us and sanctify us; be thou, King of the Elements, seated at our helm and guiding us in peace to safety. Amen, Lord, so be it.
Night drew on quickly and the gale, rather than abating, increased; as if drawing power from darkness, the wind mounted higher. The ropes, taut against the storm, sang mournfully as the mast creaked. Our tight little ship was tossed from trough to peak and back again, and my stomach heaved with every rise and fall. The grain sacks provided some stability and all who were not needed to keep the ship afloat gathered there to huddle together.
The last light failed and Fintan announced: "We cannot make landfall in the dark. Even if we could see the estuary, it would be too dangerous in this storm."
"What are we to do?" asked Brocmal, fear making his voice tremble.
"We will sail on," the pilot replied. "Fret not, brother. The ship is stout. We can easily ride out this storm."
So saying, he returned to his tiller, and we to our close-mumbled prayers.
Through the long darkness we prayed and comforted one another as best we could. The night wore on and on, endless, gradually passing to day once more with little alteration in the light. Day or night, the darkness remained heavy as the waves towered over us on every side.
All that dreadful day we looked for some evidence of land. But night came upon us once more, before we found even the smallest suggestion of a coastline or shore. We huddled in the bottom of the boat, clinging each to the other and all to the grain sacks. Bishop Cadoc, cold to the bone, shivering and shuddering, offered a continual litany of psalms and prayers of deliverance. The men of Eire are a seagoing tribe and we have many invocations of an oceanic nature. The good bishop knew them all and spoke them twice, and then said as many more that I had never heard before.
From time to time, one of the muir manachi would take a turn at the tiller, but our helmsman shouldered the greatest share of the burden alone-a very rock in the teeth of the storm; the Stone of Culnahara is not more steadfast than Fintan the pilot. My respect for that man grew with every wave that crashed over the rails.
All through the tempest-tortured night we shivered and prayed, the scream of wind and thunder of water loud in our ears. Hard pressed though we were, we kept courage keen with faith in God and hope of deliverance.
Even when the rudder pin gave way, we did not despair. Mael and Fintan hauled the broken rudder aboard and lashed it securely to the side of the boat. "We are at the mercy of the wind now," Mael informed us.
"Let Him who fixed the pole star guide us," Cadoc replied. "Lord, we are in your hand. Send us where you will."
With or without the rudder, I observed little difference in the behaviour of the boat. We were yet thrown from one wave to the next and blasted by every gale. Sea and sky continually changed places. Seawater broke over us in freezing cascades; had we taken up residence beneath a waterfall, we could not have been more severely drenched.
Three days and nights we endured this tribulation. We could neither eat nor sleep; any such comfort was impossible. When, after three days, there came no hint or evidence of the storm ending, Bishop Cadoc raised his cambutta and stood. Then, with those nearest him clutching him about the legs and waist to keep him from being snatched overboard by the wind and waves, the Bishop of Hy called out a seun to calm the storm. The charm he spoke was this:
May the Three encircle me, May the
Three succour me, May the Three shield me,
Be thou ever saving me!
Aid thee me in my dire need, Aid thee me
in my distress, Aid thee me in every
danger, Be thou ever aiding me!
Nor water shall drown me, Nor flood
shall drown me, Nor brine shall drown me,
Be thou ever upholding me!
Away with storms! Away with gales! Away with
cruel killing waves!
In the name of the Father of Life,
and the Son Triumphant,
and the Spirit Most Holy, with peace everlasting,
Amen, Amen, Amen!
Cadoc repeated this charm three times and then sat down. We waited.
Clutching to the grain bags and to one another, the storm's savage howl loud in our ears, we waited. The ship turned around and around, rudderless, flung this way and that on the high-lifting sea swell.
Then, by some happenchance, Ciaran raised his head, looked around and sang out: "The sun!" Up he leapt. "Sol Invictus! The sun has conquered! Gloria Patri!"
Suddenly everyone was struggling up, pointing to the sky and shouting, "Glory be to God!" and praising the Ever Wise and all his saints and angels for our deliverance.
