Preliminary to Tragedy 106 years on

Harbour Mouth

8pm April 10th2018

As this is being written, it is 106 years to the day and time that RMS Titanic weighed its anchor off the port of Cherbourg France. Eight hours earlier the ship had slipped and proceeded from the docks at Southampton England to undertake her maiden voyage. A journey of six hours across and along the English Channel had seen the ship drop anchor for the first time on a commercial voyage. Those six hours would have provided the opportunity for a collective sigh of relief for those travellers who had spent the morning getting themselves and their baggage from hotels, railways stations and homes and go through the hustle and bustle of processing of tickets portside, finding their allocated cabins and unpacking their suitcases. There would have been time for a little exploration, a little familiarization of the new environment of a maritime leviathan. Some ate or drank. Fr Frances Brown took photographs. Ships officers on the bridge plotted courses on navigation charts for the ensuing trans-Atlantic journey. Radio operators listened through the white noise of the wireless and transmitted messages to far flung shores for paying clients. The two hours spent just off Cherbourg was necessary to drop and collect passengers and mail coming to and from continental Europe.

Many of those coming on board were filled with the expectation of a life -changing opportunity for a new life in America. Emigrants made up a large proportion of the passenger list. Others longed for the comfort of home having spent many weeks at work or at leisure in the exotic cities of Europe and Africa.

During the first couple of hours those venturing on deck on deck would have been in a position to admire the twinkling lights along the coast of France and then England visible across the dark calm waters of a windless night.

As midnight approached and passengers began to drift off to their accommodations, crewmembers of the next midnight to four watch would have been preparing to go to their stations and relieve their shipmates from their stations of the previous four hours.

In cabins on various decks the unfamiliar sounds of the repetitive mechanical operations that propelled the ship through the water kept some awake and lulled others to sleep. Outside, and in in the night time chill, vigilant lookouts sought out the unusual or misplaced.  And as the ship progressed the constant hypnotic sound of the wash enveloped her while the dissipating effervescence of the wake receded astern and lost its luminance to a blackened ocean.  A whole microcosm of society slept between the steel bulkheads that divided the wealthy from the poor. In the hierarchy of the crew there were those that sweated in heat of the boiler rooms while others stood proud and uniformed in the Eyrie that was the bridge.

Morning would bring the light of the heavens the sounds of the gulls and the distinctive smell of grass and fresh vegetation coming off the rolling hills and fields of the South coast of Ireland. The friendly and experienced face of the local ships pilot climbed aboard and under John Cotter’s guidance at 12 noon the cluttering rumble of the anchor cable being laid out would reverberate along the hull. Seven passengers were already well up and prepared to disembark. While one hundred and twenty three expectant faces on two tenders were eager to exchange places and embark with their dreams to cross the wide Atlantic. Ninety minutes later, with one less crew member who had deserted the ship, all the business had been done. Embarking and disembarking, loading of mails, purchases from traders and acquisitions from local fishermen. Mayoral farewells and well wishes of tender crews were left behind as the pilot guided the ship and its crew to the supposed safety of the open sea. The last man to leave the ship, before its traumatic halt by a force of nature, had no idea of the catastrophe that would play out. Thursday a day at sea without incident. Friday a community of over two thousand two hundred settling into shipboard life. The hum of the engines, the regularity of the rotating watch, the trail of the wake. Saturday still parts of the ship to explore. Sunday morning ice warnings, afternoon more. And still the throb of the engines don’t change. The speed of the ship does not alter. Late evening the community turns in for another nights sleep with the reassuring drone of the ship now a comfort. In the last hour before midnight occasional toasts still tinkle, music subdues and crew prepares to rotate. A distant shout, a leisurely response, a creeping realization and below decks the encroachment of nature.

Dedicated to all those who died on RMS Titanic this weekend one hindred and six years ago.

© Michael Martin 2018



Snow in Cobh in 2018

One of the most frequently asked questions by visitors to Cobh is, ‘do you ever get any snow here?’. The most frequent response is ‘not very often and not very much of it’. The Palm trees that line the main street along the town surprise visitors and in the sunshine can certainly impart a hint of the tropics. This year however several generations of Cobh residents were to witness one of the heaviest snowfalls in the general memory of the town. The confluence of biting cold Easterly Arctic winds bringing incredibly heavy deposits of snow and the raging gales of storm Emma coming from the South, combined to deliver blizzard like conditions usually associated with much colder polar climates. Public Transport and a lot of business’s were impeded, roads were blocked with snow drifts leading later to black ice and thousands of tons of melting slush. All had to be overcome to deliver essential services. Despite the challenges many of the small local stores remained open in loyalty to their daily customers.

The most interesting effect by far during those Arctic days in early March was that the spirit of the townspeople seems to have been universally lifted. As it was impossible to drive cars in the conditions, everybody was out walking. Walking gingerly across the newly blanketed white expanse, walking and talking to each other, walking and sharing stories of burst pipes, discussing the possibility of outages of power, offering assistance and advice on how to survive the snow and much more. There was an uplifting of community bonding, a sense of shared adversity, a collective joy at the fun and amazement being experienced by children playing in snow for the first time in their young lives. For adults who had never had to shovel snow from their drives, a whole suite of necessary chores were created. All said it was wonderful. The added bonus was that our spectacularly photogenic town was enhanced even more. The shapes and contours of architecturally preserved buildings were even more amazing draped in brilliant white. The marked detail of vegetation and tree limbs delineated by fresh snowfall engaged the eye and supplanted the mundane. After a couple of days, the novelty of having ‘snow days’ in front of the fire wore off and reality had to be faced again. But for a brief period in March, the sentiment certainly was….let it snow, let it snow, let in snow !!!

(C) Michael Martin 2018

Photos: (C) Geraldine Martin


Titanic Trail 20 years on: Cobh’s appetising menu of Heritage

In planning the creation of an historical walking tour, the one thing there was no shortage of in Cobh, was historical sites and narratives. Surprising as it may seem now, there was little association in between Cobh and Titanic in the mid 1990s. Although the Irish Titanic Historical Society based in Dublin had diligently preserved the memory of the ship and its narrative applicable to Cobh, it was not really in the mind frame of visitors or indeed tour operators. A local man called Vincent Keaney was probably the first to invest in the idea of creating a vibrant and exciting link between Titanic and Cobh for the tourism industry. He opened a Titanic style restaurant and bar in the same office block that once was occupied by the agency for the White Star Line itself. Vincent was a knowledgeable Titanic enthusiast whose ideas were always fresh and innovative. It was unfortunate that this development didn’t work out in the way he had envisioned it.

Meanwhile there were countless Titanic enthusiasts around the world that had read a great deal about the ship, had developed a keen interest in its story but associated its last port of call with a place called Queenstown. I have been told by hundreds of people over the years that it took them a long time to make the connection between the pre-independence name of Queenstown and the current name of Cobh. Creating a product called the Titanic Trail to be based in Cobh helped clarify the link!

Prior to the 1990s, despite the fact that the Titanic had worldwide appeal, its association with Cobh was miniscule. The ship briefly called to the mouth of Cork harbour and fate dealt a blow that was to consign that stop as the last port of call. For most of the 90 minutes it spent at the mouth of the Harbour it would not have been visible to most of the population of Cobh !! However for those that embarked and disembarked, there is a wealth of associated built heritage and a meaningful narrative to be gleaned from the study of the human stories surrounding the ship set into its proper historical context. Titanic was a working vessel built to ply the North Atlantic route to deliver, convey, carry and transport cargo, goods, mail and people. In the minds of the vast majority of people who found themselves on board she was an emigrant ship. Like thousands that had come before and would come after her.

So my concept of a ‘Titanic Trail’ was not to be so much about one ship, but more about the fascinating backdrop of the harbour where she last stopped and about the movements, motivations and experiences of the people who had passed through it for centuries. Thus this approach opened multiple topics of engagement for visitors taking the tour. The expansive narratives of migration and arrival. The great stories of exploration and adventure. The pitiful accounts of desperation and flight. The strategic placement of military assets and fortifications. The progession of sail to mechanized propulsion. The expansion and opening up of new worlds. Cobh in Cork Harbour was was a fitting place to deliver discourse on such things, Cobh’s spectacular built heritage a fitting backdrop to the treasures of our past. A finite selection of places of interest then began and Cobh had so much to offer !Annie Mooreprom3

A twenty year journey through the mists of time


Picture1The Origin of the Titanic Trail Guided Walking Tour of Cobh


Like all new ideas, the development of a guided walking tour in Cobh to be called the Titanic Trail was not universally welcomed when first mooted by me. Perhaps it was the fact that there was no other daily Titanic attraction in Ireland (or anywhere else) in 1998. Perhaps it was the notion among some local residents in Cobh that nobody would be interested in such a thing. Maybe it was the fact that up until then Cobh’s economy had been centred on industry other than tourism. Or worse still, maybe the prospect of an outsider from Dublin regaling visitors with the history of the locality when he wasn’t even born here was a stretch too far. After all, Cork Harbour boasted an oil refinery, a shipbuilding yard, a Naval Base, a steel mill, an electrical power generating station, a fertilizer plant and numerous global pharmaceutical giants all of whom provided gainful employment that nurtured a local economy. Who needed tourism?


Thankfully not everybody was dubious about tourism. In the early 1990s the Cobh and Harbour Chamber of Commerce initiated a consultant report that had suggested tourism may be a viable industry for the future. As a result of recommendations made, the Queenstown Story Heritage Centre was conceived and although it struggled initially, it eventually became an iconic attraction to those interested in the heritage of the area. However there was one small issue about its location. Despite the fact that the building was housed in an attractive Victorian railway station, the access and egress routes of coach tours to and from the museum did not expose visitors to the town’s magnificent built heritage and harbour views.


Although I had never worked in the tourism sector before 1997, (I served 23 in the Navy) the fact that thousands of potential visitors were missing the greatest assets that Cobh and the Harbour had to offer, seemed painfully obvious to me. However there were two incidents that really inspired me to create a walking tour in Cobh neither of which occurred in Cobh itself. If fact both locations were over 2,000 miles from the town and in opposite directions!


In the late 1980s I was in the United States as part of a Naval delegation were participating in the St Patrick’s Day celebrations and Parade for Boston. On a quiet afternoon when the heady celebrations had died down I happened on the ‘Boston Freedom Trail’. I found myself fascinated by the idea that I was standing beside the actual buildings in which history was made. Hearing the stories in the specific location of occurrence resonated with me deeply. I then thought of my home town of Cobh where ships headed off from its piers to unknown oceans, where millions of emigrants made their way at times in desperation of finding a better life elsewhere and where soldiers and sailors departed and arrived from distant wars. What a great diversity of international heritage!

I realized there and then that people would be fascinated to hear those stories in the same way that I had been engaged in places like Boston, Philadelphia, Mesa Verde Colorado and so many more. Any doubts I had about the ability to create something in an environment where some people thought it would result in failure was laid to rest in another place in a very different part of the world.


Two continents away on 1994 I was serving with the United Nations Interim Force in Lebanon (UNIFIL). The region had a long tradition of volatility and suffered military, religious and ethnic conflict on a scale that was incomprehensible to those of us who were lucky enough to have been born and reared in peaceful western democracies. In what was a routine mission, myself and a small number of comrades, had been assigned to attend a conference in the conflict-ravaged city of Tyre. We went through our usual routine of collecting and checking our side arms, donning our flak jackets, notifying operations that we would be travelling to the gathering at a specific time and in a specific vehicle. The journey from our camp through the war torn area of operations was uneventful other than the occasional sound of nearby artillery fire. We arrived safely at the location and deposited our arms in a designated UN safe area before continuing into the conference room where the only place to put our distinctive blue helmets and bullet proof vests was under our chairs. After a few minutes a Lebanese gentleman arrived to greet us and began to advocate with great pride and amazing enthusiasm all the joys and benefits of considering a vacation in his beautiful country. My abiding impression of that day was that even in the face of the most extraordinary challenges, the right mix of determination, creativity and single-mindedness can generate success when many see failure.


So in 1997 I decided I would create the Titanic Trail guided Walking tour of Cobh. I set about researching the historical backdrop of area and so began a fascinating meandering through the mists of time. Join me in coming blogs on my journey of discovery and amazement.

New Titanic Trail Blog

On the Titanic Trail Guided Walking Tour with Dr Michael Martin

Greetings again to the world from my new Blog. I did attempt to create one eight years ago but didn’t have the time or technical expertise to continue it. So I’m back !!!

Much has happened in the last 8 years. The centenary events to commemorate both RMS Lusitania and RMS Titanic have come and gone. The world has rotated thousands of times, wars have started and finished, typical political profiles and configurations have altered profoundly. There has been famine, global alterations in weather systems, mind-blowing advances in shipbuilding and the continued theme of migration of people from and to many parts of our planet.

The world lost Milvena Deane, who all her life, was Titanic’s youngest survivor. She survived at just 9 weeks old and lived until the age of 97 years, passing away in May of 2009. She was our last living link with the ship.

In forthcoming blogs I will be looking at the narratives, historical perspectives and stories from the past and in the present. those that surround Cork Harbour, RMS Titanic, emigration from Ireland and much much more……

As always the Titanic Trail Guided Walking tour of Cobh, my books, publications and new tour offerings will be highlighted on

Talk Soon !

Dr Michael Martin

Author and Creator Titanic Trail