Twenty-eight members of the HYC Cruising Group took part in a very emotional ‘Armada’ on Saturday 8th September last. The occasion was named: “The David (Chunkie) Appleyard Memorial Breakfast”. The venue was the National Yacht Club where at the breakfast there last year, Chunkie and Joe Nolan presented ‘Admiral’ O’Neill with his Admiralty attire. The sailing division of the ‘Armada’ departed Howth at 10:00 hours and hove-to at the Nose of Howth in sight of the Baily Lighthouse whereafter Joe Nolan recited the lovely poem “Sea Fever” and Pat Connolly struck 8 bells to signify “the end of David’s watch” a portion of his ashes were scattered accompanied with a red rose. ‘Admiral’ Gerry O’Neill also assigned his cap to accompany the ashes. It was a most emotional occasion. See attached photographs from Peter Connolly and Willie Kearney.
“Sea Fever”
I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by;
And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea’s face, and a grey dawn breaking.
I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.
I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.
A lovely poem in memory of David (Chunkie) Appleyard by Joe Nolan:
The water and the fuel is topped
The food is on its way
Having a pint with grumpy
At the dimming of the day
The tidal gate is closing
And the crew is not yet here
Still packing boxes to pay for next week’s beer
Howya boss, from the door the next round is on me
Now that the tide is against us we won’t make Kilmore Quay
Well we had a pint or two that night
Or maybe we had three
When we headed out for Arklow
As happy as we could be
When the sun returns to Ireland
And the wind is warm and soft
There’ll be no snoring from the cockpit
‘cause Chunkie’s gone aloft
When you slip into Dungarvan
And Raider turns to stare
He knows my spirit’s with you
The Lady Frances knows I’m there
Report compiled by Joe Nolan and Pat Murphy
Reminder that the next Cruising Group meeting is on Tuesday 2nd October 8pm
