Eoghan Harris: Baltimore lifeboat is like little republic of its own
MY house in Baltimore was reputedly occupied by the Victorian coastguard officer (clearly a hardy soul who made light of the water that weeps from its sea-sand walls) so I take a proprietorial interest in the comings and goings in Baltimore Harbour.
Last Monday night I was standing at the window, watching the whitecaps fade in the foggy light and joking on the phone with Paul Cusack who, with his wife Elma, and extended Cusack family, was sitting snug in Annie May's in Skibbereen, celebrating his mother-in-law Eleanor's 90th birthday.
Just as I was getting into a good riff about what tourists would make if Jeremy Irons (alas, away filming) turned up at the feast in full Borgia mode, I heard a coastguard helicopter heading out to sea. And I knew the Baltimore lifeboat would be out there too, looking for those in trouble with the sea.