I’m not sure who it was that said “it is better to light a candle than curse the darkness”, but I can tell you I have been cursing the darkness as well as lighting a myriad of candles over the past week, with the only signs of light visible being those coming through the gaping holes where forestry once stood.
Where I live, near Castlerea in Co Roscommon, we’re into day eight as I write this without power, and up to a few minutes ago, without water.
But as I write, the taps are beginning to gurgle so all fingers and toes are crossed.
I have given up looking at PowerCheck. Officially we are told it will be Monday before we have power (on the optimistic side).
I thank all those in Uisce Éireann whose heads I have been wrecking about water as I light another candle in the hope that the water will continue to flow.
Internet connectivity could be a different story altogether, but for now we will survive that and take the wins.
To understand where we are at, I’ll go back to Storm Darragh.
In December, Storm Darragh swept through the country and within a few short hours it had left a trail of destruction.
In an increasingly electrified world, we seem to have not only overlooked, but turned a blind eye to that dance between nature and infrastructure.
However, Storm Darragh showed us that we needed to get the steps right and urgently.
Unfortunately, we remain out of step.
In my own case, fallen trees in a nearby forest caused severe damage to the power line, which left us without power for four days.
The electricity outage was compounded by a two-day water outage.
Months previous to that, following another outage, I was informed by an ESB Networks worker, who had worked on restoring the line, that should another storm blow our way, our line — already seriously compromised — would cause major issues, and so it came to pass when Darragh blew through the wood.
This time Darragh felled dozens of trees and left a wind tunnel through the forest opening us up to more and more outages as already compromised trees swayed dangerously even in a light breeze.
Then Storm Éowyn hit. I thought I knew what was coming. I knew we would have no power or water for maybe a couple of days. I had clothes baskets emptied. The bath was filled with water. Everything that could blow away from around the house was put away.
The shower, washing machine, and dishwasher were in overdrive.
I woke at 3am on the Friday as Éowyn swept in and prayed that the roof would remain on the house.
With the power gone I waited until first light, fully expecting to see a gaping hole in the roof.
Thankfully, all was intact, the gaping holes were through the forest plantations on either side.
Trees bent in half. Trees, 10 deep, blocking the access to the main road.
Trees hanging precariously on a line under which we had to drive to make it to the outside world.
Trees everywhere, and that remains the story up and down the country.
I am one of thousands still without power as I write as ESB, forestry workers, and Uisce Éireann workers battle the conditions to get to the lines and pumping stations. They deserve our praise and thanks, not our anger.
After the last outage, I did make contact with Coillte and explained my case.
It would appear that the ground on which the forestry is located is owned by Coillte, but the forest itself is owned by a private company and even if agreement was reached on felling, a felling licence could take a year or more to obtain. ‘Give me a break’, I thought.
We are all aware of our climate responsibilities and footprints, but the reality for people in rural Ireland is that prolonged power outages are now rooted in forestry planted over 20 and 30 years ago.
These outages are becoming more frequent and lasting longer as workers struggle through difficult terrain to access the lines. Why?
The questions are endless.
The answers are nowhere to be found.
The situation is grim.
Which is worse you wonder — no power, no water, no wifi.
I’m in the no water camp. It’s all stressful. It’s all drudgery. But we are lucky. Others are in far worse positions.
We have a gas fire. We have a gas hob. The house is Baltic, but we have access to the outside world with heat, light, and water.
What about those who don’t?
There has been endless talk of power and water, but what about communications?
Signals are still patchy. Who is looking out for the elderly who have no other means of communication other than a patchy mobile phone signal?
As the red storm warning finished, we made our way to the local SuperValu in Castlerea.
It had its own generator and the aisles were full, as staff worked long and hard to feed the masses.
I thought to myself, 'where would we be in rural Ireland without rural businesses’?
These are the people at the heart of the community. Yes, they are in business to make a living, but yes, they care about the community.
There are lots of lessons to be learned from this storm, but among them is the lesson for those of us living in rural Ireland that we must continue to support our rural towns and villages.
If we don’t, we risk losing them and what happens when the next storm blows in and we have no one to bail us out with a cooked chicken, a flask of hot water or free wifi to check our emails?
Like the voluntary effort during covid, communities have rallied together with local politicians to provide water, charging points, endless pots of tea, and hot showers.
Being that I don’t fancy having the wobbly bits on show in the local GAA club’sor soccer club’s dressing rooms, which they have opened to the public for showers (one fright a year is enough for people), I took myself, my laptop, three bags of washing and four empty plastic containers for water to a friend’s house for the day.
The simple things in life — being able to wash your hands in hot water; going to the toilet without having to carry a drum of water with you to flush it; flick the kettle on for a cuppa and escape the darkness — I’m easily pleased.
As the days go by the frustration levels grow at the drudgery of it all.
But in the midst of all the physical darkness another darkness was to befall the local area when a local man, known across the county, Tommy Bruen, died in a road traffic accident.
The community is saddened.
The difficulties being experienced in regards to services pale into insignificance. Our collective hearts are broken for his family.
Taoiseach Micheál Martin was in Castlerea on Wednesday morning flanked by TD Martin Daly and local politicians.
Having viewed the absolute heartbreaking situation at the town’s Demesne where dozens of trees fell victim to the storm, I‘m not sure he was quite ready for Storm Rachel when he arrived back to the Gaff, which is being used as a community base for people.
I felt Rachel Connolly’s frustration as she let the two Martins have it with both barrels.
The national media were having a field day.
This is what they were looking for.
And the two Martins walked straight into it.
Rachel lives on the road parallel to my own.
When the wind blows on her road it sweeps down to our L road.
She didn’t set out to make national headlines and be the face of the anger swelling deep in the belly of every corner of Ireland, but she did.
As I stood there listening to her and the two Martins trying to make her see their reason, I thought: “Empathy, lads — that’s what’s needed here. Don’t try to shut her down or cut her off.”
Surely they should have learned by now how to weather a storm?
So, is there any bright light on the horizon?
Well, firstly thanks to a very patient Coillte forestry representative and the work of local politicians, a harvester has cleared the road. Step one.
As I write this, trees are coming down in the forest and new poles have been left on the side of the road. The superheroes in yellow vans have yet to arrive, but I live in hope. The tap is gurgling and I live in hope. It will take time to get internet services back, but again, I live in hope.
On behalf of those of us who remain without services and with the vast majority of the issues coming from forestry plantations, I have a couple of questions.
Why is there so little maintenance of power lines through forestry?
Why can’t power lines be re-routed where there is an obvious danger to supply?
Why are forestry plantations allowed to grow out of control?
Why do you not need planning permission for forestry, yet people in rural areas can’t even build a wall without it?
If a forest is due to be felled, why does a felling licence take so long to get?
These questions have the people of rural Ireland stumped.
We have lived 25 years on our road. In that time, apart from making an entrance to the forestry, no real work has been carried out there, to my knowledge.
I have heard all the stories, about set back distances, way leaves etc etc.
Frankly, I’m not interested in these details.
I’m interested in action, joined-up thinking, and foresight.
Previously, I told Coillte not to insult my intelligence by giving me a standard response, they didn’t give me any.
Climate change
To add to our problems coming down the line, the Government’s climate change advisors say in just 15 years, Ireland needs to be completely free of fossil fuels.
That means no more petrol and diesel cars and trucks. It means no more oil central heating, coal fires or gas boilers.
It means generating electricity entirely from wind farms, solar parks, and other renewable sources.
But they say we can’t wait until 2039 to make the transformation.
The Climate Change Advisory Council says we would need to ban the sale of petrol and diesel cars as early as this year and get rid of home heating oil and coal in five years.
They say the shift required will be “the most significant change since the foundation of the State”.
It will be “highly disruptive”, “initially expensive”, and will require “strong political leadership”, they warn.
However, failure to act will bring “profound costs to the Irish economy and to the people of Ireland”.
The theory of all of this is wonderful.
The problem is these measures will impact most on us who live in rural Ireland.
What would we have done over the last few days without gas burners, those of us lucky enough to have gas hobs to boil a kettle, or open fires to try and heat a room as temperatures dip well below zero?
It also brings to mind a solution from a former politician that went viral when he suggested that we all car pool in rural Ireland, suggesting that a village of 300 people could operate on 30 cars with carpooling schemes.
There is a growing disconnect in this country between the reality on the ground for those in rural Ireland and those who make the decisions.
The lack of investment in basic infrastructure has left a storm chill blowing north, south, east, and west of the M50.
It’s time for those who have the power to do something and see the wood from the trees.
Facing into a bank holiday weekend, I’m reminded of the line ‘the people walking in darkness have seen a great light’.
I can see the light through the trees, I’d just prefer now if I could get it with the flick of a switch as I emerge from the comfort of two duvets, two blankets, and a hot water bottle.
- Christina McHugh is editor of the Roscommon Herald
