Very nearly twenty years ago the world was about to enter the twenty-first Century on midnight 31
December it occurred to me as to many others to consider, how would it be fitting to mark this
momentous moment. I looked back in time to the Ireland of the previous millennium and thought of
the Vikings’ last invasion by river. I thought I could reverse that experience, by creating a Viking craft
to send it down the Boyne river, back to the sea.
At that time of late Autumn and winter, huge amounts of rain fell, and the river was full.
I turned to the construction of a raft. Even someone as ignorant as me would know that a skeleton is
the beginning. So, a large branch was put down on the ground as the keel. The awkward branches
lopped off and large bundle of small branches and twigs collected to tie to it as spars to flesh out the
skeleton. Hempen string was used, as it would rot eventually in the river water. Pulling one end of
the skeleton to the other with thicker string would create the bowed profile of the boat. Up and
down the keel went the strong twigs, and to them was attached sheets of cardboard as panels of the
boat. This was not going to be a long-lasting structure not much more than an illusion. But what it
must have, was a prow in the form of a dragon’s head, so an extra spar was added forward and a
double thick cardboard figure fashioned and secured. A coating of black water-colour was daubed all
over, save for bright eyes and teeth in the dragon’s head. A collection of medium stones was laid
along the keel as ballast. There it was, awaiting New Year’s Eve.
Come the evening, the night sky was clear of clouds, but there was a brisk wind blowing in from the
East, against the current. Four of us as a party enjoyed the evening, and then as midnight
approached, we gathered at the bank. A little bit upriver, I pushed the craft out with a pole one third
into the flow where it spun slowly then steadied. With the wind blowing towards it, the craft had a
tendency to drift towards the bank. The four of us sang encouraging songs and made jokes at my
expense. When the other three made back to the house for the firelight and the remains of the
feast, I stayed to push the boat away, back into the current. The night was light and the moon and
stars shining brightly. The river looking eastwards was a dark road. I looked along it as the craft
drifted slowly away. Suddenly I was aware that my little boat wasn’t the only thing on the river.
What was that large shadow ahead? What was coming up towards me, still some distance away, but
moving steadily onwards? It was a sail, and there were oars pushing it on and there was a prow.
Good God, after 1000 years, the real Vikings, with their axes, were returning…….