Consternation in Myrtleville this morning! Kerfuffle! Discombobulation! Mad stuff altogether.
I was plodding along out by the corner at Bunnyconnellan when I saw three swimmers approaching. At speed. I mean – speed. It was the intrepid trio of Bernie, Jim and Trev. I turned around to head back to the beach – with them about 200 metres behind me. I was 500m out. As you can see from the first picture below (that’s me there in the distance on the left) they passed me – at speed, like – and were a good 200m ahead of me hitting the beach.
Now, I’m slow. I know that. I’m fine with it. I’m not that slow, though. They’re not more than twice as fast as me. Not on a normal day. This was NOT a normal day. The trio – they shouted – had suffered repeated, vicious, co-ordinated and just generally feckin awful seal attacks by up to nine seals. It started at two but they were definitely talking about nine by the end of it. I didn’t see any myself. Must have been going too slowly.
I think the second picture below is Trevor explaining how close they had come to near death at the hands of Sealus Attackus Beastus. Either that or he’s saying how big the seal was – which would take a bit away from the drama of the attack, to be honest, if it was that size. I say IT, but I mean THEM – THEM, dozens of THEM. You can see Bernard staring out to sea anxiously in case THEY were coming on still. Terrifying, like. No way was it just a couple of ould seals out for a quiet swim. No way. Attack. Definitely an attack.
Despite their horrific experience, the trio posed for a picture with a fan (sound, lads) and then made their way shakingly up the beach, discussing googling “Seal Attacks” and whether warning signs should be put up. Mad stuff. Mad.
BE CAREFUL OUT THERE! Watch out for dogfish too. Now THEY are vicious, I can tell ya that. Don’t start me about dogfish.