Latest news with #Castletownbere
The Independent
04-07-2025
- The Independent
Eight men jailed for involvement in Ireland's largest ever drugs haul
Eight men have received prison sentences in relation to Ireland's largest ever drugs seizure, which was made after Irish soldiers dramatically intercepted a cargo ship two years ago. They received sentences varying in length from 13 and a half years to 20 years for their involvement. More than 2.2 tonnes of cocaine worth around 157 million euro (£132 million) was found aboard the MV Matthew after the ship was stormed by Irish troops in September 2023. The drugs were seized after the Irish Army Ranger Wing boarded the vessel in a daring operation conducted while the crew attempted to steer the ship to high seas. Eight men admitted their roles in trying to smuggle cocaine as part of a massive drug trafficking operation. Six of the men arrested on board the MV Matthew all pleaded guilty to possession of cocaine for sale or supply on board the MV Matthew between 24 and 26 September 2023. At sentencing on Friday, Dutch national Cumali Ozgen, 49, received a sentence of 20 years, while the second officer, Filipino Harold Estoesta, 31, received a sentence of 18 years. The captain of the vessel, Iranian Soheil Jelveh, 51, received 17 and a half years in prison. Ukrainian nationals Vitaliy Vlasoi, 33, received a 16-and-a-half-year sentence and Mykhailo Gavryk, 32, received 14 years' imprisonment. Saeid Hassani, 40, who was the third officer, received a 15-year sentence. Two other men, who were on the boat the Castlemore that had been purchased in Castletownbere to collect drugs from the main vessel, were also sentenced for attempting to possess cocaine for sale or supply. Ukrainian national Vitaliy Lapa, 62, with an address at Rudenka, Repina Str in Berdyansk, received a sentence of 14 and a half years. Jamie Harbron, 31, of South Avenue, Billingham in the UK, received a sentence of 13 and a half years in prison. Detective Superintendent Joe O'Reilly from An Garda Siochana said the sentences provide a 'clear message' that Ireland is 'not a soft target' for international organised crime networkers. 'To those involved in drug trafficking, the message is clear that the full force of the Irish state, supported by our international partners, is against you,' he told reporters outside the Criminal Courts of Justice in Dublin. 'The reality facing you is security interdictions, special investigations, the Special Criminal Court, lengthy sentences and asset seizure. 'Transnational organised crime gangs cause misery to communities, not only in Ireland but throughout the world. Tackling these gangs not only makes Ireland safer but all the other countries that they operate in as well.' Detective Superintendent Joe O'Reilly noted the work of the joint task force, which includes An Garda Siochana, the Revenue Customs Service and the Naval Service supported by other arms of the Irish Defence Forces including the Army Ranger Wing and Air Corps.
Yahoo
04-07-2025
- Yahoo
Eight men jailed for involvement in Ireland's largest ever drugs haul
Eight men have received prison sentences in relation to Ireland's largest ever drugs seizure, which was made after Irish soldiers dramatically intercepted a cargo ship two years ago. They received sentences varying in length from 13 and a half years to 20 years for their involvement. More than 2.2 tonnes of cocaine worth around 157 million euro (£132 million) was found aboard the MV Matthew after the ship was stormed by Irish troops in September 2023. The drugs were seized after the Irish Army Ranger Wing boarded the vessel in a daring operation conducted while the crew attempted to steer the ship to high seas. Eight men admitted their roles in trying to smuggle cocaine as part of a massive drug trafficking operation. Six of the men arrested on board the MV Matthew all pleaded guilty to possession of cocaine for sale or supply on board the MV Matthew between 24 and 26 September 2023. At sentencing on Friday, Dutch national Cumali Ozgen, 49, received a sentence of 20 years, while the second officer, Filipino Harold Estoesta, 31, received a sentence of 18 years. The captain of the vessel, Iranian Soheil Jelveh, 51, received 17 and a half years in prison. Ukrainian nationals Vitaliy Vlasoi, 33, received a 16-and-a-half-year sentence and Mykhailo Gavryk, 32, received 14 years' imprisonment. Saeid Hassani, 40, who was the third officer, received a 15-year sentence. Two other men, who were on the boat the Castlemore that had been purchased in Castletownbere to collect drugs from the main vessel, were also sentenced for attempting to possess cocaine for sale or supply. Ukrainian national Vitaliy Lapa, 62, with an address at Rudenka, Repina Str in Berdyansk, received a sentence of 14 and a half years. Jamie Harbron, 31, of South Avenue, Billingham in the UK, received a sentence of 13 and a half years in prison. Detective Superintendent Joe O'Reilly from An Garda Siochana said the sentences provide a 'clear message' that Ireland is 'not a soft target' for international organised crime networkers. 'To those involved in drug trafficking, the message is clear that the full force of the Irish state, supported by our international partners, is against you,' he told reporters outside the Criminal Courts of Justice in Dublin. 'The reality facing you is security interdictions, special investigations, the Special Criminal Court, lengthy sentences and asset seizure. 'Transnational organised crime gangs cause misery to communities, not only in Ireland but throughout the world. Tackling these gangs not only makes Ireland safer but all the other countries that they operate in as well.' Detective Superintendent Joe O'Reilly noted the work of the joint task force, which includes An Garda Siochana, the Revenue Customs Service and the Naval Service supported by other arms of the Irish Defence Forces including the Army Ranger Wing and Air Corps.
Irish Independent
03-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Irish Independent
Kerry sheep farmer goes from pub sessions to streaming platforms with debut single at 70
There's not too many firsts left to achieve in life when you hit the milestone age of 70. is unless your name is John Egan, who at the start of his eighth decade of life has achieved a massive first for himself this week with the release of his debut single, a cover of the great Tom Mullins' song Castletownbere which is available to listen to now on all streaming platforms.
Irish Times
14-06-2025
- Irish Times
A day in the Bere Island school where teachers commute by ferry and classes take place on the beach
8.45am It's the first week of a prolonged spell of gloriously sunny May weather, and I'm at the pier at Castletownbere in Co Cork , where several people are gathered, waiting to board the 9am ferry to Bere Island. Among the scattering of tourists in bright walking gear and stout boots are Fiona Hartnett and Aoife Butler. They are both teachers at Bere Island primary school, Scoil Mhichil Naofa, where 25 pupils await them at the other side of the water. Today the two teachers are joined by support teacher Darragh O'Sullivan. The teachers always have to be exceptionally punctual. School literally can't start unless they make the morning ferry. 'There's only one way in and one way out,' Hartnett says. When I ask her what are the particular challenges of teaching on an island, especially when she has to commute by ferry to get there, she doesn't hesitate in her reply. READ MORE 'Getting a substitute teacher.' Children play in the playground of the Primary School on Bere Island, Co. Cork. Primary school teachers Fiona Hartnett and Aoife Butler take the Bere Island Ferry over and back to the primary school on the island every day. Photograph: Dan Dennison The ferry to Bere Island from the pier in Castletownbere. Photograph: Dan Dennison The ferry can take four cars, or on this particular crossing, one huge, fully loaded truck and two cars. Watching the heavy truck reverse down the pier and then navigate backwards on to the ferry into the tightest of spaces is to witness driving of a skill few people could manage. 'It's like Tetris,' says Irish Times videographer and photographer Dan Dennison, who gingerly reverses his own (smaller) vehicle on to the ferry, looking apprehensive. The ferry departs at 9am sharp for the 20-minute crossing, swinging out into the stretch of water that lies between island and mainland. The sea is utterly calm and a rare cornflower blue. When the ferryman hears we are reporters going over to do a story at the school for the day, he flat-out refuses to take payment for either us or the car. The primary school Scoil Mhichil Naofa on Bere Island, Co Cork. Photograph: Dan Dennison 9.20am Hartnett has a car parked at the pier on the island. She takes Butler and O'Sullivan with her, and we follow. The road winds here and there and upwards for a couple of kilometres, and then her car stops at a single-storey building in a grassy hollow, fringed with mature trees. Children aged four to 12 are arriving: on foot, or hopping out of cars, or running down the road, little daypacks bouncing on their backs. This three-room school dates from 1980. The right-hand room is Hartnett's classroom, where she teaches junior infants, senior infants, first and second class; ages four to eight. The middle room has a kitchenette, storage for materials, a library, beanbags and a space for O'Sullivan to work one-to-one with students who need extra support. The room on the left is Butler's classroom, where she teaches third, fourth, fifth and sixth class; ages nine to 12. In March this year, enrolment data from the Department of Education showed that 127 primary schools had fewer than 20 pupils. Two-teacher primary schools, like Scoil Mhichil Naofa, are still woven into the social fabric of rural Ireland. Nowhere is their existence more vital to a community than on islands. Bere Island has a population of just under 200. As so many small rural communities across the country have lost services over recent years, such as post offices, banks and Garda stations, the local primary school has become an even more crucial social hub. There are just two classrooms at Scoil Mhichil Naofa on Bere Island. Photograph: Dan Dennison Irish words and numbers at Scoil Mhichil Naofa. Photograph: Dan Dennison 9.30am The school day starts. Officially it starts at 9.20am, but on an island, there's always a bit of latitude for getting off the ferry and driving up to the school. I'm sitting in Hartnett's classroom, where they are working on a word-association game where she invites the class to tell her words they associate with 'summer'. Their island environment shines through in their answers. 'Beaches!' 'Fishing!' 'Sand!' 'Swimming!' Hartnett does another word game. This one is word association with Bere Island itself. 'Island!' 'Shark!' 'Wild bulls!' 'Water!' 'Fish!' 'Walrus on a speedboat!' shouts out one child, clearly inspired by a television ad for a certain media company, and everyone falls around laughing. 'What are some of the things that happen in the summer?' Hartnett asks. 'Barbecues!' Isla Daly in Fiona Hartnett's class listing words associated with summer. Photograph: Dan Dennison Teacher Fiona Hartnett with her class in the primary school on Bere Island, Co Cork. Photograph: Dan Dennison Then one very small child pipes up, 'The Tour De France!' with perfect French pronunciation. There's a silence in the room. These are not familiar words to the majority of the class. 'Yes, you're right. The Tour de France happens in the summer,' Hartnett says. 'What is the Tour De France?' Silence. The small child who threw out the phrase puts her hand up, waving it back and forth furiously like a branch in a storm. 'It's a cycling race,' she says triumphantly, clearly delighted to be in possession of a scrap of information not shared by her classmate. 10am At the other side of the building, in Butler's class, some of her older students are studying Irish tenses, while the younger ones are doing jigsaws that depict different parts of the world, or national flags. 'How I mange the different classes in the same room is that one group is learning, while the other is working on exercises,' she explains later. At one stage, when a child has completed a jigsaw of Europe, Butler comes over to shake it up and give the puzzle to another child. 'Miss, you've broken the world,' the child says, when parts of different countries in jigsaw form tumble on to the table. 10.30am There's a tin whistle lesson. The tune is the earworm Mary Had a Little Lamb, and it is fair to say not everyone finds the right tune, but everyone gives it a good go. Butler is endlessly patient with her young musicians. Over the next couple of days, I am to catch myself randomly – and tunelessly – singing Mary Had A Little Lamb. At some point, Butler brings up on the interactive whiteboard the day's Connections word puzzle from the New York Times. As it happens, I do this puzzle every day myself, and there are days when I don't always solve it, usually foxed by American lingo, or sporting references I have never gleaned. Everyone sits up excitedly when Connections comes on the screen. Butler calls different children to take turns at the board, choosing the four words from the 16 on offer that connect in some way with each other. Throughout the day, I will continue to marvel at both Hartnett and Butler's ability to both teach and multi-task, and how they each respond to the different concentration levels of children at different ages in the same classroom Four of today's words are 'Hawaiian', 'Plain', 'Supreme' and 'Vegetable'. In five seconds, the class has figured out that the connection is one of their favourite things – pizza. I wonder if the person who set today's New York Times Connections puzzle knows it is being played all over the world, including in a small school on a small island off the coast of Co Cork in Ireland. The children also play the New York Times game Wordle, and Flaggle, a game where you have to figure out which national flag is being slowly revealed. 'We do them every day,' Butler tells me later. 'They love it.' 11am Back in Hartnett's class, during the lesson, one child asks to go to the toilet; another wonders aloud how long until lunchtime; another gets up, goes over to Hartnett's desk, and starts playing with some pens there, until guided gently back to her seat. Another child brings up a water bottle to be opened. These are the youngest cohort of children in the room; the four- and five-year-olds. Hartnett navigates all these ad hoc interruptions with skill and warmth. With some children in the class between the ages of four and five, the noise levels creep upwards from time to time. Hartnett has a simple but extremely effective way of pulling the children's attention back to class. When the noise starts to get too loud, she does a quick unheralded clapping sequence that goes a bit like 'Clap! Clap! Clap-Clap-Clap.' The children all join in and also clap the same sequence. It's her signal for everyone to be quiet. And after every little clapping session, they are indeed quiet – for a time. She doesn't have to say a word. Throughout the day, I will continue to marvel at both Hartnett and Butler's ability to both teach and multitask, and how they each respond to the different concentration levels of children at different ages in the same classroom. 11.20am It's lunchtime for both classes at 11.20am. I note the motivation, especially in Hartnett's class, to be able to tell the time on the wall clock is strong. Connie O'Donoghue, who is five, has been doing a countdown under his breath to 11.20am. On the exact count of 11.20am, the children spring up as one. Connie O'Donoghue poses for his portrait in Fiona Hartnett's classroom in the primary school on Bere Island, Co Cork. Photograph: Dan Dennison I assume they are rushing to their lunch boxes, but no. They form a surprisingly patient queue to wash their hands by turn at the washbasin in the corner of the room, where each child has their own tiny towel (really a facecloth) hanging up with their name on it. Then they dig into rice cakes and sandwiches and bananas and grapes and slices of apple. Everything is gobbled up by 11.30am, because of course it's one of the two highlights of the day – playtime. The two classes burst out into the yard like so many corks exploding from bottles. Children play in mixed age groups in the playground on Bere Island. Photograph: Dan Dennison 11.40am It's playtime in the yard for the whole school. The youngest child in Hartnett's classroom is Oleksandre Loboda, who is four. There are three 12-year-olds in Butler's classroom: Feya MacCarthy, Erica Murphy, and Abigale Harrington. There are sibling groups in each classroom too. Leo O'Keeffe Sullivan (10) and his brother Elliot (9), sit adjacent to each other. As the children play together outside, I meditate on what it must be like to spend your primary school days – your entire primary school years, in fact – in such close proximity with the same few people. There must be some inevitable bonding for life, as well as bonus lessons in the art of socialisation. Most children tend to play and hang out with their peers, because their peers are the people they spend the most time in school with, but at Scoil Mhichil Naofa on Bere Island, at break time, everyone plays together. I see chasing games, and games of 'It', and rounders, where some runners have the short legs of six-year-olds, and others the longer legs of 11-year-olds. We are inside, talking to support teacher O'Sullivan when Hartnett knocks loudly on the window for our attention, and points to the road. 'Cows!' she shouts. A large herd of cows are running past the (closed) school gates, bawling and mooing, and flicking their tails. The children run up to the gates to gawk, and then return to their games. The Irish Times photographer vaults over the gate with his camera and runs after the retreating cows. Noon At noon, two minibuses pull up outside the school gates. Butler's class is going on a marine treasure hunt to the Cloughland beach at the East End of the island. The minibus I travel on is driven by local woman Ann Harrington (a surname that repeats over and over during the day I'm on Bere). The drive to the beach at the East End in the hot noon sunshine is ridiculously, absurdly beautiful. The fields are lush and dotted with grazing sheep. The odd winsome donkey watches us pass by, curious head over a gate, while the edges of the verdant island shimmer with beaches. Up the airy roads and down the rocky glens the two minibuses go, as if we were in the cheesiest Irish version of the cheesiest Hallmark movie shot through a technicolour-saturated lens. What does it do to your consciousness as a child, I find myself wondering as I look out the window; growing up with such gorgeous landscape to look at, and having the rare freedom of living on a safe island to roam around? They might take it all for granted now, but sometime in the future, the children in these two minibuses will possibly look back at their island school days on Bere and realise how special an experience it was to be able to go so easily to a beautiful beach for an environmental experience. The Cloughland beach is indeed beautiful. It's completely empty, for a start; a sandy beach with clear rock pools and mounds of glistening seaweed and a small pier. The children from 3rd to 6th class go on a beach walk to compile a nature report of their findings on their iPads on Bere Island, Co Cork. Photograph: Dan Dennison The children from 3rd to 6th catalogue nature findings on the beach. Photograph: Dan Dennison Jude Harrington on the beach. Photograph: Dan Dennison On the beach, the children work in pairs of two to find the 16 objects on the 'bingo cards' they have made on pieces of paper back in the classroom. Each pair shares a school iPad, which come armoured in heavy-duty purple covers. Every time they find something, they tick it off their bingo card and take a photo of it. 'Shell, sand, bird, water, fancy rock, 'peri wrinkle', jelly fish, jumpy things under rocks, bugs, salt, something weird or creepy, crab shell, something white, flower, rubbish, bird poo,' one sheet reads. The children of 3rd to 6th class on a nature walk by the beach. Photograph: Dan Dennison Twelve-year-olds Leo O'Keeffe Sullivan and Abigale Harrington's bingo list, accompanied by lovely drawings, includes a number of similar objects, with a few additions of their own. 'Seaweed, Elliot, a bus, anemone.' The Lesser-Spotted Elliot is duly found, and his photo added. At one end of the beach, Jude Harrington (9) insists that we come to look at 'the rainforest'. I clamber after him, over slippery, mossy stones, and find myself looking down from a height into a slice of narrow cove, the sand dappled with sunlight that shines though the 'rainforest' trees above. It is such a gloriously unexpected surprise of a view, and I turn to thank Jude for bringing us there, but he's gone, skipping back to the others, who have busied themselves with a new game. All their objects have been duly found and photographed, so the children now turn their undivided attention to the universal game that children all over the world play near water – the game of who can throw the biggest stone into the sea off the pier and make the biggest splash. Back and forth they scurry tirelessly, sometimes lugging rocks in pairs, intent on their self-imposed task. Only the arrival of the minibuses to bring us back to school ends this game. 1pm In Hartnett's class, the lesson is about wind, and what causes it. Images come up on the screen of hair being blown around, of a wind turbine, of a storm. There is some restlessness until the topic changes and a picture of a Venus Fly trap appears on the screen. Hartnett explains how the plant works; how it gets nutrients from trapping flies inside its little green snapping leaves. Then she plays a video of this happening. The children are agog. 'Wow!' they shout, simultaneously appalled and fascinated as a plant swallows a fly. 1.20pm There's another break for both classes to eat. 1.30pm Everyone goes out to play again for 20 minutes. 1.50pm Hartnett's class start putting their tiny chairs up on the tables, and looking for their shoes and lunch boxes and other paraphernalia. Not all these items are found. 2pm There's a big group picture outside. Hartnett's class are picked up by their parents and guardians. School is over for the day for them. Class photograph at the Bere Island primary school. Photograph: Dan Dennison 2.15pm The children have used their iPads to make a story about their trip to the beach, incorporating all the photos they took, and personalising it with their names and borders. They look fantastic. I feel about a million years old, thinking back to my own analogue school nature walks, which usually consisted of sticking leaves and sticks and seeds into a copy afterwards with Sellotape. 2.30pm Most of the children in Butler's class are reading. She takes each child up to her desk in turn to quietly look at their last night's homework. I take the opportunity to ask the class what they like about their school. 'That I have lots of friends,' Meabh Hobbs (11) says. 'I like that there's not many people here. It's not crowded,' Anthony Murphy (9) says. 2.50pm Tidy-up time. Books are put away into clear boxes under the table, one child takes the designated daily turn to sweep the floor, and the others put their chairs up on the desks. With only a few minutes to freedom, they are all now visibly longing to go home. Adults start arriving at the school gates. Bags are grabbed. 'Thank you, Miss! See you tomorrow, Miss!' they shout as one, and run out the door, leaving some unswept crumbs on the floor, and a sudden, shockingly deep silence behind them.
Irish Times
08-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Irish Times
Tarrac na Farraige review: RTÉ documentary about fishing livelihoods is both stunning and heartbreaking
Who'd be a deepwater fisherman? The hours are punishing, the working conditions precarious and, amid questions about the high environmental price of industrialised fishing, the future is murky. But there are some things in life that defy logic – and that is the case with the call of the open water, as RTÉ demonstrates in its rewarding new documentary Tarrac na Farraige (RTÉ One, Thursday, 7pm). This beautifully made two-part series offers an engaging portrait of a way of life that may soon be gone forever – with ever greater consolidation in the industry, fewer and fewer 'skippers' have a boat of their own. It is also a love letter to the gorgeous Irish coastline, featuring lush overhead shots of Castletownbere in Cork , Baile na nGall in the Waterford Gaeltacht and Inis Mór off the Galway coast. You could watch it with the sound down. The fishing captains profiled are a fascinating bunch – passionate about the sea to the point of obsession. Standing outside his bungalow on Inis Mór, Enda Dirrane talks about his need for connection to the sea. Even before he became a full-time fisherman at 16, it was a constant in his life. 'I wouldn't live anywhere else,' he says as the sun twinkles on the water. 'I definitely couldn't live in the middle of the country. I'm always thinking about fishing.' Tarrac na Farraige is far beyond the traditional RTÉ realm of stodgy, Nationwide-style documentaries Several of those featured have had more than their share of private loss. In Castletownbere, Larry Murphy recalls discovering his son Wayne died while they were returning to port. 'Buried him on his 26th birthday,' Murphy recalls. 'He died on our way back from Norway . Bought the boat in 2004; he died in 2004. He was married with one kid. It was a bad, bad blow.' READ MORE Tragedy has also befallen Co Waterford's Fionn Ó Corraoin. 'Not many members of my family were fishermen,' Ó Corraoin says. 'My uncle and my grandfather on my mother's side…The others were farmers. But I grew up two miles down the road [from the sea].' Ó Corraoin says he was inspired by his sister, Caoilfhionn, to pioneer a sustainable model of fishing – shortly afterwards she received a terminal cancer diagnosis. Everything he has done since has been in her memory. Ó Corraoin is determined 'to show you can make a living doing this'. He says this while guiding his boat into the deep blue waters off the coast. It is a stunning image that sits heartbreakingly alongside the challenges he has had to overcome – and which elevates Tarrac na Farraige far beyond the traditional RTÉ realm of stodgy, Nationwide-style documentaries bodged together on the cheap.
