Glaucus - A Club Crest Comes of Age
This article was written by Tom Shakespeare for a booklet commemorating the Irish Sub-aqua Club's twenty-fifth anniversary. Tom was one of the founding members of the Club.
Locked forever in silver, the crest of GLAUCUS has always attracted a great deal of admiration. His aggressive trusting attitude reflects the Club's will to succeed, from its earliest years.
In our silver anniversary year, many people asked about "Glaucus", his background and the whys and wherefores related to him. An examination of the Club minute book for the period only indicates that a "Badges and Ties Sub Committee" was formed in October 1959 "to examine the matter of a Club Badge and Tie". The Sub Committee was formed of A. W. Bishop, W. P. Crowley, and P. O'Connor. The minutes also record that at a meeting at H. S. Quigley's house at "Kilnamanagh" Bray Road, Foxrock, the committee approved a drawing of Glaucus and the motto "with enthusiasm into the depths". The Sub Committee also reported that ties would cost 17/6 (87 1/2) for poplin, and 14/6 (72 1/2) for tweed. They also approved that the club blazer should be black, with the crest embroidered in silver directly onto the pocket. Club colours were to be black and red. The tie was to have a repeating double line with the "Glaucus" motif.
There is nothing very inspiring in all this run of the mill committee work. Drawing on memory, from more than twenty-one years, I can recall some of the discussion which led up to the decisions which were made at the time. The Club was starting to grow strong. Without knowing it, they were, within months, to move within months into their first Club-rooms in Baggot Street. The image of the sport was stablising, it was becoming respectable to be a skin-diver. The Club felt the need to have a crest which would express man's involvement with the sea, and at the same time be distinctive, and if possible, come with a ready-made genealogy. I will not attempt to describe all the permutations of dolphins, seas, anchors and whatever, that members produced as crests.
The credit for nominating Glaucus must go to A. W. (Tony) Bishop. Tony had served the Club as chairman for a number of years. He had found our requirements in a french book by Latel & Revore (translated by E. Fitzgerald). The book called "Man and the Underwater World" had a frontispiece which was a 17th Century Dutch engraving of Glaucus. But this is not our man. Our Glaucus is back amongst the photo plates and is a photo of a statue from a town in Crete called Itonian. It provided all our requirements - Merman, built-in genealogy, and a beautiful design.
The first drawings were produced by an arty friend of Paddy Connors. He worked for Lawson Supply Company who contributed a cup for the club's confined spearfishing championship. The motto was subsequently translated into latin as "Animis in Undas". I was authorised to have a sample made up. The Light and Sign Supply Company, Lr. Stephens Street, made up the sample. I believe Theo Harris finished up owning it.
There are a number of Glaucus in the Panthenon of the gods, from the pre-classical period in the area. Each has his own tradition. The story of our Glaucus - with apology to Eamon Kelly - goes like this.
Many years ago when the world was young and times were not so hard, there was this fine figure of a fisherman who was known as a bit of a lad. Fishermen and farmers were men of some substance in those times. They had guaranteed prices for all their produce, and inflation was something you did to pig's bladders to play "kickabout". Things were very stable in the world, and all eyes turned towards the island kingdom of Crete and its capital Knosses. This young man, whose name was Glaucus was a bit of a boyo, and more than fond of a good time. He was not stranger to a night on the tiles, or a couple of skinfuls of the local brew. He had, it is said, a terrible drop when he let down a pint.
Well, the story goes, that Glaucus and the lads were having a mill at the local run. Things were going well, lots of the hard tack, and plenty of girls. Well, our lad had to answer a call of nature, what with all the liquid refreshments. Things in that department were not as well organised as they are now. Anyway on his way back through the yard, with no moon to light the way, your man fell right over into a barrel of honey. He drowned - lost in a world of sweetness.
Well when his friends missed him, or the landlord presented the bill, one or the other, a great hue and cry was set up. Now Glaucus's Da was a big farmer in the island. The rumour was that he was worth more than the king himself with sacks of drachmas hidded all over the place. He had the grass of 200 milch cows, and enough slaves to have them all milked and into the market at Knosses, before the sun broke over the Lion Gate. All attempts to find Glaucus came to nothing. His father decided that there was more to this than met the eye, magic or the like he supposed. So, not being short of a few bob, he announced a big reward to anyone who could solve where the son had got to. They came from all over, every type and sort of chancer, and flyboy you could imagine. But to no avail, there was not a trace of the lad. The parents were distraught and an absent wake was arranged. A great keening struck up through the island. Some of it was paid for, and some came from true feeling. He had been a great spender and the innkeepers mourned the loss of a good customer.
In the midst of all this, a wise man or a seer as they might have been known in those times landed on the pier and made his way to see the father. He had been drawn over from the mainland by the great promise of reward. Up he goes to the father and announced without a blush that he could find the missing son.
"Do that" said the Da, "and I'll double the reward". Off goes your man and in no time flat he finds the barrel. How, we don't know, so if you have a friend or relative who drowned in a barrel of honey then the story won't offer much in a way of advice. Well, this was no consolation to the mother and father.
They all gathered and the barrel was tipped out and there was your man with a sweet smile on his face. The grief of his parents was a sight to see. The father was in a weakness and the mother a faint. The women about tore out their hair, and scratched their faces, and spoiled their good looks. The men consoled each other with strong drink and black tobacco.
Well, the wise man had not come all that way on short rations to face such a wake. So wise man that he was he told the father that he could bring the son back to life. "Do this" said the father, "and I give you anything it is in my power to give". The wise man ordered a boat and set out into the middle of the bay and started fishing for seaweed. After much dredging he found the weed he wanted and set back in towards the shore. In those parts the tide doesn't change so he never got a foot wet as you couldn't tell the difference to the coming and going.
Up he went to the father and explained what he was about to do. He would put the weed into the lad's mouth and when the taste reached his tongue he would come alive. The seaweed had wonderous powers, but what the seer had not told the father was soon to be seen. A great multitude had gathered to see what the wise man would do. They all waited with their hearts in their mouths, and breaths in their fists. Not an eyelid dropped and you could have heard a match strike at a wall, so great was the silence.
I he next thing was that the seer opened the mouth, put in the sea weed and waited. The minutes ticked by. It was taking longer because of the honey you see. But the next minute up shot the lad, bright eyed and rosy cheeked with a shout of "God bless all here". He nearly killed them all with fright. His mother, poor woman, fainted away. Shivers ran down the spine of the assembled multitude like hail on a tin roof. There stood the lad as though nothing had happened. Something had happened and this is what the seer had not told the father. The lad announced in a loud clear voice "Fairwell, the sea calls me". The father was shocked. "Where would you be off when you have just come back" he said, "if you go again, you will break your mothers heart." "It cannot be helped" was the reply, "I have taken the seaweed cure and I must go". He leapt off the cliff and into the sea, where he lives to this day.
He has been reported in many parts of the world ever since. He has been observed south of the Puffin, at Yellow Wagtail time, I believe, and at Slaye and Slyne heads outside Culoo, west of Bofin and off St. John's Point. Sceptics have suggested that all these sightings and many more were made thro' the end of a glass or the wrong end of a bottle. But we know better. When you take the "Seaweed Cure" there is no road back. God bless you all.
