Getting back to my Morehart roots

"Where did they come up with the name Dingle?" asks Manuel.
"Oh, its probably short for dingle-berry" replies Mike  and they both break out in shared laughter.

This type of silly banter is quite common between my two uncles.
Manuel and Mike both stand a little over 6 feet each, with strong broad shoulders and each with a slight twinkle in their eyes. Mike is the older brother, a little crusty looking from years at sea, deep soulful eyes, with a wild head of grey hair and a good amount on his chest poking up through his collar. Manuel only has a few greys, always in his jeans and flip flops, and has a rosy and tan face. You can tell they are brothers. They share the same nose, the same tan skin, same big hands and strong build. A build of men that have trekked and sailed and seen far corners of the world. They have worked using their hands, have spent many long hours in storms out at sea and coaxed their way out of trouble or caused some themselves. And they stand next to each other in the doorway of our hotel, looking out into the little street where its pouring down rain. They stand tall, but obviously relaxed. You can tell they are waiting for someone to walk by to talk too, to ask a question or just talk about the weather. They are comfortable standing there chatting. No need to rush anywhere, just enjoying the company of each other that they seldom get to share now-a-days. 

Mike lives in Argentina with his family and Manuel lives in part time in Ireland and southern California with his family. They share much more than just looks and humor as brothers. Though they lead very different lives, they both inherited the thirst to have incredible adventures.
Its actually really ridiculous the amount they can make you laugh when you spend just a few minutes around them. And I will be with them straight for 2 weeks. So I am thrilled to spend this valuable time with them and their families and getting a good dose of laughter and little adventures in between.


But they joking is well fed with a richly lived life. They both have stories of great adventures themselves. Manuel at the ripe age of 18 left home with a buddy and hitch  hiked around the world. Yeah, they made their way across the US by illegally jumping on a few trains to get to the east coast, and got a crew job on a ship over to Africa. where he got arrested and thrown into prison...and my grandparents didn't hear of him for 9 months. they thought he was dead. he was anything but. he was young and brave, completely broke, having his first grand adventure...of the world.

Mike has many great stories as well. And he has done his fair share of sailing and living around the globe. I call him my pirate uncle, for stories that cannot be disclosed publicly in this blog. He has called many places home including New Zealand and Tahiti, California and Colorado, and now he lives on his ranch with his family in Argentina. Even today we found ourselves reminiscing about stories when my family and I sailed with him to Easter Island. 12 days at sea, him and my dad got us there safe and sound, thru high seas and storms...then he turned around and sailed back. and then somewhere else again.
He is my pirate uncle.

Okay, I'm guna back track a little what has happened in the past few days, so bear with me.

So from Pembrokshire in Southern Wales, I took the 3 hour ferrier from Fishguard harbor over to Rosslare. From there I took the 6 hr bus ride to Cork, found a hotel room for the night, and left in the morning for another couple hour ride to Tralee to meet up with Mike and Manuels families. I was definitely happy to see some familiar faces, but we had another 2 hour drive to get to Dingle. But unlike the bus rides, the sky was a little clearer and the landscape was beautiful, looking out onto the sea and rolling green pastures.

We arrived happy to be in Dingle, our sister city to Santa Barbara.  It was actually my grandfather, James Bottoms, who started the idea of getting Dingle and Santa Barbara to be connected from being inspired by a trip he took years ago. In 1999 James took a side trip to Dingle when he was travelling Ireland. He had heard of Fungie, the dolphin that has lived in the bay since 1983. He took a boat ride out into the bay, and put on a wetty, and jumped right in, taking a very special swim with Fungie. My grandpa was so moved by this experience, he decided that doing a sculpture of Fungie to always be remembered by all who visit Dingle was a project he wanted to make happen. And so, a year later in 2000 the sculpture of Fungie was arrived and displayed in the Dingle Bay and the connection of the two sister cities was complete.
Thanks grandpa!

After two days of exploring the cute little harbor town of Dingle, we drove to Killarney for a night on the way back to Skull. Yesterday when arriving we explored the last standing oldest castle in Ireland, The Ross Castle, or stone tower as it was called back when it was made in 1400. It was sacked a couple times by Vikings and now is on display for tourists to walk around eating ice cream and take pictures next to the old stone walls. We decided that a boat ride around two of the giant lakes in front of the castle was a better option for us. The views were spectacular, and we got to see secluded ancient ruins of churches on islands where monks lived in 1500 and 1600. Turns out they also got sacked by Vikings too.

This morning in Killarney, my cousin Marco and I, went for a horse back ride throughout the national park along side the lakes. We rode a couple of sweet Clydesdales, or what they call an Irish draft horse and went for cantering through the pastures. Lots of fun riding a big horse like that! Next we head back to Manuel and Lisas house near Skull.

Pictures will come when I find a computer that I can transfer them onto.