Finding wonder, wildness, playfulness and old magic in the Atlantic.
I have never been a confident swimmer. Waves always made me uneasy. When the sea is still, I can sense its rhythm. It feels more predictable. Safer. I used to think waves got in the way of a smooth swim.
Little did I know I would fall in love with them one day.
Rest In Peace Currents?
Last week, we had a rare burst of sunshine in Ireland. I swam at Spanish Point in County Clare two days in a row—a rare feat for a Mediterranean woman like me in chilly Irish waters. But the weather was so warm, even the sea felt less icy than usual.
Locals warned me to stay between the flags where the lifeguard is. The currents there can be dangerous—sometimes life-threatening.
When I arrived, the tide was low. The wide sandy beach stretched out like a golden canvas. Mountain streams wove gentle braids into the sand. The sunlight glittered on the moving water like it was part of a living art installation. I just stood and watched, spellbound.
Then I noticed the signs: “RIP Currents.”
As someone whose first language isn’t English and who knows nothing about surfing, I thought it meant “Rest In Peace currents.” Lethal ones. I even smiled and thought, “Whoever put that up has a dark sense of humour.”
Little did I know rip currents are a real type of current which can pull you quickly and suddenly away from the beach and that is why they could be frightening and disorienting.
Playing Like Children
Later, I stepped into the water—between the flags, of course. There were plenty of people enjoying the sea.
At first, I stood still as the waves came at me. They slammed into me and it hurt. Quite painful.
Then I watched the children. They waited for the waves, and just as they rose, they launched themselves forward—letting the waves carry them. No pain. Just laughter and joy.
So I joined in. And soon, other adults joined me too. We were all playing, like children. I went to the beach alone, but I made friends in the water—thanks to the waves.
Wonder of Tides
By the next day, the tide had changed. The wide beach had vanished. In its place, a rocky shore.
I have lived in Ireland for over six years now. I know the tides change twice a day. But every time, I am still amazed by how different the same beach can look.
That second day, I felt like an experienced wave dancer. I had learned how to move with the water the previous day.
But this time the high-tide waves were cheeky. Some snuck up and caught me off guard. They knocked me down a few times. The dance was not as smooth as the day before. And still—it was so much fun.
It was as if the waves were teasing me:
“You think you have figured us out. But you haven’t.”
And they are right. The ocean has its own wild intelligence. I can’t predict it. I can only respect it. And be grateful when it lets me in.
A Myth Beneath the Cliffs
Later in the week, I visited the Cliffs of Moher. There, I stumbled across the story of Aileen’s Wave.
In Irish folklore, the Tuatha Dé Danann are the people of the divine goddess Danu.
When St. Patrick spread Christianity in Ireland, the Tuatha were furious. They vanished into the Underworld. Some of them hid deep within the land and caves of County Clare.
After many years in darkness, seven of them shape-shifted into white foals and galloped into the light. But having been away from the light for so long, they lost their sense of direction. They didn’t realise they were heading straight for the Cliffs of Moher. They galloped and galloped, leapt off the edge and passed into the Afterlife.
Beneath that place, some of Europe’s most powerful waves now break. They are called Aileen’s Waves. The name comes from the nearby headland Aill na Searrach, which means Leap of the Foals in Irish.
These waves rise when Atlantic swells hit a hidden reef, creating long, powerful breaks and trails of white foam. On the right day, they can reach 12 to 15 metres. They are wild, majestic, and deeply respected.
Legend has it that the white foals can still be seen within the waves, and that their spirit is what gives the water its strength and beauty.
Irish waves - Full of inspiration
In Ireland, waves are more than water. They carry stories, music and poetry.
So I will leave you with the words of Seamus Heaney, written for Flaggy Shore*—another stunning stretch of coastline in County Clare:
“When wind and light are working off each other
so that the ocean on one side is wild with foam and glitter.”
*I came across this verse on the memorial card of Eileen Quin, who was an artist deeply inspired by the Irish sea and land. May she rest in peace.
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I love the stories of the Tuatha de Dannan. So magical!
I have been swimming and playing with the waves right there with you, Senem. Loving it!