Blog 021 – Roots and the Isle of Man

Why would I write about this little island in the Irish Sea? It’s not much more than a spec on a chart. But that little spec is where my great grandfather immigrated from. I was told the story when I was growing up and I decided at a very young age I would pay this place a visit someday. Someday finally came and here we were.

My mom’s grandfather Frank Quayle, son of Phillip and Catherine Quayle, grew up herding sheep and fishing on the Isle Of Man. Their farm was in an area called Ballamanaugh, located between Peel & Kirk Michael. Frank was one of ten children. Jobs were hard to find and he was adventurous. His uncle Joseph Killey (changed later to Kelley) had gone to America and was now a farmer in Lindenwood, Illinois. Uncle Joe agreed to pay Frank’s passage in return for seven years of help on the farm. So he crossed the ocean on the steamship, SS Laurentic. A few years passed and as a newly minted American citizen he found himself once again on a ship crossing the Atlantic. This time as a soldier in the U.S. Army. It was the beginning of World War I, back then they called it the Great War – the war to end all wars. Little did they know. He was part of the Expeditionary Forces COF 315 Ammunition Train. His job was running mules-drawn ammunition wagons to the front lines. He made a whopping $26.00 a month. While he was stationed in Europe, he was able to make one last visit back home to the Isle of Man.

After coming back from the war, times were tough but he did meet the love of his life, my great grandmother. They had two children. My grandmother who is still alive today at 93 years old, and a son that died just last year.

A side note about the SS Laurentic. Years after Frank came over on the steamship it was used as an armored supply ship during the war. In 1917 off the coast of Ireland, bound for the United States, she was sunk by two German mines. Three hundred and fifty-four of the more than seven hundred people reported aboard died and went down with the ship. She sank in a few hundred feet of water carrying gold bullion then worth five million British pounds. The money was for food, ammunition, and supplies from the United States to help the British continue fighting the war against Germany. Divers were dispatched immediately to recover the treasures in the Irish Sea. Fighting against time, storms and gale-force winds divers recovered all but twenty gold ingots. Gold valued at over ten million in todays currency is still laying on the floor of the Irish Sea. Anyone want to go diving?

But back to our story. Liana and I rode the Isle of Mann Ferry from Liverpool, England and arrived in Douglas at nearly midnight.
We stayed at a small boutique hotel close to the port in Douglas. The next day as we drove around the Island we stopped at the seaport of Ramsey. There we met a shopkeeper who gave us the key we needed to help track down my roots. This gentleman said there was a small Library of Records in Peel that kept family births, marriages and burials. The records go back to the 1700s but they are only open on Wednesday afternoons. We were in luck, this was Wednesday. We drove to Peel, parked our car and began looking for the building-no address, of course. It turns out the Quayle name was prominent there. Half the town carried that family name. As soon as the library was open we walked in, signed the guest book, and were led upstairs to a small room filled with musty record books and old micro fiche machines. (Who even remembers those?)

After a few phone calls back to the states for some more information from my mom we found part of what we were looking for. They even had a map of where my great-great grandfather and grandmother were buried, along with many other family members. We were hoping to find the family farm but ran out of time. So we headed to the village episcopal church in Kirk Michael. As we walked the rows looking for my ancestors headstones we were surprised to discover three lambs roaming free, keeping the grass trimmed and the weeds at bay. (Talk about eco-friendly – this was it.) It wasn’t long before we found the tombstone markers in the cemetery surrounding the church.

This island is one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen. Green hedges marking every field, little thatched roof homes made from stone, and small narrow roads circling the island going up and down over the hills. Many of the roads were canopied with centuries old trees that made tunnels through lush greenery. The island itself is covered in thick green grass and gentle hills with rock outcroppings. Roads leading to cliffs with sheer drops of hundreds of feet into the Irish Sea and fields populated with snow white sheep dotted the landscape.

Today the Isle of Man is most famous or infamous for the fastest, most dangerous motorcycle race in the world, The Isle of Man TT Race. The best of the best compete for the World Grand Prix Motorcycle Championship. There have been over two hundred and seventy deaths since the race began 1910. The race course is so dangerous even spectators have been killed. The motorcycles reach speeds of over 200 mph on narrow winding roads that normally posted speeds are 30-40mph. The entire island takes part in the races. Streets are shut down and thousands of spectators from all over the world vie for positions along the route to watch the race.

The Manx were also master ship builders. We were very surprised to find that this is the birthplace of one of the worlds most renowned sailing vessels – the Euterpe, better known as the Star of India, now located in San Diego. We had been aboard the Star of India several times when we lived there not knowing the origin. It’s a steel-clad three-masted schooner and is the oldest sailing vessel in the world still going to sea. She was built by Manx shipbuilders in the yard at Ramsey. The history on this vessel is quite interesting. On her first voyage she suffered a collision at sea and a mutiny of her crew. Later she was dismasted by a terrible cyclone that nearly sank her. The captain died on board and was buried at sea. After this, she went on to complete twenty-one circumnavigations under sail. The islanders here are rightfully proud of her legacy from such humble beginnings.

Somewhere in my veins flows the blood of these Manx seafarers. This must be where my wanderlust originated. I have always loved boats and one of my most memorable gifts was a three-masted wooden schooner I kept on a shelf in my room until the day I left for the Navy.