Zoe Devlin reflects on the calming influence of our rivers and other watercourses and how we are falling short in keeping them healthy for future generations
When I was a chiseller, growing up in County Dublin, every summer – usually on Sundays – my Dad would pack us into his car and take us to a lovely spot near Laragh, County Wicklow, known as Bookey’s Bridge. We’d be joined by aunts, uncles and cousins and enjoy great times, paddling in the sandy shallows of a softly-flowing river, enjoying picnics of hard-boiled eggs and umpteen sandwiches and sleeping all the way home. The river we played in was just one of that county’s typical watercourses with clear amber-coloured water that bubbled and curved through numerous valleys on their way to the coast. We often drank the water and lived to tell the tale. I wonder if it is still safe to drink.
Laragh & Glendalough
I suppose water is something that we take for granted, after all it has a habit of falling from the sky, quite frequently in this country, but without it there would be no life on earth, let alone in Ireland. Beginning high in our hillsides, little streams form, providing habitat for fish, frogs and birds and then, gathering more moisture from their banks, they meander on to join other small watercourses, eventually becoming rivers. Over millennia, they have carved their way through the landscape, wandering across plains, tumbling down as waterfalls and then possibly forming unions with other large rivers – such as the three sister rivers, the Barrow, Nore and Suir – before making their way towards the coast, serving the needs of wildfowl across estuaries and rivermouths.
Since the arrival of man on this island, some nine thousand years ago, Irish rivers have provided him and his family with fish, with water for cooking, irrigating crops, washing and with a means of navigation. Settlements tended to be formed close to rivers in order to use them for the disposal of waste matter something that is still happening, contaminating and polluting rivers and their larger cousins – lakes – all over the world in a modern, and supposedly more enlightened world.
Avoca River, Co Wicklow
Among our rivers, those suffering most from pollution include our capital’s River Liffey. Remembered in a song – ‘Summer in Dublin’ by Bagatelle – and the words ‘and the Liffey as it stank like hell’, the river is prone to the effects of leaky sewers and industrial discharge. County Wicklow’s Avoca River is still vulnerable to sulphur and copper drainage from the long abandoned mines. The Maigue, in County Limerick, has been recorded as having unsatisfactory nitrate levels and the water in the Boyne in County Louth has been affected negatively with run-off from farms. County Kilkenny’s River Nore, tidal to the village of Inistioge, is not in great shape either, due mainly to intensive farming and wastewater.
A few months ago, Lough Neagh, which is the largest lake on these islands, was in the news for all the wrong reasons. Lough Neagh supplies Northern Ireland with 40% of its drinking water but for some years, phosphorus and nitrogen have been draining into the lake. This year, algal blooms appeared two weeks earlier than last year. This blue-green algae – AKA cyanobacteria – thrives as a result of phosphorus arising from agriculture. In July, an action plan was announced with a commitment to return the lough to a healthier state than at present. The plan involved a restriction on the use of chemical fertilisers, the introduction of a range of farming supports, real-time water quality monitoring and a pilot programme for tree planting around the banks in an attempt to curb contamination. It sounded like a good plan – I can only hope it will work.
Lough Corrib
The second largest lake on our island is Lough Corrib, a place that spoke to me of quiet, gentle beauty when I visited it a decade ago, but now, across 92 hectares of the lake, a massive problem is happening. This is caused by an invasive species known as curly waterweed, a greeny-yellow plant that came to our waterways from South Africa. A perennial, it causes damage by covering the surface of the water, blocking sunlight and displacing native species. It also interferes with the health of native fish. Unfortunately, it has escaped from garden ponds and is causing huge problems to a lake renowned for its beauty. Another unwelcome species in Lough Corrib is the zebra mussel, a native to the Caspian and Black Sea region, thought to have entered our waterways through the Shannon estuary. Stripy creatures, theses mussels measure just 3-4cm in length and attach themselves to hard surfaces such as boats. They have caused the decline of our native mussels by colonising their shells and habitat and because the female zebra mussels can release up to one million eggs a year, they pose an alarming threat.
Recently, there have been several announcements regarding plans for remedying the health of our waterways, mostly concentrated on the effects from agriculture. ‘Farming for Water’, launched this March, is an initiative that could involve up to 15,000 farmers who, it is expected, could each be supported to the tune of €10,000. This plan focused on reversing the negative effects caused by too many nutrients entering our waters causing an overgrowth of algae and plants which, as in Lough Neagh, choke up our watercourses, use up oxygen and harm other aquatic life.
This June, the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) published ‘Water Quality in 2023: An Indicators Report.’ The report provided an update on the quality of Ireland’s rivers, lakes, estuaries, coastal and groundwaters using data collected in 2023. It stated that the main issue that impacts on the quality of our waters and their biological health is increased concentrations of phosphorus and nitrogen. Human activities, such as agriculture, waste water (domestic and urban) and forestry, were noted as the primary cause of the deterioration.
And this September, Minister of State for Nature, Heritage and Electoral Reform, Malcolm Noonan launched another roadmap to restoring Ireland’s waterways to ‘good’ status or better with the ‘Water Action Plan 2024’. Two of the measures he spoke of were tighter controls on use of fertilisers along with a greater compliance and enforcement. At the launch, Minister Noonan said ‘It’s well past time to clean up our rivers, lakes and coasts, and that’s what we’re doing with this new Water Action Plan. There are three core aims: to prevent and reduce water pollution, to let more rivers run free and restore their natural ecosystem functions, and to continue the positive trajectory of investment in water infrastructure.’
Another bit of good news came in the launch of the ‘River Barriers Mitigation’ programme that involves the removal or modification of anything that might prevent fish from migrating up-river, such as culverts, waterfalls or weirs. Debris blockages and bridges can also impact on the natural flow of rivers causing problems to other wildlife.
I am a Dubliner and I am more than happy to drink the the water from the tap in my kitchen. It comes to me from the Vartry Reservoir in Roundwood, County Wicklow via a smaller reservoir in Stillorgan. The Vartry Reservoir is a place I know well, a peaceful body of water beside which I have walked for several decades, taking in the natural aspects of the watercourse, watching out for little grebes and their fancy cousins, great crested grebes and those snow-white beauties, the little egrets, who make their nests in the tall pine trees bordering the reservoir. Originally constructed in the 1860s, it was given a much needed facelift in 2021 with a brand new water treatment plant, guaranteeing the delivery of clean drinking water to over 200,000 people in the south Dublin area and north Wicklow.
Vartry Reservoir near Roundwood, Co. Wicklow, Ireland
One of my own favourite lakes is Lough Bunny (Loch Buinne – lake of the flood) a type of lake that is extremely rare across the EU. It is in a karstic limestone area in the eastern side of the Burren in County Clare and, unusually for a lake, it is not fed by rivers but through springs. The shoreline slopes gradually into the lake on large limestone slabs, reaching a depth of 14 metres with an overall average of about 2 metres. Because the lake is in an area where human activities are limited, it is low in the factors that cause the inflow of nutrients and its water is therefore of excellent quality, crystal clear and sparkling. Bathing is quite a popular activity and the lovely lake is fringed by the type of vegetation for which the Burren is renowned, the stunning white dropwort, the gently nodding harebell and tall, spindle shrubs with their tiny creamy flowers and shocking-pink berries. Lough Bunny also supports other swimmers – perch, rudd, 3-spined stickleback, pike and the European eel. With a backdrop of Mullaghmore, Lough Bunny is a peaceful place to spend a while, even if you just sit gazing across it into the distant limestone hills, brain in neutral, totally chilled – it is to be recommended highly.
Rivers and riverbanks are home to many wildlife species, be they fish, birds, invertebrates, insects, mammals or wildflowers. Beside a river or lake there is the opportunity to be in a habitat that supports birdlife and the chance of seeing a kingfisher or grey heron fishing for its supper. Maybe it is the dance of dragonflies as they dart their way across the surface, or the wildflowers that grow with their own feet in the water or on its banks, flag irises and bogbean or white water-lilies on a lake, giving a sheltered environment to aquatic creatures beneath their kidney-shaped leaves. There is such serendipidity in catching a glimpse of that avian master of its environment, the dipper, scuttling its way along a stream, immersing itself at times below the surface. Clear, unpolluted water supports larger wildlife too – otters, Atlantic salmon, the native white-clawed crayfish and fish species such as arctic char, eel and brown trout.
I know that health professionals are telling us something that I reckon many of us know already, that being among nature, be it woodland, hillsides or along riverbanks is good for us. The calming effect of gazing into a river, the continuous bubbling, ever-changing pattern is like a visual mantra to me – no wonder we loved paddling in them as children.
Perhaps the last word on rivers should come from Ratty when, in ‘The Wind in the Willows’, he said ‘The River is brother and sister to me, and aunts, and company, and food and drink, and (naturally) washing. It’s my world, and I don’t want any other.’
