Manannan's Cloak

There's a tradition in the Isle of Man. When the Island needs to hide or keep a low profile, Manannan Mac Lir, the Celtic sea god, throws his cloak over it. He did just that on Friday morning. I was booked on the morning flight from Manchester to make a flying visit to see my aunt, my godmother, in hospital. My mother and one of my cousins were with me. They had managed to book on the early evening flight back, but I could only get a return seat on the late afternoon one. When we got to the Departure Lounge we realised just how uncertain our outward journey was. Cloud over the Island was preventing all flights from leaving or departing. Realising how tight time was going to be, I nearly relinquished my bookings. I had found out how to exit Departures if I couldn't leave on a plane, something you need to consider nowadays with airport security. I was quite philosophical, joking that I'd had a day out at the Airport. I would not have been quite so accepting if I had realised that my aunt had had the Last Rites the day before. I thought I was making an overdue hospital visit. Suddenly the departure time pulled back by 20 minutes. Given a fair wind and another cousin's car, I could just about make it to the hospital for a twenty minute visit. Thank goodness Ronaldsway Airport and Nobles Hospital are built on a human scale, taking minutes to negotiate. Going back to the Island and saying goodbye to my aunt was an intensely emotional experience. I was so glad I had been able to get there. Travelling to the Island aged three was my first trip on a plane. In my teens long haul flights were a way of life, and the memory of that island hop was a comfort when I felt nervous. I had two aunts and a great aunt and uncle on the Island. Their friends introduced me to folklore and local history in a way that has inspired and informed my interest and study of both subjects throughout my life.I had never experienced the immediacy of the past and of legend in that way before. There have been so many family holidays, through several generations,including trips to the TT in my motorcycling days. It's a magical and much loved place for me. Often we would travel by ferry from Liverpool's Pier Head, from that wonderful historic Embarkation Hall that no longer exists except in memory. Sometimes I travelled alone, for school holidays, choosing to stay on deck, curled up on a huge coil of rope with a good book. Friday's flying visit is one of the most significant, though the good news this morning is that my aunt has rallied over the weekend. I am prepared for other flying visits to the Island in the days and weeks to come. I hope Manannan is on my side.