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You can recall the time of the ‘unapproved border crossing roads’? Large signs were erected, with the legend: ‘motor traffic between Northern Ireland and the Irish Free State is prohibited on this road’.
I don’t think I’d ever have gotten to know the lanes and byways so well but for that prohibition. It seemed like my patriotic duty to find out and cross each and every one. We did it for sheer defiance but others had the wisdom and enterprise to ferry disallowed goods across both ways for some economic benefit. Smuggling was the term applied by the authorities and none disagreed. Personal gain and patriotism became synonymous, much to the delight of participants.
At periods of ‘Troubles’ a new element was introduced. Armed sentinels to dodge! In the late 60s and early 70s we socialised in Dundalk at weekends and I shall never forget the first time, on our return, with drink taken, we were made to disembark to be searched and questioned by the young Tommies. My companion who was a bit of a wag approached a nervous young recruit wielding a rifle almost as long as himself.
'Here!' he asked the soldier. 'Is that a real gun?'
He was told it was.
'Is it loaded with real bullets?'
It was.
'Well, keep me covered!' said Brian.
'I'm going for a p**s!!'
With literally thousands of routes to guard from Carrickarnon to Derry City, the task was impossible. With bouts of hysterical Unionist outrage (widely published in the press) that terrorist invaders could so easily cross from the Irish Republic, ridiculous measures – the spiking, then the blowing up of, then the blocking of roads with massive concrete emplacements – were at times attempted. These were so easy to counter, farmers for example having filled in ‘blown-up’ roads as soon as the Army retreated, that a strong propaganda coup was handed to those who rebelled. It also allowed the latter to perform a useful service for the community and thereby gain mass approval.
We used to take the Upper Fathom Road to Omeath, and smile condescendingly at the long line of vehicles in the traffic jam below, held up by the huge Security Post at the Victoria Locks. We would have our day-out, our quota of cheap drink and cigarettes on our return via the same route, while hundreds of others observed the letter of the law and disavowed the ‘unapproved route’. Of course we also had a story to tell of how bravely we had defied the authorities.
There were penalties infrequently applied to those who were caught smuggling. £400 and the car seized! To keep oneself in the right, one had to have a passbook stamped on each crossing. A fee was charged if one was late back. Even more ridiculous, if for any reason a traveller was detained until the Customs Post was closed, he or she was expected to remain there until the Post opened in the morning! It was a very serious matter if the book was stamped out and not in again.
It was a great boon when this rule was lifted in 1972. The authorities by then had much more than tea, flour and bread, and Littlewoods Pools forms smuggling to worry about. On the other hand, those who wished to ‘strike a blow for Irish freedom’ and win universal approval from their own community had merely to burn down, or blow up at night, a deserted and unguarded wooden hut. While other ‘operations’ might still be a taboo topic for conversation, those who participated in this will openly boast of it.
Now that we can and do cross at will when and how we want, and with whatever goods we care to purchase, much of the fun (the ‘divilment’) has gone out of it.
I for one (and there are thousands) have not purchased motor fuel in the North for ten years, even though the price difference has become minimal.
It’s now the scenic journey along the Fathom Way, with its host of memories that is the main attraction. |
History 
