On Sunday, July 16th, we went sailing from the Dock Marina in Kinsale with our friends Richard and Hilary Hale. It was a typical Hale outing - sails up as soon as possible, a look at the bird life of the Sovereign Islands, a glimpse of dolphins alongside, then into Oysterhaven to drop anchor for a long lunch, listening intermittently to cricket on the radio. On the way back we drifted with the mackerel lines down until we had caught enough for supper. It was just like day trips I had taken 20 years before on a much smaller yacht with Richard and Hilary.
But this time there were two important differences: the Hales' 18-year-old son, Liam, came along, and we talked about his brother, Ben (15), who was up in Dublin at the Centre for Talented Youth in Ireland. The second difference was that Richard was not feeling well - to the point where, instead of taking the helm, he preferred to lie down below. It was not difficult to convince him to see his doctor, but none of us suspected that the illness would be terminal. Richard Hale, aged 53, was buried in Ringcurran Churchyard on November 9th, following a service that filled St Multose Church.
Richard was never a man to talk about himself, and he preferred to keep the news of his illness quiet. He came home for a respite, during which the Oncology Department at Cork University Hospital discovered that there was no more they could do for him. He was cared for by his wife Hilary and his sons, with the support of the team from the Marymount Hospice, public health nurses, and their many friends. Richard's noble efforts to entertain his visitors, in spite of his rapidly increasing weakness, and his courage and concern for others in face of the inevitable were an inspiration to all who were privileged to see him in those last days.
Richard and Hilary were an unusually close couple, in spite, or perhaps because of, radically different temperaments. Where Hilary is calm, good-natured and obviously warm-hearted, Richard maintained a gruff, off-hand manner. But you did not need to know him for long to realise that he was one of the most loyal and helpful friends you would ever find, with a wonderfully dry sense of humour. He was exceptionally generous with his expertise: whether it was your car, your computer or your boiler that was blowing up, you knew that Richard would be there to help, and to explain patiently what had gone wrong. Richard was by profession an engineer. He was born in Leicester, the only son of Beryl and Geoff. He met Hilary while they were still at school, through the local sailing club. After graduating from Imperial College, London, he worked as a consulting engineer in Birmingham and Southampton.
Richard and Hilary discovered Ireland in the mid-1970s, and moved to Summercove in 1979. Hilary worked to support them while Richard set about restoring the old schoolhouse which is now the family home. Eventually Richard was invited to lecture at the then Regional Technical College in Bishopstown, Cork. He was, it turned out, a born teacher, as generations of Cork Institute of Technology engineering students will testify.
He and Hilary quickly became part of the local community. Richard organised the badminton club and coached younger members. Both Liam and Ben inherited his love of cricket, playing for the Kinsale Cricket Club from an early age. When Hilary trained as a swimming teacher, Richard was an active helper. When she took up wood-turning, he became an expert with the chain-saw.
Meanwhile, Richard built a parallel career as a consultant engineer and expert witness, specialising in accident investigation, with Hilary handling the administration from their home office. He will be sadly missed in the courts - a part of his life which, as a solicitor's son, he particularly relished. While we mourn a rare friend and a respected colleague, gone before his time, our thoughts are with Hilary, Liam and Ben, and Beryl and Geoff who have lost a husband, a father and a son.
Little think'st thou, That thou tomorrow, ere that Sunne doth wake, Must with this Sunne, and mee a journey take. (John Donne).