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Returning from the Regatta: Skerries

Recovered from my sugar crash at Rush and Lusk, the Dart chugged along to my next destination: Skerries. Opened along the Dublin and Drogheda Railway route in 1844 and built in 1852, my arrival wasn’t exactly the wedding feast at Cana. Resembling a recession-hit local shop, the grey shutters told me the station building was not open for business despite it being 2.30pm on a Monday.

Dismayed, I strolled along the platform to snap the signal cabin – we all know the GNR standard at this point – which still retains its solitary position and exposed brick-base (albeit painted a lurid shade of 1990s magnolia). Its wonky name-plate was beginning to feel like a metaphor for the station.

Opposite stands a graffitied goods shed, its sliding door missing and the arch-entry blocked up. It is an interesting example which strays from the GNR standard ocular pediments and polychromatic yellow accents. With a diamond-cut pediment and protruding castellated ends, it more resembles a Game of Thrones horror chamber than a functional railway shed. Siding tracks and a seemingly modern buffer are still in situ. 

Returning to the platform elevation of the station building, the cottagesque diamond mullioned lancet windows echo that of the train shed, and may explain the latter’s design in that it may have been built by the GNR’s predecessor. The lancets are a deceptive hint of cosiness dispelled by their surrounding brutality – the iron bars to the adjoining window don’t exactly inspire a welcome reception, meanwhile the lacerated wooden canopy fascia looks like a bad haircut.

Evidence of GNR intervention appears on the cast iron roof support brackets which sit somewhat clumsily out of kilter with the external end of the station building and extend beyond to an unusual feature now blocked off and leading to a terrifying abyss. Perhaps I’m in need of a cup of tea.

Skerries had the incredibly unusual feature of an under-track subway instead of an over-track footbridge. One dreads to think what now lurks beneath. Turning to my left I am finally reassured by the yellow accents of a GNR brick-archway which extends to support the roof and indicates the subway was constructed at the same time.

Exiting through the arch I am greeted by the true T-shape plan of the original station with the intriguing addition of a curved wall to its southern end; an ugly later flat-roof extension offends the eye to the north. The front entrance is rather neat with moulded quoins and an extended pediment. This would probably have been a more fitting welcome to the experience of rail travel. If only the thing was open.

Perpendicular to the station is the GNR station master’s house. It is an earlier incarnation of the formulaic brick design, completed in grey render and retaining its original character and central arched window above its entrance. I suspect the porch is a later addition as designs for station master’s houses, and indeed all other existing examples of them, give a central front door with a trellis-portico. The GNR stamp sits in a string of yellow bricks atop the two chimney stacks.

Photographs taken by Ciaran Cooney show a rather more pleasant Skerries, with hanging baskets, flower pots and original GNR iron-signage. Even the subway was open and not nearly as ominous.
Skerries Station. Source: Ciaran Cooney
Archiseek also has photographs of happier times, the station painted an off-white, the roof ironwork a dark green, with floral embellishments. Archiseek also states the render for the station master’s house has been applied over the original brick, but the drawings for the earliest houses show they were rendered with the brick designs appearing later in 1890s and 1900s. Buildings of Ireland even dates it to 1850 which means it was erected before the GNR and before the station. My palm moves away from my face as I read the station interior was remodelled in the 1970s but retains some original doors. 
Skerries Station. Source: Archiseek
An engraving by John Edward Jones from 1844 shows an early steam train for the DDR chugging through Skerries, cutting through its rural coastal landscape. A bridge to the left of the picture and heading northwards is that of the architect Maurice H. Wilkinson whose original drawing is held by Archiseek (which dates it incorrectly to the 1860s). The curved embankments lift the railway line over what is now Barnageeragh Road and the bridge is still in use. The central tree obscures what would be the location of the station suggesting it is not built or not suitable for such a picturesque scene.
Skerries. Dublin and Drogheda Railway by J. E. Jones, 1844. Source: NLI.ie
In desperate need of nourishment I trek into Skerries village for a hearty sandwich and a pot of tea, cursing the building of stations so far outside their destinations as I go. Returning to my desk, kettle within reach, a cartoon of skirmishes at Skerries following a day of a regatta humorously summarises my own experience. “Reeking blasphemy and obscene and filthy language” manifest for me in the sad demise of the station’s buildings, whilst the cartoon shows a wooden waiting shelter skin to that at Malahide and others which is obviously no more.

Unfortunately for the station at Skerries, it would take more than a regatta to herald my return.

Returning from the Regatta. Source: Dublin City Archive

Sources
Archiseek archiseek.com
Buildings of Ireland buildingsofireland.ie
Cooney, C., Eiretrains eiretrains.com
Dublin City Archive dublincity.ie
GeoHive Maps map.geohive.ie
National Library of Ireland nli.ie
Twitter followers: Rail Users Ireland (@RailUsersIre) National Inventory of Architectural Heritage (@NIAH_Ireland) Michael Toomey (@mdtoomey) Mixed Messages (@SignsTheReading)

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