Remembering Mayo's Tatie Hokers ahead of 90th anniversary of tragedy

By Sean Molloy

The 90th anniversary of the Arranmore tragedy falls this coming Sunday, a date that will not pass unnoticed in Donegal, Mayo, and across Scotland, where the story of the islanders who never made it home still echoes after all these years.

On November 9, 1935, a yawl (sailing boat) carrying twenty islanders from Burtonport to Arranmore sank within sight of the shore.

They were returning from a season of hard work in the Scottish potato fields — a journey their families had made for generations.

Nineteen were drowned, and only one man, Paddy Gallagher, survived by clinging to an oar until help arrived. The victims included fathers and sons, brothers and neighbours.

Their loss devastated the island and left a mark on coastal communities across the northwest, especially in Achill, where many families were linked through work and marriage.

The Arranmore tragedy was one of three major disasters forever tied to the story of the tatie hokers — the men, women, and children who left the west of Ireland each year to gather potatoes in Scotland.

For more than a century, this mass seasonal migration shaped life on the Atlantic seaboard — from Arranmore in Donegal to Achill in Mayo and beyond.

Poverty, poor land, and limited work left families with few choices, and every summer boats and trains carried them across the sea in search of a wage.

Before the railway reached Achill in 1894, those travelling to Scotland would sail across Clew Bay to Westport Quay, where they boarded the steamer bound for Scotland.

It was a journey taken countless times without incident, but on 14 June 1894, tragedy struck when one of the boats overturned in a sudden squall.

Thirty-two islanders were drowned, most of them teenagers from across Achill Island, some no older than twelve. Their bodies were brought home on the first train ever to run on the newly completed Achill railway line.

That heartbreaking journey gave new life to an old prophecy by Brian Rua Ó Cearbháin, a 17th-century seer from the nearby barony of Erris in north Mayo.

He was remembered for a series of eerie predictions about the future of the region, the most famous of which warned that “the first and last train to Achill will carry coffins.”

It seemed only folklore — until tragedy struck again in 1937, when ten young Achill men died in the Kirkintilloch bothy fire in Scotland.

Their coffins too were carried home by train, on what proved to be the last ever to reach Achill.

Taken together, the disasters at Clew Bay (1894), Arranmore (1935), and Kirkintilloch (1937) reveal the harsh reality of migration from the west of Ireland — a world shaped by poverty, hard labour, and deep resilience.

The story of the tatie hokers is not only one of loss but also of endurance. The work was back-breaking. In the fields of Scotland, men and women dug from first light until late afternoon, stooped over the rows, their hands cracked and raw from the cold earth.

The bothies they lived in were rough — usually animal sheds or stables cleared for the summer, with little heat or comfort. Yet in the evenings, the workers found life and laughter again. There would be tea on the fire, songs, dancing, and stories that carried them through the season.

Though Achill and Arranmore lie nearly 300 kilometres apart, a four-hour journey by road today, the bonds between the two islands run deep.

Their people were united by this shared experience of migration — and by the friendships, marriages, and cultural ties that grew out of it.

In the bothies of Scotland, islanders from Mayo, Donegal, and the western parishes met at ceilís and social gatherings that helped pass the long evenings after work.

Many of those encounters led to marriages, with couples later settling either in Scotland or returning home to Achill or Arranmore.

One such union left a lasting mark on Irish music. Huey Connaghan from Arranmore married Mary Carr from Achill, and when he came to live on the island in the 1940s, he brought his bagpipes with him.

Huey began teaching local men to play, and from that came Achill’s first village pipe bands — a tradition that remains one of the island’s proudest today.

Those connections are still visible today. One of the most striking examples came during the build-up to the 2012 All-Ireland Football Final between Mayo and Donegal.

In the Achill villages of Dooagh and Pollagh, almost a third of the houses were proudly flying the flags of both counties — a colourful display that reflected the deep family ties between the two places.

As a tribute to those enduring links, The Achill Lads chose to weave the bagpipes into their recording of The Tatie Hokers, a musical reminder of how Achill and Arranmore, though separated by sea and distance, remain bound by heritage, music, and memory.

Among those who lived the life of the tatie hokers was Michael O’Donnell from Achill. In many ways, he was a product of that tradition himself — his father was from Donegal and his mother from Achill, and the two had met while working in Scotland during the potato harvest.

Michael followed in their footsteps, travelling to Scotland in 1959, when the old migration was fading but still a lifeline for many families in the west.

By then, conditions had improved a little, thanks to campaigners who had pushed for better pay and living standards. But it was still hard, honest work — the kind that built homes, bought cattle, and kept food on the table through the long winter months.

Years later, O’Donnell wrote The Tatie Hokers, a haunting ballad that captured the rhythm of that life: the journey to Scotland, the digging, the hardship, and the quiet dignity of the people who went.

It was not a song of pity, but of remembrance — a story carried in melody and truth.

Now, that song has been revived for a new generation.

The Achill Lads, Michael Lavelle and Cian McNamara, have released a powerful new version that weaves the past into the present.

The pipes, echoing that connection between Achill and Arranmore, flow through the song, linking the two islands once again.

In the video version, the names of those lost in the three great tragedies — Clew Bay (1894), Arranmore (1935) and Kirkintilloch (1937) — appear on screen as the sound of the pipes rises in the background. It’s a powerful moment — a reminder that music, memory, and grief are never far apart in the west of Ireland.

The new version also honours the memory of those who stood up for the workers.

Both Peadar O’Donnell and Michael McHugh are mentioned in the lyrics for their efforts on behalf of migrant labourers. O’Donnell, from Donegal, was one of Ireland’s best-known socialist writers, while McHugh, a journalist and campaigner, helped draw attention to the poor wages and terrible conditions faced by workers in Scotland.

Their advocacy, and the public outrage after the Kirkintilloch fire, led to better housing, inspections, and safer travel for later generations.

By the 1950s, the worst of the bothy days were over. Inspections were carried out, wages rose slightly, and transport improved.

But the memory of those long, hard seasons stayed with the people of the west. The money earned in Scotland paid school fees, bought livestock, built houses, and helped families survive the winters.

“The Tatie Hokers” stands today as both a lament and a tribute — a reminder of the endurance, humour, and quiet pride that carried the people of Achill, Arranmore, and the wider west through the toughest of times.

As the 90th anniversary of the Arranmore tragedy is remembered this weekend, The Tatie Hokers gives voice to those who once bent their backs in the Scottish fields — and to the generations who still carry their story in song, history, and quiet remembrance.

*The Tatie Hokers by The Achill Lads is now streaming on all platforms.