You're in for a treat if you've never rowed a curragh! A friend of mine's Dad had one and let me row it in Pwllgwaelod bay in Pembs when I worked on the island. I ended up going round in circles. I couldn't get the hang of it - it was so responsive to every slight dip of the oars! Riding high on the water, it would skim over the waves unlike a normal boat. The oars are long and narrow and took some getting used to. Eventually I managed to get some skill and pulled out to sea pretty well. I wrote a short story about Paddy and his curragh. Here's a part of it . . . .
Far off in the West, in a land where little trout streams feed the sea from green rocky creeks, Paddy rolled his curragh down the shingle. He slipped the boat off its rubber wheeled trailer, and pushed it afloat.
The watery gold rays of the sinking sun paved away across the the sea, away to the land of his fathers, but tonight Paddy was not homesick, for the endless waters surged in his blood and made him happy.
He trundled the wheels up the beach, gathered his net, jumped aboard, and pushed off. The black tarred boat leapt through the water, trailing a deep shadow behind it.
The curragh rode high in the water and seemed to skim on the surface, instead of ploughing through it as would an ordinary boat. His oars, so thin and tapered, dipped the water with an equal pull, for any difference would play havoc with the boats course, and because of its lightness, cause a spin which would be hard to control.
But Paddy was an expert. He sat, proud, feeling the sea move under him, and a thrill of the deep overcame him.
The tide was coming in and the fish would be near the rocks under the shelving cliff, in the deep pools.
He rowed to his usual spot, just out from the point and prepared his trawl net. . .