I WISH I could accuse The Irish Times, my wife, or some misleading work of reference, or even spread the blame, like Cassius, when he says:
The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, But in ourselves, that we are underlings.
But when I asserted last Tuesday that "a few days after Lindbergh, Alcock and Brown were to fly straight from Newfoundland to Connemara", it was a blunder entirely of my own. Quandoque bonus dormitat Homerus, as Horace says: "Even the good Homer sometimes nods."
Everybody knows, of course, that John Alcock and Arthur Whitten Brown left Newfoundland on June 14th, 1919, and landed on Derrygimla Bog near Clifden the following day. The offending piece, you may remember, had mentioned just before that "Commander Albert Read and five others had `hopped' from Newfoundland to Lisbon via the Azores as early as 1919".
And so they did - leaving Trepassey Harbour in Newfoundland on May 16th, and after a leisurely break in the Portuguese islands, carrying on to land in Lisbon on May 27th. I meant to say that it was a few days after this, 18 to be precise, that Alcock and Brown undertook their epic journey straight to Ireland.
Now to change the subject entirely, those of you with an interest on such matters may care to know that Dr Anthony Hollingsworth, late of this parish, will this evening deliver what is nicely called a "discourse in the Royal Irish Academy in Dublin on the subject of Seasonal and Inter Annual Prediction for a Chaotic Atmosphere.
Tony Hollingsworth, a Dubliner, began his working life as a meteorologist in Ireland, and after many adventures has become deputy director and head of research at the European Centre for Medium Range Weather Forecasts in Reading. This prestigious institution is the world leader in the preparation of weather forecasts for two to 10 days ahead, and in recent times has experimented with some limited success in techniques of "seasonal forecasting", the prediction of the general pattern of the weather over several months. The title of Dr Hollingsworth's apologia pro vita sua suggests that this evening he will tell us all about it.
I have to advise, however, that one cannot simply stroll up Dawson Street at five to eight on any Thursday evening and enter without let or hindrance the hallowed halls of the Royal Irish Academy: one has to be invited. But the good news is, I understand, that anyone who takes the trouble to telephone the academy beforehand at 016764222 may quickly have their name appended to the guest list.