Apart from a single startled goat and some shell-shocked cattle, the darkening of the skies left the thousands of people gathered at the Puck Fair festival in Killorglin, Co Kerry, wholly unmoved.
That was probably because the second day of the festival saw the streets of the town overrun by herds of excitable cattle, many of whom seemed to take fright when the lights above them were dimmed.
The failure of the owners to corral the animals resulted in one of the town's central thoroughfares, Langford Street, becoming a no-go area as tourists and locals tried to avoid onrushing herds.
While the cattle fair is an intrinsic part of the festival, nobody had bargained on the animals providing more entertainment in the early part of the day than the blacking-out of the sky.
The festival organisers had to declare their own state of emergency and warned the crowds they entered Langford Street at their own risk. This emphasis on safety was no doubt to ensure that a incident from a previous Puck Fair, when a tourist slipped on a cowpat and injured himself, was not repeated.
As soon as the eclipse began, the clouds opened up and heavy rain started pouring down on the thousands below. This was excuse enough for people to crowd into public houses where many had only been a few short hours before.
As the eclipse took its course, a DJ with Radio Kerry was having a tricky time of it as the cattle gathered curiously around the window of his outside broadcasting unit, bought not long ago for several thousand pounds.
After several threatened to come through the window and play their own discs, local farmers, enjoying the man's discomfiture, eventually diverted them with a quick whip of their sticks. The mild panic caused by the rampaging cattle delayed the rest of the outdoor entertainment. Apologies were made for this during a second and more angry message on the public address system from the organisers, which said that local farmers had "ignored" their pleadings about keeping the streets clear for human traffic.
The most important individual in the town, King Puck, remained in his tiny box about 50 feet above the throng. As the heavens grew dimmer he seemed a little taken aback and made some urgent sounds.
However, when the sky brightened again he sat down and started sniffing at the heavy crown which had fallen off his head after Tuesday night's ceremony.
The organisers pointed out that he would be released back to the bountiful freedom of the Magillicuddy Reeks this evening and would no longer have to preside over the orgy of eating and drinking taking place below.