The Missing Book
Created | Updated Sep 7, 2006
Scene: A monastery in the centre of Ireland, circa 900 AD. Brother Ruairi Mac Ruairc enters the Great Hall. There in front of him stands the Abbot, Cormac Mac Dubhlagain. The Abbot is in a good mood. Brother Ruairi is less jovial.
Abbot: So, Ruairi! What did you think, eh?
Brother: Think about what, my Abbot?
Abbot: The book, you fool! What did you think?!
Brother: Ah, er, very nice. Em, Abbot, I'd better...
Abbot: Nice? Nice? It's a wonder! A wonder of our age! For two years we have been toiling over that book! Three brothers, working in shifts, morning, noon and night, forsaking food, drink and needs of the flesh, to write up the great psalms of God!
Brother: Yes, but..
Abbot: And think of Brother Columbanus! He's still not right after falling from the table in the middle of the night after transcribing Psalm 83! But it's all finished now! His suffering was not in vain!
Brother: I know, my Abbot, however..
Abbot: We sold our best bulls and killed 16 pigs to make the vellum for that book, my boy! We're destitute now, but at least we have the book, eh?
Brother: I don't know how to say this, my Abbot but...
Abbot: It's a wonder alright, the best writing in the land. So, what is it that's on your mind, my boy?
Brother: Well, I was taking it for a test walk, singing away to myself to make sure we got all the letters in the right place, when I tripped.
Abbot: You tripped? What do you mean?
Brother: I stubbed my foot on a stone, and I fell down.
Abbot: And the book? What happened to the book?
Brother: Er, it kind of fell down too.
Abbot: Oh heavens! Oh mercy! Is it damaged?
Brother: Well, I don't think so.
Abbot: That's good - now where is it?
Brother: I'm not quite sure.
Abbot: Huh?
Brother: It was dark.
Abbot: Well if it was dark, what the hell were you doing outside, reading the bloody book in the first place?
Brother: I was trying to memorise the words by heart, and the sun sort of went down without me noticing. Anyway, I heard a splash.
Abbot: A... a splash?
Brother: Yes. I think it fell into a bog hole.
Abbot: But the whole countryside out there is a bog! One big godforsaken bog-hole! Our monastery was specially located here to keep the Vikings away from us! How in God's name are we going to find it now? You cretin!
Brother: We don't, by any chance, have any more bulls that we can sell?
Abbot: Out you go now you idiot! Get your clothes off, dive into the bog and find it! I don't care how long it takes, but you'd better come back with it in your hands. Or else we'll use your skin to write up the next book!
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And that, in a nutshell, is how the sport of bog snorkelling came into being...
