.png)
Cork City, sure, it's a place that's always had a grand old relationship with the water, you only have to look at a map to see it. The whole city is built on what was once a marsh, a soggy bit of land with the River Lee splitting in two, like a fork in the road before wrapping around the city centre.
This geography gave Cork one of the biggest natural harbours in the whole world, a real jewel. For centuries, ships came and went, bringing goods and stories from far-flung places. The people of Cork got used to the tides. The river's gentle rise and fall was just part of the daily rhythm of life, as normal as the sun coming up. The city's motto itself is Statio Ben Fida Carinus, which is a fancy Latin way of saying a safe harbour for ships. And for the most part, it always was.
The merchants built their fine houses and warehouses right up along the quays, trusting the river to behave itself. They knew about floods, of course. A bit of heavy rain upped the country and the Lee could get a bit swollen, spilling over its banks for an afternoon. But this was a familiar dance, a manageable bit of bother. No one in their right mind, not a soul in cork, would have ever imagined a threat coming from the vast, open Atlantic Ocean itself.
.jpg)
The layout of the city in the mid-18th century was even more intimate with the water than it is today. Many of the main streets we walk down now were once wide-open channels, with boats and small lighters pulling their way right up to the shop doors. Streets like St. Patrick's Street and the Grand Parade were canals, bustling with water traffic. It was a kind of Irish Venice in its own way. This closeness to the water was the city's strength, the very source of its wealth and connection to the wider world.
But on one particular day, this unique layout would become its greatest weakness, turning the familiar waterways into channels of destruction. Life in Cork in 1755 was going on as it always did. The city was a busy hub of the British Empire, trading in butter, beef, and textiles.
The Keys were a hive of activity, with sailors shouting in different languages in barrels being rolled on and off the ships. People went about their business, worrying about the price of goods, the weather for the week ahead, and the usual local gossip. The thought of a monstrous wave, born from a disaster hundreds of miles away, was the stuff of fantasy. It simply wasn't part of their world, a possibility too remote and strange to even consider as they went to bed on the night of Halloween.
.jpg)
The story of Cork's tsunami begins far away, off the coast of Portugal. On the morning of November 1st, 1755, a massive earthquake struck beneath the Atlantic Ocean. It was All Saints Day, a major religious holiday, and the churches in the grand city of Lisbon were packed with worshippers.
The ground shook so violently that it levelled much of the city in minutes. Fires broke out, and what the earthquake and fires didn't destroy, the sea came to claim. This event is now famously known as the Great Lisbon Earthquake, one of the most devastating natural disasters in European history.
So how did an earthquake in Portugal send a giant wave all the way to Ireland? Well, you have to picture the floor of the ocean. When a powerful earthquake happens under the sea, it can push a huge section of the seabed upwards, sometimes by several meters. This sudden movement shoves an immense volume of water above it, creating a series of powerful waves or a tsunami. These waves aren't like the normal ones you see at the beach. They are much faster and have a much longer wavelength.
They travel across the deep ocean at incredible speeds, like a jet plane, losing very little energy along the way. For the people of Cork, life went on as normal that morning, completely unaware of the catastrophe unfolding to the south. The news wouldn't have travelled for weeks in those days.
The energy from the Lisbon earthquake, however, travelled much faster. The tsunami waves radiated outwards from the epicentre, a silent, powerful pulse moving across the vast expanse of the Atlantic. One of these waves, a ripple from the immense destruction in Portugal, set its course directly for the southern coast of Ireland. It was on a collision course with the unsuspecting towns and harbours dotted along the coastline. It took a few hours for the wave to cross the distance.
As it approached the shallower waters of the Celtic Sea and the Irish coast, the physics of the wave began to change. In the deep ocean, it might have been barely noticeable, a long, low swell, but as the seafloor rose towards the land, the energy of the wave was compressed.
It slowed down, but in doing so, it grew dramatically in height. This invisible force, born of tectonic violence hundreds of miles away, was now transforming into a visible and terrifying wall of water aimed right at the mouth of Cork Harbour.
Sometime between two and three o'clock in the afternoon, the strangeness began. People along the quays in Cork first noticed the tide behaving in a bizarre way. The water in the River Lee suddenly and rapidly drained away, as if a giant plug had been pulled. The riverbed, usually hidden beneath the murky water, was exposed. Boats that had been floating peacefully were left stranded on the mud, tilting over on their sides.
This is a classic sign of an approaching tsunami, where the trough of the wave arrives before the crest, sucking the water out to sea. But for the onlookers it was just a baffling and eerie spectacle. This strange calm didn't last long at all. The water that had vanished then returned with incredible force. A wave, described in some accounts as being several feet high, surged up the river channels.
It wasn't a crashing, curling wave like you'd see on a surf beach but more like a rapid and powerful rise in the sea level, a sudden and violent flood. This wall of water funnelled into the narrow harbour and then into the even narrower channels that served as the city's main streets. The water swept over the low quay sides and poured into the ground floors of the houses and warehouses that lined the river. The impact was immediate and chaotic. The water smashed through doors and windows, flooding homes and businesses.
Barrels of goods, timber, and all sorts of debris were washed into the streets, turning the waterways into a swirling mess of wreckage. People were caught completely by surprise. They scrambled to get to higher ground trying to save their families and whatever possessions they could grab.
Reports from the time tell of the water rising so high it damaged the lower parts of the exchange building and flooded the cellars of an area known as the Red Abbey, causing a great deal of damage to stored goods. The chaos was not just from the first wave, the sea continued to act strangely for hours. Accounts from the time, like those published in the Cork Journal, describe the water ebbing and flowing violently multiple times.
The river would rise suddenly, flood the streets and then retreat just as quickly, only to surge back again a short while later. This cycle of flooding and draining happened several times, each one bringing fresh panic and destruction. For the people of Cork it must have felt like the world had turned upside down, with the familiar life-giving river turning into an unpredictable and terrifying monster.
In the immediate aftermath, the people of Cork were left to pick up the pieces. Thankfully, while the damage to property was significant, there are no official records of anyone having lost their life, which is a small miracle. The main cost was economic. The flooding ruined vast quantities of goods stored in the cellars and warehouses along the quays. Sugar, salt, and flour were all destroyed by the saltwater. Houses were damaged and the foundations of some buildings were weakened.
.jpg)
It took a long time for the city to clean up the mess and for trade to get back to normal. The event, while terrifying, soon began to fade from public memory. In the 18th century, news was a local affair, and without the scientific understanding we have today, the flood was likely seen as a freak event, a great tide, or a strange act of God. It wasn't widely connected to the earthquake in Lisbon until much later. As court grew and developed,
The old waterways were filled in and paved over to create the grand streets we know today. This architectural change, while helping with sanitation and traffic, also erased the physical reminder of how vulnerable the city centre once was to the water. However, the story of the 1755 tsunami serves as a crucial historical and geological reminder for Ireland.
For a long time, it was thought that Ireland was safe from such events. The Lisbon tsunami proves that this is not the case. While the risk is low compared to places on the Pacific Ring of Fire, it is not zero. Geologists and historians have since uncovered evidence of this tsunami hitting other parts of the coast from Clare to Wexford. It has forced us to re-evaluate our island's vulnerability to natural disasters originating far from our own shores, a lesson written in the flooded streets of 18th century Cork.
Today, as we walk through the bustling centre of Cork, it's hard to imagine those same streets filled with seawater and debris. But the history is there, buried beneath the pavement. The Forgotten Flood of 1755 is more than just a quirky historical anecdote, it's a story about the immense power of nature and the importance of understanding our past.
It reminds us that even in a place as seemingly safe and secure as Ireland, history holds important lessons about the land and the sea, and that the ground beneath our feet and the waters around our island are more dynamic than we might think.
Discover the untold story of Ireland’s Lost Tsunami in our latest video, "Cork's Forgotten Flood." This captivating journey takes you back to the day when the coastal city of Cork faced an unexpected deluge, reshaping its landscape and history forever. With stunning stock footage and compelling narration, we unveil the events surrounding this little-known natural disaster and its impact on the local community.
Join us as we explore the science behind tsunamis, the aftermath of the flooding, and how Cork rebuilt from the depths of despair. Don't forget to like and share this video to spread awareness about this historical event!
Comments