Gobnait and Aoibhinn are 'throwbacks to an Ireland of old'

Our new navy ships should have names that celebrate modern female changemakers, says Simon Tierney 

Tánaiste and Minister for Defence, Micheál Martin welcomed the delivery of two Inshore Patrol Vessels (IPVs) to the Naval Service at Haulbowline Naval Base - the Gobnait and the Aoibhinn

Recently, the Tánaiste, under his powers as Minister for Defence, announced the names of our two new Irish Navy vessels. 

With the recent move towards a more modern naming convention over the past decade, and a promise from his predecessor in Defence to name one of them after an Irish woman, I was intrigued to see what he would come up with. 

What materialised was a disappointing throwback to the Ireland of old, to a time when our understanding of the place of women in Irish culture was seen through a mythical lens.

The LÉ Gobnait and the LÉ Aoibhinn will be the names of Ireland’s new inshore patrol vessels.

As reported in the Irish Examiner yesterday, one of these two new ships is likely to be put into active service within the next few weeks, alongside the LÉ Niamh, perhaps returning to patrol after issues with a lack of key personnel.

The Tánaiste, surely invoking de Valera and his image of women dancing at the crossroads of 1950’s Éire, remarked that these names “are firmly rooted in ancient Ireland, representing women in Irish mythology and history.” So far, so true. 

It was the next part of his statement which struck me as wildly out of touch.

“They are also relevant to modern Ireland as variations of these names can be recognised today.” 

According to the Central Statistics Office, there were less than three babies born with this name in 2023. “Less than three” could actually mean zero because, for confidentiality reasons, the CSO cannot be too specific with such a low uptake of a particular name. 

Furthermore, Aoibhinn was the 183rd most popular baby name in Ireland in the same year.

“Relevant to modern Ireland” is doing a lot of heavy lifting here. A properly relevant naming decision would have seen these new ships being called after inspiring women of the 20th century, not mythical ghosts of antiquity.

However, the problem with the new names goes much deeper than their relevance, or not, to modern Ireland. 

The issue is the Tánaiste’s departure from former government policy on how our vessels are named. 

Back in the early part of the last decade, the previous coalition government decided to move away from the traditional naming convention, which focused almost exclusively on mythological Irish female characters. 

In a refreshing deviation, the names of influential Irish literary figures from the 20th century were chosen instead. 

This resulted in Alan Shatter, former Minister for Defence, launching the LÉ Samuel Beckett and the LÉ James Joyce, in 2013 and 2014, respectively. 

While these were followed by boats with yet more male names (the LÉ William Butler Yeats and the LÉ George Bernard Shaw), at least a new framework had been established, one which celebrated real and tangible figures from our more recent past. 

While the Tánaiste’s announcement last week is masquerading as a celebration of Irish women, instead it is actually pulling us backwards towards a time when the only way we could muster up some enthusiasm for the commemoration of women was if they happened to be allegorical.

Éamon Ó Cuív, Fianna Fáil TD and grandson of de Valera, takes a different view. In fact, it was Ó Cuív’s lobbying on this matter in the Dáil that appears to have influenced the Tánaiste’s decision on the new names. 

He told me that ancient, mythological names for our vessels “reflected something very basic in our culture, very old in our culture.” Ó Cuív argues that a foundational aspect of our campaign for independence was that “we were always a separate, different nation with our own culture going back thousands of years and this reflected that in a nice and pleasant and modern way.” 

Gobnait seems to refer to Goibhniu, the ancient goddess of beekeeping. Or perhaps it refers to St. Gobnait, a 5th century saint from Co. Clare. Or is she an amalgamation of the two? The vague historiography around her adds to her aloof and figurative position in our lives. Aoibhinn was supposedly the mother of St. Enda. She died in the mid-6th century.

How can these stories be considered inspiring to young people, when our male-christened ships speak of the great writers of our recent past? After a hundred years of statehood, is there really such a need to express our separateness through ancient allegory? 

During my research for this article I have sought to understand how these new ships fit into our broader naming culture. There is clearly a dearth of female names in our built environment too. 

Responding to my request for information, the Department of Defence told me that “the Tánaiste decided to name the P70 class Inshore Patrol Vessels LÉ Aoibhinn and LÉ Gobnait, reverting to the use of traditional female Irish names”. 

LÉ Niamh (P52) is a Róisín -class offshore patrol vessel in the Irish Naval Service. The ship is named after Niamh, queen of Tír na nÓg, from Irish mythology. Commissioned in 2001, as of 2020 the ship was in active service. The vessel is now tied up for works at Rushbrooke, Cobh Co Cork. Pic: Larry Cummins

The decision “reverts” to previous conventions. This is a regressive move. If the decision had instead followed the new approach of the previous coalition government, then what names could have been chosen? 

The LÉ Kate O’Brien? The LÉ Maeve Binchy? The new ships are replacing the LÉ Ciara and the LÉ Orla, vessels whose names also delved deep into our collective past. The name of Ciara recalled a 7th-century nun from Tipperary, and Orla was a grandniece of Brian Boru.

The retirement of these ships was an opportunity to move on from our national obsession with invoking the ancient to tell the story of a modern Ireland. It isn’t just ships which have carried this burden. 

Let’s not forget the image of ‘Mother Ireland’ on the old Irish pound note, painted by John Lavery. There is a curious history of a mystical woman being the embodiment of Éireann. Yet we continue to be reticent about celebrating real, specific women from our more recent past. The new ships’ names should instead showcase our pride in modern female change makers.

Curiously, our two new inshore patrol vessels have actually been renamed. This is because, unlike our P60 ships, the LÉ Gobnait and LÉ Aoibhinn were actually bought second-hand from the New Zealand government. 

Until now they were called HMNZS Rotoiti and HMNZS Pukaki. While the initials refer to ‘Her Majesty’s New Zealand Ship’ (they were active prior to the late monarch’s death), Rotoiti and Pukaki refer to lakes in New Zealand, as they were originally designed as inshore vessels. 

Is it not bad luck to change a boat’s name? Although, let’s be fair. An Irish state vessel with ‘Her Majesty’ scrawled on the side of it? A surefire way to bring down a government. 

The British approach to the same naming conundrum has been more progressive, with the Natural Environment Research Council instituting a system which allows for public input. 

While proving to be a more democratic process, it hasn’t been without its pitfalls. Let’s not forget the furore that ensued back in 2016 when the Great British Public chose Boaty McBoatface as the name of a new research vessel. 

While the public’s vote was ultimately ignored, the authorities did allow the name to be used for a small robotic submersible which makes part of the larger vessel to this day. 

The Department of Defence has told me that our system doesn’t allow for public input. 

Instead, “the Minister for Defence decides on the names for Irish Naval Service vessels, taking into consideration any recommendations or advice from the Defence Forces amongst others.” 

This is an old-fashioned approach that misses a key opportunity: involving the public can increase awareness of our fantastic fleet and the work that the Irish Navy does. The risk of ending up with Bád McAghaidh Bád is one I’m willing to take.