'Being in the engine room in an all-male environment meant having to establish yourself'

Working in traditionally male-dominated industries and roles has presented a few challenges but definitely didn't daunt these women

Niamh Fhátharta, naval engineer and instructor at the National Maritime College of Ireland, MTU in Ringaskiddy, stands with confidence outside NMCI overlooking Cork Harbour in full uniform. Picture: Chani Anderson.

Career U-turn

Before Aishling O’Donnell first sat behind the wheel of a HGV, she rode alongside her father and grandfather and was inspired by their tales of
adventure.

“I studied biomedical science in college and was working for a well-known pharmaceutical company in Westport,” says the 34-year-old.

“I did that for five years and when covid started, I was sent home to work. As that went on, I really didn’t feel like going back to work in an office, so I took a complete U turn and decided to chance getting the licence. 

"My dad has tippers and my grandad drove a concrete lorry back in the day. I grew up in the passenger seat of lorries, so I had a fair idea what I was letting myself in for. It was the best thing I ever did.”

Aishling O'Donnell professional truck driver behind the wheel of her truck near Castlebar Mayo. Picture: Paul Mealey.

Five years on from obtaining her qualification, Aishling is still an anomaly, though more women are getting behind the wheel of HGVs.

“When I went to do my test, the woman at reception thought there had been a mistake,” says the Castlebar native. 

“I didn’t let on and told her that I’d give it a crack anyway. When I came out, 20 minutes later and had passed, I explained to her what I had come for. She couldn’t believe it.”

“When I started, I’d pull into a filling station and you’d have people clapping, telling me I was great. I suppose, at the start, when I didn’t have much experience and I was trying to reverse around a shop or something, you’d feel everyone looking at you. It was a bit daunting. But that was then. 

"I don’t pay much heed to it now. There are an awful lot more women doing this now, which is great to see.”

Aishling O'Donnell professional truck driver, based in Castlebar, Mayo. Picture: Paul Mealey

Aishling transports a range of forestry products, including logs and timber for a forest-harvesting company. She can spend days at a time up and down the country in rain, hail, or shine, but wouldn’t have it any other way: “I love the freedom of it. If I compare it to the office jobs I had, there was a lot of pressure... ‘Where’s this? We need this yesterday’. On the road, you have your work, you get it done, and nobody bothers you.”

“I live on the lorry. So when I leave my house on Monday, I usually don’t get back until Friday. I have a bed on the lorry and it’s kitted out with a fridge and a microwave. I usually pull in on the side of the road, if I can. I prefer it. After a long day, you sometimes just want to relax.” 

Aishling wants to keep challenging herself and hopes to “get comfortable with low loaders” and learn how to operate a crane.

“I hope to keep progressing,” she says. “I’m happy on the road, at the moment, but when the time comes, I might have to go back to a cushty little tipper number around Castlebar or something.”

In the navy now

Though she might not know every corner of Ireland like Aishling does, Niamh Ní Fhátharta has seen quite a bit of the world. She signed up with the Irish Naval Service straight out of school.

“I just didn’t know what I wanted to do,” says the 42-year-old.

“My mum had a cousin in the army and she suggested I go and have a chat with him and I ended up applying. I ticked ‘army’ and ‘navy’. I did both interviews, but I just knew when I went down to the naval base in Cork that it was the right place for me.”

Niamh Ní Fhátharta, naval engineer and instructor at the National Maritime College of Ireland, MTU in Ringaskiddy, at the controls in the college’s engineering department, manning the machinery in her naval uniform. Picture: Chani Anderson

Though she grew up in Moycullen, Galway, Niamh spent many of her summers at her father’s home on the Aran Islands, where she developed “a grá for the water” and became a good swimmer. Other than that, she has no connection to the naval service and was drawn to it because of the challenge.

“My mother was delighted because I was delighted, but I don’t think I understood at the time that I was making a big life decision,” she says.

That life decision has given her an enduring and rewarding career as a marine engineer and officer with responsibility for technical recruitment and training. There have been plenty of difficulties.

“Being in the engine room in an all-male environment, as a trainee in particular, meant having to establish yourself,” says Niamh.

Niamh Ní Fhátharta, naval engineer and instructor at the National Maritime College of Ireland, MTU in Ringaskiddy, pictured smiling in the hallway of the college in her naval uniform. Picture: Chani Anderson

“There were challenges around how you handled yourself and making it clear on your roles. Sometimes, the men thought they had to do things for you. But as long as you were clear and you worked hard, you gained their respect. It’s different for us. 

"If you’re one of the lads and you’re funny, they’ll think you’re cool or whatever, but every female engineer I’ve spoken to says the same, that you had to essentially prove yourself before you got the thumbs up.”

Having come through it all and with more than two decades of experience behind her, Niamh has seen major changes: “It’s a different navy now than when I joined. And there are real opportunities to upskill. We’re constantly doing CPD courses, so you can be an engineer, but you can also become a fitness instructor or a diver; with that, you can specialise. There’s a lot of opportunity. 

"I’d definitely recommend it to women. I love being out at sea and the problem-solving nature of what I do. When you’re on a ship with a team, you get really close-knit with people.”

Like riding a bike

Emma Righter also loves solving problems. Originally from the US, the 24-year-old arrived in Cork in September to complete a master’s in creative writing at UCC. To top up her income, she cycled the streets in search of part-time work. She soon came across one of the city’s best-known bike shops, The Bike Shed, and popped in her CV.

“I’m from Florida,” says the student.

“But I moved to Boston after studying English literature in Maine for four years. In Boston, I worked at a non-profit community project called Bikes not Bombs. Part of its remit is to hire young people, usually from disadvantaged backgrounds, to help facilitate bike-mechanic classes to the general public.

“It’s a sort of alternative to trade school, like an outreach programme to help young people get work experience. I was in charge of a group of teenagers who were teaching classes and I ended up helping out quite a lot. I would develop the lesson plans and devise how classes would run. Sometimes, I’d end up delivering the classes.

Bicycle mechanic Emma Righter working on a customer's bike at the Bike Shed in Dennehy's Cross, Cork. Picture: David Creedon

“So that’s how I initially got experience working with bikes and I really loved it, so I started to learn as much as I could about them.”

As a child, Emma had grown up across the street from a skate park. Biking and skating, she says, were a “major part of the social scene” in her neighbourhood and she remembers going to primary school with her younger brother either by bike or skateboard.

The love of cycling was always there and after two years working with Bombs not Bikes, Emma had built up an impressive amount of technical experience and knowledge. That clearly impressed The Bike Shed owner, Cillian Read.

“One of the benefits of that job in Boston was that I got pretty deep into certain components of the bike,” says Emma.

“I don’t think I would have had that knowledge if I had just learnt it myself off YouTube. When I went for the interview with Cillian, I think he was pleasantly surprised, maybe even a little shocked, about how much I knew about certain components.”

Bicycle mechanic Emma Righter working on a customer's bike at the Bike Shed in Dennehy's Cross, Cork. Picture: David Creedon

Emma says that working at The Bike Shed has been “fun” and though her three colleagues there “are all men above 40 with families”, she is fairly sure she has already “gained their trust”, even if her approach to solving problems sometimes differs from theirs.

“Mechanics have individual preferences for how they go about solving a problem and even the order you go in. The way I do things is sometimes different, but I think they are beginning to accept that it is good enough.”

And the customers?

“I’m mainly in the repair room out the back, so I only come out and talk to the customers occasionally,” she says.

“Most of the time, people are super nice, but sometimes you get older men maybe being a little surprised that I’m the bike expert. But nothing to the extent where they ask to speak to someone else.”

Apprentice car mechanic

Julia Werner is another woman who has no problems getting her hands dirty; just on bigger machines. The 25-year-old apprentice car mechanic is now two and a half years into her role and is enjoying every minute of it.

“I actually wanted to be a doctor, but I didn’t get anywhere near enough points and I ended up working as a service advisor for a dealership in Cork City,” she says. “I did that for about a year and learned a good bit about the theory side. At the same time, my partner had bought his dream car and he asked me for a hand with a few repairs. We started at home, replacing bits here and there.

Julia Werner, mechanic at RP Motors in Moneygourney, at work under the bonnet of a car. Picture: Chani Anderson.

“He is a qualified mechanic. I enjoyed doing that and thought I’d give it a shot. So I asked the dealer principal for the opportunity to go on the floor. Once he approved it, I started the apprenticeship.

Julia soon moved to RP Motors in Douglas, where she has continued her training: “I love it. It’s like a big jigsaw puzzle. I’ve tried so many desk jobs and I find I’m best when I’m hands-on with things. Being a mechanic, you just have to figure it out. There’s a logical approach to everything. Since moving to RP Motors, Richard has been very supportive and he’s taught me a lot.”

Julia knows four other women in the locality who work in the same field. Still, she says, people do a double-take when she tells them what she does. 

Julia Werner, mechanic at RP Motors in Moneygourney, is pictured at the garage doorway with a spanner in hand. Picture: Chani Anderson.

“When I meet people that I haven’t seen for a while, they are often quite surprised,” says Julia.

“I even went into a well-known hardware store recently to get a hammer and the fella asked me what I needed it for. When I explained that I needed it for work and told him I was a mechanic, he didn’t believe me.”

Rather than propelling the hammer at him, Julia rolled her eyes and patiently left.

“Some men have no faith in me, but I know that I know what I’m doing. It’s an old-school way of thinking.”

A way of thinking that these four women, at least, are doing their bit to change.