Bryan Dobson reminisces about a time when he was pursued into a woodland by a loyalist crowd, while seated at the coffee stop within RTÉ’s Stage 7 edifice. “I was covering a Castlewellan riot in Co Down, and I mistakenly thought I was safe behind the police lines, but the police abruptly vanished, and suddenly I was on the opposite side,” he recounts. “I had no option other than to bolt, and I hurdled a wall.”
As a “relatively green” correspondent for BBC Radio Ulster at the time, Dobson stood out as he was lugging around a weighty reel-to-reel tape recorder. “Some lads tracked me into a forest. I managed to lose them, but in the process, I discarded my recorder, which didn’t sit too well with them.”
This rather wild memory of a young Dobson extricating himself from a “tricky spot” doesn’t quite gel with the later image viewers came to know of the unflappable news anchor, who co-anchored the Six One television bulletin for two decades of his 37 years at RTÉ.
The reason for this retrospective chat under the glazed roof of Stage 7 is Dobson, or ‘Dobbo’ as he’s fondly known, is on the verge of his retirement. At this point, he will have already delivered his final News at One on Radio 1 and departed Montrose, leaving behind the thrill of live news broadcasting.
“I’m somewhat taken aback [by the fascination], I’m just a 63-year-old chap retiring,” he expresses.
Yet, he recognises from his own experience that exits from daily routines might signify “a pause” in a person’s life. “That might be the reason.”
When discussing the ongoing trend of dispatching presenters to broadcast locations typically plagued by severe weather, Dobson’s name readily comes up. When asked if the freezing weather at Stormont, the backdrop for the pivotal story that was “probably the pinnacle” of his career, as often depicted on screen is really that bad, he simply laughs.
The first time he ever felt deeply chilled was when he was on the banks of Shannon, Limerick. He recollects his feet freezing and remembers wishing for the filming programme he was working on to come to a swift end, worried that he would transmogrify into a block of ice. He learnt an invaluable trick – use newspapers to insulate your shoes.
Dobson’s era in Six One, starting in 1996, marked a turning point in the presentation of news, lifting anchors off their chairs and transforming them into contemporary communicators. The new role involved them rewording scripts, interviewing, and adding credibility to the news simply through their presence as opposed to simply reading off given scripts in an impassive manner.
Back in the day, it wouldn’t be unusual for Dobson to receive complaints when he engaged in firm exchanges during interviews. However, he asserts, the understanding has generally improved and it’s now accepted as part of a newsreader’s job.
Dobson amusingly states that picking between TV and radio is akin to favouring one child over another. Television boosted his profile and treated him kindly – he was RTÉ’s seventh top earner among presenters in 2022, with earnings just under €210,000. The visual medium also facilitated bonds with the audience.
However, by 2017 he sought a change and was happy to return to the spontaneity of radio journalism, joining Morning Ireland. Surprisingly, it pushed his boundaries, which he enjoyed, he said. Even after switching to News at One in 2020 – a platform uniquely suited for his probing questions and uncomplicated empathy, the early starts during his time at Morning Ireland established a pattern of early rising.
He speaks about early rises throwing his usual routines out of balance and suggested that ageing may have played a role as well. When asked how he feels about this chapter of his life drawing to a close, he responds ‘just fine’, although he confesses he doesn’t quite know how life without the daily adrenaline of a newsroom will pan out.
“Having spent over four decades in the broadcast industry, this would be the first time I won’t rise in the morning to either sit behind a microphone or in front of a camera. I’m unsure about what to expect – severe withdrawal symptoms are a possibility, or I may not experience them at all”, he remarks.
He continues, “Interestingly, when I transitioned from Six One to Morning Ireland, I didn’t miss the television side of things. I was still satisfyingly engaged with the broadcast media. There’s an underlying uncertainty as to whether this change might turn out to be a shock to my routine, or maybe not. Only time will tell.”
The idea of retiring had been lingering in his mind for quite some time and was eventually decided upon and publicised in January – yet, prioritising his decision-making for his impending retirement was highly liberating, especially compared to just waiting for it to happen.
By the time he turns 65 in October 2025, retirement was inevitable. Luckily, he didn’t have any lingering career aspirations, he once dreamt of moderating a general election debate; this, however, never materialised due to various reasons. But during the last election, he ended up conducting one-on-one interviews with the main party leaders, a task he found demanding, challenging, and incredibly enjoyable.
The factors pushing him towards early retirement had been steadily building. Sharing their life together, himself and his wife Crea Gogan have repaid their mortgage for their residence in Portobello. Their daughters, Sophie and Hannah, are now all grown up and living independently. They plan to spend more time with their two and a half-year-old grandson, Sophie’s son.
“There are a myriad of things to do that don’t involve going to work. Given the circumstances and decreased emphasis on holding a job, retiring early just seemed appropriate. But only time will reveal if this was a wise decision, check back in a month or two,” he concludes.
His summer agenda comprises a peaceful vacation at their Ballinaglera residence, located in County Leitrim, along with a scheduled sailing adventure. He is a part-owner of a little cruiser boat, Mawal, which he co-owns with a comrade he met at the formerly operative Irish chapter of the French sailing-training group Glenans, where he briefly served as a volunteer sailing teacher.
He developed a fascination for sailing during his childhood years in Sandymount, even though he only actively began to sail in his thirties. The allure of exploring the open water, and being absorbed into a completely different world, was amplified by his constant exposure to the world of news.
Regardless of this, he has no plans of reducing his consumption of the news. “I’m hooked,” he admits, “Actually, I might even be consuming a bit more now.” He’s not looking to collaborate with independent production houses at present, however if someone approaches him with an offer, he’s all ears. His current inclination is to take a break from broadcasting, without committing to any additional projects beyond his ongoing charity work.
He’s anticipating the opportunity to reciprocate the ardent regards he received in January while enjoying a few celebratory drinks to mark the onset of this fresh chapter of his life.
As to whether he has many intimate friendships within RTÉ, he says with a chuckle, “A fair few, hopefully. I guess I’ll find out once I’m gone.” He has been friends with Anne Cassin since college, and has fostered a strong bond with Sharon Ní Bheoláin through their years of collaboration on the Six One project. Shane McElhatton, a co-worker from his RTÉ days and a fellow neighbour, is also a close friend he plans to keep in touch with.
Reflecting on the recent shrinking of the journalists’ generation that became prominent in an earlier, less divided media age, he acknowledges that he doesn’t feel as though the retirements are more frequent than before. “But you never truly gauge the conclusion of an era until it’s over.”
Awareness pervades RTÉ following the turmoil of the previous year, and a certain level of apprehensiveness is felt amongst its staff. Those of an older generation are planning for retirement in the near future, thus a shift in leadership lies ahead.
Scandals involving concealed payments did not touch RTÉ news and current affairs, even though the department was subject to other controversies – the Mission to Prey and Frontline’s ‘Tweetgate’ in 2011. The Mission to Prey scandal saw an investigative film wrongly defame Fr Kevin Reynolds, a Catholic priest, which led to several staff departures, reprimands from the Broadcasting Authority of Ireland, and substantial damages. In addition, an untrue tweet presented on-air by Pat Kenny during the final TV debate before the presidential election, inaccurately implied that a man had donated to a candidate’s fundraiser. RTÉ issued an apology and considerable damages were paid to Gallagher.
Referring to this period as ‘challenging’, Bryan Dobson attributes the clean-up efforts of Kevin Bakhurst, the incoming director of news and current affairs, for his optimism in the ability to address significant issues within RTÉ.
Dobson, with no family history in journalism, got his first taste of broadcasting in the ’70s when he participated in a forward-thinking pilot transition programme at Newpark Comprehensive, a Blackrock state secondary school, which involved making a radio production. This experience inspired him to apply for a journalism course at the then College of Commerce in Rathmines. Although he failed to secure a spot on the journalism programme, he was accepted onto the communications course, which focused on film and radio production.
“Perhaps it’s not a big deal,” he postulated, possibly underestimating the situation. He started in Southside Radio, a rogue station, as a newsreader during the summer. This was then proceeded by a longer duration at Radio Nova, during its initial days of non-compliance. He then spent three informative years at Radio Ulster, even learning a thing or two about strategic exits.
[‘Dobbo has vacated the premises’: Bryan Dobson ends his final broadcast with audiences bidding him goodbye]
In 1987, he embarked on his journey with RTÉ, initially contributing to their Sunday programme called This Week on Radio 1. He was swiftly ushered into the role of business correspondent, providing business segments on television, and fronting the TV show Marketplace. Consequently, he started to present the news in 1991, firstly for the 1pm bulletin followed by the 9pm one.
“It arrived unlooked for,” he recalls.
During that period, his continued association with RTÉ was uncertain, he reveals.
He admits, “When I rejoined in 1987, the country was in disarray, leading to a sense of significant despondency.”
He sought UK-based employment, despite his wife Crea, whom he wedded in 1988 after six years of courtship since their first meeting on Inishbofin, was expecting their child and was hesitant to relocate to London.
“It all worked out for the best,” he reflects positively. “Because the situation improved almost immediately.”
In 1994, when he went to cover the historic South African elections, it was the first instance of RTÉ assigning a news anchor to such an expansive foreign assignment. He was accompanied by Charlie Bird, who was responsible for covering the entire land, and Sean O’Rourke, focused on radio. They felt slightly overwhelmed in the face of 200 BBC reporters.
In Pretoria’s amphitheatre, where Nelson Mandela’s oath-taking ceremony took place, the atmosphere was notably relaxed.
He reminisces, “It was a fairly open affair. I mean, I chanced upon Yasser Arafat, spotted Fidel Castro, and even the Duke of Edinburgh.”
He deems the Belfast Agreement of 1998 peculiar in its unique way. In the congested Stormont buildings, he recalls witnessing seasoned journalists shedding tears amongst the joyous celebration of a political feat, once believed to be out of reach.
Reflecting on the past, he wondered even then, ‘Am I truly experiencing this?’ The era referred to as the ‘long 1990s’ symbolises a period of anticipation and growth, starting with the collapse of Berlin Wall and ending with 9/11. Could the optimism of that era be palpable while it was happening?
Undeniably, Ireland was experiencing a surge of prosperity throughout the 1990s, which he found it intriguing to document. His current perspective on this era is that drastic transitions can indeed occur.
Turn your gaze to the appalling housing crisis, a black mark on our recent government. He argues that if concentrated efforts are made to usher in real changes, situations can pivot quickly. However, Dobson, known for his witty quizmaster services at the Annual Business Journalists Association fundraiser for Dublin Simon Community, concurs that changes can lean towards both the positive and negative. The escalating issue of entrenched homelessness sadly substantiates the latter scenario. This will ‘without doubt’ feature as a matter of concern in the upcoming elections, he affirms. ‘It undoubtedly needs to.’
In the context of elections, didn’t he feel the urge to continue till the next one?
He alleges that he considered the idea. However, he eventually decided that having been involved in election coverage for RTÉ since the 1980s and having debuted by hosting its results programme in 2002, it was high time he watched the forthcoming one from the comfort of his couch.
He comments, ‘There’s always a reason to persist, always one more thing.’
He mentions Larry Gogan, his colleague Crea’s uncle, as an individual whose love for his profession made it seem less like work.
I consider myself fortunate to belong to that league,’ he shares. ‘The job never felt like a burden to me; I always regarded it as a privilege.’