A Twenty-Year Promise, Dunluce Castle | Ernie & Erica
A Vow Renewal at Dunluce Castle, Northern Ireland
It started with a Sean Connery impression at a mutual friend’s house in New Hampshire. Erica wasn’t looking for a relationship. Ernie wasn’t easy to ignore. Twenty-two years later, they stood on the clifftops of Northern Ireland — their two sons beside them, the Atlantic below — and said it all again.
Dunluce Castle was never the obvious choice. But for Ernie and Erica, obvious was never really the point. They got married twice before anyone knew — once quietly with a justice of the peace, once at a marina surrounded by family. They renewed their vows with Elvis in Las Vegas on a whim. This time, they wanted the cliffs, the wind, and nothing else between them and the moment. Just like a vow renewal in Ireland should be.
Where the Land Meets the Sea
Dunluce Castle sits on a basalt rock promontory on the North Antrim coast, its ruins dramatic against the Atlantic sky. For a couple who always wanted somewhere beautiful, somewhere that felt like the edge of the world, it was the right choice. There are few places in Europe where a wedding in Ireland feels this raw and this real.
The June light on the Causeway Coast is long and golden. The wind does what it wants. Ernie and Erica didn’t mind.
Twenty Years in the Making
They got married twice before anyone found out. First, quietly, with a justice of the peace — just the two of them, no announcement, no party. Then two years later, at a marina with their families, because their mothers wanted it. In between, there was a submarine, deployment emails, flowers sent every month from somewhere in the ocean, and a move from New Hampshire to Virginia. Then another state. Then another.
Somewhere along the way there was also Elvis — a spontaneous vow renewal in Las Vegas, underdressed and not caring at all. That one they liked. This one at Dunluce, they would like even more.
Handfasting on the Cliffs of Northern Ireland
They had talked about including it — an old Celtic tradition, hands bound together with ribbons, a physical expression of the vow itself. On the cliffs above the North Antrim coast, with Caleb and Emmitt standing close, it made complete sense. The ribbons caught the Atlantic wind and flew. Ernie and Erica pressed their foreheads together and laughed. Twenty years, and it still felt like this.
After the Vows — The Causeway Coast and a Proper Irish Pub
After the ceremony, the cliffs were still theirs. They walked, laughed, and let the Irish wind do what it wanted. The boys ran ahead. Ernie dipped Erica somewhere between the ruins and the Atlantic. No one was posing — the landscape takes care of that on its own.
Later, they found a pub. A proper one — dark wood, Guinness, the kind of place where you sit for hours and don’t notice. For a couple who always wants to know where the locals eat, this was the right ending to the day.
And then, as the light faded over the water, they drove to the Giant’s Causeway. Just the two of them this time — the ancient basalt columns, the dark sky, the sea. The way they always wanted it.










































