Microadventure: “The island that died for want of a telephone”

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It was a promisingly sunny afternoon as we dashed down the quayside in Cleggan and threw our bags aboard the ferry for Inishbofin. After a yawnsome four-hour drive from Dublin, this sudden burst of excitement and panic ensured we would keep our appointment with Dermot by a hair’s breadth.

Half an hour later, the ferry safely in port and another gaggle of American tourists off to roam the island for the afternoon, Dermot beckoned us down a slippery flight of stairs to the water’s edge where a small powerboat was tied up. No sooner had we arrived at Inishbofin, a few miles offshore from County Galway, than it was receding into the distance again, and after a few minutes of darting between rocky outcrops and tiny green isles of sheep and gulls we were soon drifting up alongside an eerie, crumbling wharf.

This was the island we’d come way out west to visit; an all-but-forgotten victim of bureaucracy and bad weather called Inishshark.

A rare shaft of light in Inishshark harbour

It is almost inconceivable to me, as a landlubber from the English Midlands, that there are places in the British Isles so utterly desolate and remote as this island seemed to be. Ever since I began to travel and learned how absurdly limited my knowledge of the world actually was, I have been yearning to explore more deeply the lands surrounding the place I once called home. I’ve made a concerted effort to do so during my occasional stays at this end of Europe, but it seems I still haven’t lost the capacity to be shocked.

Inishshark’s story is purportedly one of human tragedy, and one wanders the square kilometre of squelchy meadow, hillside and slate with the shells of houses and half-collapsed walls as an ever-present reminder. The last remaining residents were evacuated in 1960, when the Irish government deemed it too expensive to provide services such as telephone lines, electricity and a functional harbour to the islanders. It was an event that would nowadays be downplayed as “a regrettable but necessary decision made for the greater good” by a soulless spokesperson on telly. But this was 1960’s Ireland, and it’s likely that just as few heard of the island’s plight at the time as are aware of it today.

Inishshark harbour #2

Wild swimming in Inishshark harbour

Natural & manmade textures

Seagulls over Inishshark

Inishshark's church

The cross atop Inishshark's church

Overgrown settlement on Inishshark

View from Inishshark to Inishbofin

Laid to rest

Inside an abandoned house in Inishshark

Inishshark's western shore

Fearghal and I spent a day and a night wandering in the drizzle, experimenting with some new camera gear and putting the world to rights by a driftwood campfire. I bemoaned not bringing my packraft and not being able to paddle over under our own steam. Chartering a local boat and its owner felt like a bit of a cheat.

Return to society

But I suppose it would be little but a romantic notion to paddle over here — just like the notion of spending one’s life on a tiny weather-battered rock in the ocean. It’d be too easy for me to cast the island’s story as a tragedy, because I had the indelible privilege and certainty of going back home. Maybe those last twenty-three were crying out to leave that god-forsaken island of sheep, seals and seagulls. In their shoes, I’m sure I’d have done just that.

Hands up if you spotted the dessicated cow’s head in the photos.

I suggested this island on Alastair Humphreys’ list of favourite wild places, but he soon pointed out that his list was for Britain, rather than the British Isles. (It’s still a nice list, though.)

Comments (skip to respond)

4 responses to “Microadventure: “The island that died for want of a telephone””

  1. Please educate yourself so when you go visit again you won’t rub the locals up the wrong way. — 


    Great photos, thoroughly enjoyed them.

    1. Thanks for pointing that out. I always considered the term a geographical one (large Britain and the smaller surrounding islands), rather than anything to do with national or political issues, in the same way as people talk about North America to mean also Canada. Nothing beyond that was inferred.

  2. Nice shots Tom. The NEX‑7 is indeed a great adventure travel camera. Small, lightweight, reasonably robust with excellent IQ. Well done.

  3. very nice piece. well done.

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