Islands of Ireland: Glistening sea and gentle breeze on a trip to Derrinish in Clew Bay
Abandoned houses at Derrinish, Clew Bay, County Mayo. Picture: Dan MacCarthy
The game of assigning shapes to Clew Bay’s myriad islands can be a taxing one. One looks like a fish: easy. Another resembles a sperm whale: easy.
However, others resist comparison though they often have exotic shapes with long tails or elaborate curves. In the middle of the bay lies the hilly Derrinish which has a huge gouge out of its southern side making comparisons a bit trickier.
Perhaps the best place to view these islands is from the top of one of Ireland’s best-known pilgrim sites, Croagh Patrick. With a good map you can start to identify the islands working from south to north but just when it seems you are making progress the task becomes pointless as the eye is lost in bays, hump-backed hills, sandbars, islets, and reefs.
🏞️ 1km à pied... 🎶🚶♂️
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Avis aux aventuriers ! Lacez vos chaussures de randonnée et à partez pour un voyage inoubliable à travers les paysages sauvages de l'Irlande 🌿🌄
🥾 Sentier de découverte du Burren
🏞️ Croagh Patrick avec vue sur Clew Bay
📸 Saddle Head Hike, île d'Achill pic.twitter.com/AvLClUeP4q
Derrinish is in the western part of the mid-section of a group of islands which are among the largest in the entire bay and include the largest, Collanmore. The island is not to be confused with Dorinish in the south of the bay which was once famously owned by John Lennon.
At 30 acres in size, it supported 40 people in 1841, though the effects of the Famine virtually destroyed the population numbers. The Ordnance Survey maps show a group of six buildings huddled together halfway along the southern coast and protected from the Atlantic storms by its 22metre hill, a considerable buffer to the prevailing winds. An old pier on the short strand provided ready access to the sea for the islanders and the means by which they supported themselves along with farming.
By 1911, seven members of the Gavan family were the remnant population (that name is one of the more prevalent on the islands of Clew Bay). However, by 2006 just one person remained living there. The island is neatly divided into a number of fields, so clearly grazing is the major land use today.
Derrinish comes from Doire Inish or ‘Oak Wood Island’ which bespeaks a tragedy in its own right along with the vanished population. Where once oak woods covered the island, binding the soil together and providing ample home to dozens of bird species, now you have to have a good walk around the island before you spot a tree. The dearth of wood in societies that had depended on them for food, shelter, water, and even myth, was studied in depth by Jared Diamond in , his brilliant analysis of global societies. And this tree-loss would seem to have had an impact on Derrinish in its inevitable decline.
On a recent kayak trip to the middle part of the bay, a definitive route from Inishcottle was laid out encompassing 12 islands but on returning it was discovered that three islands had been missed — how was this possible!
A return trip to make sure they have been ‘bagged’ will take place once the weather cooperates.
The trouble starts with Clynish which is attached by a gravel bar to Freaghillan which, in turn, is tethered to Knockycahillaun which, in turn, is fastened to Islandmore. At least the latter link is more substantial. So, is that one island linked by the gravel bars, or are there four distinct entities? Cartographers cry the latter, and each island has its own distinct name.
Once that group of four is negotiated, the islands to the north present a similar problem: Rabbit Island (also linked to Islandmore) is linked to Inishbee, but also to our subject at hand here, Derrinish. It is little wonder that in the War of Independence, the IRA hid an arms dump on one of the islands. Without local knowledge that would never be discovered.
On the way back to Inishcottle the kayak decided it was a good time to malfunction and the seat supports snapped. A somewhat bumpy journey homeward ensued. However, on a spectacular day with a glistening sea and a gentle breeze, this scarcely mattered. It was like kayaking into a Wallace Stevens poem:
“The hue / of heaven in an antique reflection rolled / round those flotillas. And sometimes the sea / Poured brilliant iris on the glistening blue” — 'Sea Surface Full of Clouds'.
: No ferry. Kayak from Inishcottle near Newport.
: logainm.ie; , Berry Print, Michael Cusack
