‘Mind the goats’ the man said cheerily. ‘They’re not used to people so they might go for you’. And he shoved off from the island, leaving us to our fate. And these weren’t typical goats. They were the big hairy kind, the strong kind with massive curved horns. The kind of goats that when they appear out of the shrouding mist look big and scary and make you stand ever so subconsciously closer to the next person. As we ascended Scarriff I noticed that the goats initially appeared in 1’s and 2’s before slipping away into the cloud. Each time they reappeared there were more of them. ‘They’re grouping for an all out counter-assault’ I whispered to my fellow walkers. ‘They won’t take this invasion of their territory lightly.’ But the goats played a diplomatic hand. They chose to wait and ascertain our motive for being there, before deciding their own move. And they discovered our motive was benign- to simply have the unique joy of climbing to the top of Scarriff Island. We meant no harm to the goats, the bird population, the flora, or the plentiful butterflies. And so the goats left us in peace and we left them in peace, giving each other something to talk about in the days ahead.

It’s not often, nay rarely, that humans land on this island. But some do, and the evidence of their passing is there to see. Scarriff has the remains of a dwelling. This family left in the 1920’s under a Government relocation scheme, supposedly after a resident had to swim several miles ashore to seek help for an ill family member. Their ruined home remains, along with overgrown stone walls which are home to some of the island’s many nesting birds. It was emotional to stand at their former home and imagine what life was like for the children growing up there. I could almost hear their laughter as I imagined them running up and down the steep grassy slopes above their house

There is evidence of more recent activity too – modern post and wire fencing is erected here and there, its purpose unclear. However the island was used periodically for grazing sheep so perhaps this fencing is a leftover from those times. But all of this has little impact on the 365 acre island – most of the time that you are walking you will see nothing but the high grass, heather and gorse that cover the land. The goats will appear sporadically and disappear just as quickly. And of course you will have the eternal accompanying sounds of the myriad of birdlife that choose this as their home.

Scarriff is an island almost completely encircled by cliffs and insurmountable rocks. But someone in the distant past thoughtfully carved out some tentative steps in one section of gentle sloping rock, making access a little less slippery. It was here that our boatmen dropped us with their friendly warning about the goats. Reaching the summit in the cloud, we found an unmarked grassy mound. We chose to leave it as we found it, and took nothing but precious memories. Trackback: https://mountainviews.ie/summit/1000/comment/6433/

As we approached Scarriff Island it appeared almost ominously through the fog ahead of us. As we got closer we could see that the island was draped in cloud which looked to me almost like some land that 'time forgot'. We landed on the NE coast of Scarriff , half expecting to meet some prehistoric creatures but we only found a herd of goats (along with the resident seabirds) and followed a SW line for about 1.6km to the summit. The going was a bit harder than Puffin Island, which we had already done on the same day, mainly because the extensive cover of long grass, bracken, gorse and heather which was sodden from the fog shrouding the island. Although there were no views from the summit (because of the fog) the views from lower down gave a stunning perspective of the coastline and an appreciation of the isolation of the family who lived on the island until the early C20th. Once again thanks to Wicklore for organising the visit. Trackback: https://mountainviews.ie/summit/1000/comment/6432/

Back in 1911 Lawerence Shea and his wife Bridget would have looked out of this bedroom window at Deenish Island.
He could not read or write and spoke only Irish. Five of his seven living children recorded in the census could and spoke Irish and English.
How alien would our lifes today seem to these people
In 1901 the same Sheas were living on the mainland in the townland of Coomatloukane.
Two shepherds father and son John and Patrick Galvin shared the house on the island at that time.
One of our boatmen said that a story goes locally that one of the Galvins once swam to the mainland to get help for a family member with appendicitis.

Thatch gone now, and only one window with a frame. Trackback: https://mountainviews.ie/summit/1000/comment/6429/

My hat goes off to the first one to climb this island hill. Not only does it look quite imposing, but simply sailing the water to it would be an adventure! Trackback: https://mountainviews.ie/summit/1000/comment/3992/