An Adventure to An Blascaod Mór

A tick off the bucket list and a visit to one of the most difficult holy wells to get to – Tobar an Croise, Well of the Cross, on An Blascaod Mór, Great Blasket Island, West Kerry.

We have often gazed at the enigmatic Na Blascaodaí, the Blasket Islands, from the mainland, usually seen disappearing and reappearing through veils of different weather systems. The image below shows one of the most evocative islands, the enigmatic Inishtooskert, better known as An Fear Tarbh, the Dead Man.

We’ve idly wondered about visiting but the stretch of water from the pier in Dún Chaoin, Dunquin, to An Blascoad Mór, the only island readily accessible, is notoriously turbulent and unpredictable. It was this turbulence and unpredictability that eventually saw the demise of the island’s population. Having had a population of over 120 people at its height, it dwindled until eventually, on 17th November 1953, the last 21 remaining inhabitants – four women and 17 men – were reluctantly evacuated to the mainland. Since then, the island has had no permanent inhabitants but it does have seasonal caretakers, who live there for the summer months. This year Emily Campbell from West Cork and Daniel Regan from London are doing a great job, running the coffee shop and raising visitor awareness about the island’s extensive seal and bird colonies. Intrepid travellers can also stay overnight in renovated homesteads or camp, but there is still no electricity and conditions remain (appealingly) basic.

There is of course a holy well on An Blascaod Mór and we decided the time had come to investigate and, having consulted the forecast, booked a place on the ferry. This leaves from the ridiculously scenic, steep, windy and notorious Cé Dhun Chaoin, Dunquin Pier, where every year there are stories of hapless motorists deciding to drive down and getting horribly stuck! It’s a 20 minute ferry trip across the Blasket Sound and and we were helped aboard by the genial boatman, our fellow passengers a French family and some walkers. Although it looked dead calm from the mainland it was surprisingly bouncy in reality! The last part of the trip involved being decanted into a small inflatable rib and deposited at the base of a steepish haphazardly-cemented path up onto the island.

But what an entrancing place. The only village remains tucked into the hillside. A survey from 1991 recorded 65 buildings, homes for humans and animals, eking out a living in this wild spot. The photo below dates from the 1920s.

In the image below, dating from 1946, three generations of a family are gathered outside their house, the men noticeably absent.

And this one shows the village school in 1932, the older children seemingly interviewing the younger ones in true folklore-gathering style.

Today most of the buildings, including the school, are in ruinous conditions, their rooves gone – said to have been taken by the villagers when they left.

A few buildings have been restored for use by overnight visitors and to give a feel of living conditions.

It’s easy to get misty-eyed and romantic about the beauty of the place and the simplicity of the lives but in reality life was harsh and unforgiving with no access to help in emergencies. Infant mortality, for example, was desperately high. Yet, the islanders were resourceful and creative, renowned for the astonishing number of storytellers, poets, writers and musicians, and for the purity of their spoken and written Irish. Many of their works are published: Tomás Ó Criomhthain (An tOileánach, The Islander), Peig Sayers (Peig) and Muiris Ó Súilleabháin (Fiche Bliain ag Fás, 20 Years A Growing) being the most notable.

Just wandering around it is easy to see how stories and music might emerge, the eerie and hypnotic calls of the seals (there are a lot of them), and the water and the wind whipping up an exotic mixture of sounds and emotions.

Its essence is beautifully captured by the slow air, Port na bPúcaí, the Fairies’ Lament. It is thought to have originated on the island of Inishvickillane. This is what Muireann Nic Amlaoibh has to say about it:

A fisherman of the Ó Dálaigh family from The Blasket Islands heard this music come from the sea on the wind one night, and played it on his fiddle. Some say it was whale-song he heard, while others say it had supernatural origins. The words tell the story of a woman captured by the fairies. Tom na hInise Ó Dálaigh gave my father these lyrics.

Her rendition is spine-tingling, beautifully accompanied by her husband Billy Mag Fhlionn.

Well of the Cross, Tobar na Croise, Tobercrusha

An Blascaod Mór is in the care of the OPW and guided tours are organised during the season and I decided to join one. How interesting to hear that there are 21 place names containing the word tobar on the island – water in abundance, but little seems to be known about the holy well, Tobar na Croise, Well of the Cross. I had studied the the Archaeological Survey for County Kerry and had some idea where it might be. When we reached the area I thought it was in, to the east of the village, I asked if the guide knew anything about it. He had a vague idea where it was and assured me I was going in the right direction. He told me to head towards the cliff, then go down a bit and I would know it when I saw it!

I followed his instructions and as I carefully slipped downwards, a hopeful sight appeared amongst the green tufts.

Getting closer, the ground was definitely getting wetter and this definitely looked like a well!

Two large concrete blocks formed the sides of the well and a flat lintel lay overhead. The water trickled out from a spout and collected in a roughly rectangular basin. It was cold and clear though full of water weeds and said to be especially good for cattle ailments. A stone decorated with a cross was once located near it but has since disappeared.

This photograph, taken sometime in the 1950s, shows it has changed over the years. The concrete and spout remain though the basin has lost many of it stones and the whole area has softened and greened.

And could this delightful image of Cait taken in 1932 be at the same well? I hope so. The stone to her right looks interesting too, is this the vanished cross slab?

We returned the same way we had come, the swell even bigger, the walk up Cé Dún Choin especially challenging after all the fresh air on the island.

St Gobnait’s Well, Dunquin, Tobar Ghobnatan, Dun Chaoin

I was delighted to have found Tobar na Croise but can find little information about it. It seems St Gobnait’s Well, Tobar Ghobnatan, on the mainland was the one frequently visited by the islanders and we made a return visit the next day. The weather had closed in and was highly atmospheric, the landscape bleak and spectacular with huge views out to the Na Blascaodaí, today shrouded in dense cloud. The building in the distance is the remains of the schoolhouse, built as part of the set for the film Ryan’s Daughter.

I have written about this well before but it is always a pleasure to revisit. Lying at ground level, the well is protected by a stones arranged in a horseshoe-shape, a cross-scored stone set on the very top.

A serene sculpture of St Gobnait herself gazes down into the water.

It was here that St Gobnait began her epic peregrination in search of the place of her resurrection, identified when she saw nine white deer. At Dun Chaoin, she fasted for 40 days, saw three white deer and caused the well to spring up. A pattern is still held here on her feast day, 11th February.

Nearby is the newly refurbished Blasket Centre which manages to combine thoughtful displays with fascinating information about the lives of the people who lived on An Blascaod Mor for so many hundred years. Highly recommended.

The location of Tobar na Croise can be found in the Gazetteer.