The islands of West Cork face an uncertain future
Irish Examiner reporter Noel Baker (left) helping islanders and workers Seamus Griffin, Bernie O'Leary and Martin Sheehan to get their boat ashore after arriving from Dursey Island recently. Picture: Eddie O'Hare
Of late, the crossing between Dursey Island and the mainland has become fiercely elemental - a battle against time and the tide.
On a Friday morning in early December, Bernie O'Leary and Martin Sheehan, both natives of the West Cork island, edged across the narrow but treacherous channel. Completing the journey was one thing, getting Bernie's small boat ashore was quite another.
Luckily, contractors working on the reconstruction of the famous cable car were there to help. They have spent much of the year down in Dursey Sound, building up the tower on the mainland side so that the cable car - the only one in the country and for decades the primary method of access to and from the island - will resume in early 2023.
But their strength and equipment has also come in useful when boatmen need to drag a vessel up the steep gradient and away from the clutches of the sea. The derrick, used to lift boats out of the water, is useless, brown and rusted. Muscle and sometimes a mechanical digger are now called on, as it was that morning.
One mishap aside, when the rope snapped and the Y buckle shot off into a fence, Bernie's boat was finally secured, but Martin Sheehan was in no mood for congratulations. "Neglect," he said. "Unprecedented" and "danger" were other words he used, alongside some delightfully colourful language that lit up the cool morning.
There are many questions: why wasn't the island tower done first, in the good weather and the long days? Why has the pier at Ballaghboy been allowed to fall into such a state of disrepair? And what about the future of an island which faced possible depopulation in the weeks running up to Christmas, raising the prospect of a first festive season without anyone being there?
Martin says: "I was the second youngest of nine children and when I think back where our parents slaved on Dursey to rear us - the government preach on about promoting rural areas and these peripheral areas and stuff like this, you have that on one hand and this on the other hand, thrown to the wolves, like."
He may live on the mainland but he is forever over and back, not least because his cattle, grazing on Dursey for the winter and, he says, with not a bale of hay or a bale of straw. He says the animals have sufficient grass to get them to February. By then the cable car is due to be back up and running, but Martin has his doubts.
"There was 50 people on Dursey when the cable car came in '59, when I started school in '66 there was 15 pupils in the school," he recalls. "They [the government] preach one thing and practice another."
Despite the sandpaper wind, the sea was calm, at least according to Bernie. Quietly spoken, he says he hasn't spent a Christmas on Dursey for the past 40 years, and this one will be no different. But what could change is that no one might be on the island come December 25.
A German couple and 80-year-old Jimmy Harrington were due to come across in the week ahead.
"It's quite possible," Bernie says of the prospect of depopulation. "To my knowledge there was always somebody there."
He is wary of saying too much - "I don't want to be cutting the place down completely" - but he's unsure of the future. "I don't think we'll ever see the island populated again, not by workers anyway," he suggests.
Martin is roiling, and riled. "There are holiday homes there but it's sad, like, it's very sad," he says. "Nobody seems to give a hoot."
A study officially published this month analysed the housing situation on the seven populated west Cork islands and found that if a variety of issues were not addressed "there is the risk over time of the loss of entire island communities, and, with them, the vital contribution of the islands to Ireland’s heritage, culture and economy".
The report, titled Housing and Sustaining Communities on the West Cork Islands, was written by Dr Siobhan O’Sullivan and Dr Elaine Desmond of the School of Applied Social Studies and Institute for Social Science in the 21st Century at University College Cork, and explored the housing situation on Bere, Dursey, Heir, Long, Oileán Chléire, Sherkin and Whiddy islands. Between them, those islands had a total population of 495 in 2016.
"On the West Cork islands, this housing crisis is occurring in small communities in contexts already beset by concerns of permanent depopulation," it said. The authors suggested that the problems were more acute on the islands than on the mainland — after all, if someone leaves for good, they might not be replaced.
In the words of Dr O'Sullivan, it is an "existential threat". The report said that Dursey was threatened with permanent depopulation. The research was based on the views of residents, both full-time and part-time, and second home owners, with 238 islanders completing a survey.
They called for more social and affordable homes and sheltered housing on the islands, "addressing the precarity of renters on the islands", as well as tackling derelict houses through increasing grant thresholds and appointing a Vacant Homes Officer specifically to the islands, alongside increasing grants for retrofitting on the islands to enhance the quality and energy efficiency of islanders’ homes.
The report also found that residents already living on the islands want a new resettlement fund and a gateway housing scheme incorporating full-time housing options for those wishing to settle there. Other measures listed included better ferry services, enhanced broadband and schooling.
On Bere Island, wedged against the Beara coastline, these issues are very real. Bere has the feel of a working island. According to John Walsh, Project Coordinator with the Bere Island Projects Group, the population is 160, a number which trebles in the summer.
It is a place rich with history, and a unique one at that. The country celebrated its official centenary on December 6 last, but Bere was a little different - the British maintained a Treaty Port there until the tricolour replaced the Union Jack in 1938. Many of the older buildings are redolent of the colonial era, when Bere served as an Army barracks.
It is now in heavy use by the Irish Defence and Naval Forces. The graveyard is the place of rest for several young British soldiers, brought back from the battlefields of World War 1 and who then succumbed to their injuries on the island's military hospital.
The Bere Island Christmas Newsletter carries an article about the publication of a new book about the internment camp which operated on Bere in 1921, "a diverse group of men including poets, writers, intellectuals and committed war of Independence volunteers".
So close is Bere to the town of Castletownbere that you get the mistaken sense you could peer in the windows of the houses opposite, but according to John Walsh, the islanders have a fierce independent streak. He recalls once being told by an older islander that they would rather drop dead on Bere than spend the rest of their days on the mainland.
Near the ferry pier on Bere is a signpost. It looks like it's missing three plates, likely the result of winds, but the remaining ones point the way to Whiddy Island in Bantry Bay, to Cape Clear, and some 272 nautical miles away, to Tory Island off the coast of Co. Donegal. For John Walsh and Tim Hanley, the Barnsley-born Community Development Worker for Bere, Whiddy and Dursey islands, many of the islands share similar issues.
John knows of couples and families who want to move to Bere Island but who face a number of obstacles, not least a shortage of housing. At the same time, he highlights a site at Ballinakilla in the centre of the island, bought more than a decade ago by Cork County Council, which has never been developed.
Gerard Sullivan has a similar story. He is owner of the Bere Island Boatyard, set at a dry dock facing the mainland, near where the mast and funnels of the Panamanian vessel the MV Bandini Reefer break the surface of the water.
It was lost in 1982, and lies in contrast to the enormous 55 ft tuna trawler currently undergoing repairs inside the huge green dry dock building. A feat of engineering, this remarkable structure keeps the sea out while the boat lies inside, bone dry and having received a fresh lick of paint, sitting pretty like a toy left at the bottom of an empty bath.
"We have a specific planning problem on the island," Gerard says. His own son went for planning permission seven times. No one wants random houses popping up all over the place, he says, but he also argues that documents such as the County Development Plan do not take the unique character and requirements of the islands into account.
He feels that Bere has enough holiday homes, and that the boom in those properties across the seventies and eighties has now resulted in fewer properties for those who need them today.
He says he knows of five couples looking to come back to the island, but they cannot get planning, or feel that it is unlikely they will succeed. It is not even that they have all been refused, he says: "They are afraid of it. We have very little objections."
Both John and Gerard refer to the demographics on the island and how it reflect its history. They say that in years gone by islanders were farming and fishing and each family had a 20-acre holding, with a home on every one and six to 12 people in each. "Now they tell you where you have to go," Gerard says.
"There is plenty space," he continues, but there can be little choice. John refers to a property which came up for sale on Bere which was sold before the advert was even placed. If you want to live here and something becomes available, you need to snap it up.
The UCC report found that among the West Cork islanders, the availability of housing was a major concern, but not the only one. More than half of respondents lived in properties which had been built almost 80 years ago and while most respondents were very satisfied (39%) or satisfied (41%) with their living arrangements, those who rented their homes on the islands expressed greater levels of dissatisfaction. Among renters, 31% did not consider their home to be worth the rent paid, and 46% were experiencing difficulty in meeting monthly rental costs, with a third expressing concern over accessing rental supports.
"The lack of rental security was a concern for 58% of respondents renting their home, with 46% stating that they had no formal written lease/tenancy agreement," it said. "These findings highlight the particular precarity of renters on the West Cork islands."
"When renters were asked specifically about the factors that concern or impact them regarding renting on the islands, 69% said that the condition of rental properties was a concern," it said. In addition, 82% of respondents identified challenges with finding people to undertake home maintenance.
One participant said: "It’s almost impossible now to get tradesmen, it's impossible to get a gardener and it’s impossible to get people who could support older people living on the island."
Bere could well be unique in having such a high level of industry. Gerard typically has around 20 people working in the business, 12 of whom are currently living on the island. The workforce is half Irish, half European.
"We had two fellas come from Poland and the first six or seven months was the hardest," Gerard says. "When they got used to it they wouldn't even go to Castletownbere. One fella is here 17 years, with his wife. They really made us.
"We are talking about sustaining these places," he continues. "Upskilling people for what we need." Even then, the challenge can be retaining staff. Gerard refers to the "MacGyvers from here", people whose logistics skills are sharpened by constantly having to take ferry times and tides into every equation, meaning they are often headhunted by other companies, including pharma giants near Cork city and beyond.
As Gerard sees it, the solutions must come from within, from "disruptors", to deliver the vibrant communities everyone on the islands wants to see. "We cannot rely on the council," he says.
Angela McCarthy knows all about it. Born and bred on the island, she left aged 19 and has mostly worked and lived near Cork city. Now, decades later, she wants to return home with her son and her UK-based partner. She has been given a site by her father on which to build - but she has been refused planning permission.
"I work from home, because I was thinking of moving back home, so got a remote job," she says. "I had applied for planning permission already, then I got remote work. Everything has fallen into place, apart from that [planning]."
Despite renting near the city, she says she has returned home most weekends, and that her son has spent much of his summers and free time on Bere. When she is back she does her mother's shopping and helps out at the weekends. She has two brothers and a sister living on the island, but the problem, it seems, is the site.
"I had been approved as a person," she says. "I had a letter from both schools I attended down there, I explained everything [about her parents still living there], they said I had passed in that capacity, but then it was the site." The refusal suggested it was too elevated, that it may detract from the landscape.
Angela says changes were made to the proposed design, but to no avail. "There was no compromise, no advice, it was just totally no and that's that." It means she is at a crossroads. Continuing to rent does not seem like a good idea and building on Bere - while more expensive than building on the mainland - is still cheaper than buying on the island, and that is allowing for the fact that properties very seldom come up for sale.
Renting on the island is a short-term option, but again, properties are not plentiful. For Angela, the obstacles to returning home, to a "forever home", seems to run counter to the various plans that are meant to encourage people like her to return and help sustain island life and communities.
"It's my home, I love it," she says of Bere. "My partner lives in England, he is moving over as well, we are getting older, we can't rent for the rest of our lives, that [building] was solving that as well, it wasn't going to be very expensive.
"That was our forever home, I have a son, and the plan is it would be his as well.
"It doesn't seem to make sense. I don't begrudge anyone building a holiday home or a second home, but you're walking around the island and seeing houses and asking yourself 'will I find one people are actually living in?
"It [planning permission] seems a lot stricter for rural areas, islands and all that. Do they just want to keep it pretty for people to visit every so often? That is not going to happen if there is no one living there. It will kill off the island."
The uncertainty means that, instead of moving home, Angela may end up moving to England where her partner lives. She describes it as "a bit of a mess", adding: "There is nothing I can do at the moment."
Orlagh Harrington, originally from Castletownbere, is another person forever on the look-out. She has been principal of the primary school on Bere Island since September 2019, having moved from Dublin with her partner and baby.
"I had the crazy urge to come home when I was pregnant," Orlagh says. "I came home when I was on maternity leave in Dublin, then the job came up here. I had always worked in Educate Together schools, I had never worked in a Catholic school before. I went for it, got it and I love it, absolutely love it."
When she first became principal she was living on the mainland, and discovered that an island allowance that covers certain travel expenses did not apply to people appointed after 2011. That meant ferry costs and more, and so they decided to move to Bere.
"My partner is French, he had never lived beside the sea," she says. Orlagh "immediately" felt part of island life - "you get into those community circles, it's more reinforced here than they would be in cities," she says.
Orlagh also quickly came to appreciate the distinct nature of island life, which to her seems almost a reaction to the proximity of Bere to Castletownbere. "It's because we are so close that people maintain the distance," she reasons. "It's like the closer you live to the Kerry border, the more Cork you are."
Housing, inevitably, became a bigger issue as time went on. Some properties that were available at the time were not suitable for a family with a small baby. Despite the lack of options, they did secure a rental property, and then just this month switched to another.
It was a long time in coming - Orlagh put signs up on the island and on both ferries; one person approached them. The housing stock is simply not there. "There was one house free on the island to rent, which we have rented," she says. "We are down in the village [Rerrin] and it feels like we have moved back to Dublin."
Land is a finite resource on an island and people can be - perhaps understandably - reluctant to sell a potential site if they feel their own son, daughter, grandchild or other relative might need it some day. Orlagh is now expecting her second child next year and through her job can see the need for families to live on the island and to sustain it into the future.
There are currently 17 children at the school, an increase of one from last year. "It's really hard to get data on potential," she says. "There are potentially hundreds of people who would love to live on Bere island but we have no way of catching that data." And currently, they would have nowhere to live.
"Bere is different to the other West Cork islands, it's a real working island," she continues. "During Covid, any other island was stressed over lack of income, here there is a lot of business based on the island, that are independent of tourists."
Orlagh attended the launch of the UCC report in Bantry and heard a variety of contributions, some of which centred on the issue of holiday homes, including a possible tax on second homes.
"If there are no families on the island then there is no school," she says. Her partner stays at home, primarily because there is no childcare. That means a single household income, competing for any property that might become available with others who have more financial clout, maybe even people from Dublin looking for a slice of island life.
"We just need to facilitate families and younger people moving in, at a reasonable and affordable cost," Orlagh says.
There is an acknowledgement that tourism can and will play a role, but as she considers the pupil numbers at the school into the future, it is clear that any island, including Bere, needs people with a sense of permanence, of it being the main home, not a holiday or second home.
And even though Bere might not be as much of a destination as Cape Clear or Sherkin islands, the seasonality of it can sometimes be quite stark. She likes to see people out and about, rather than what she recently observed - "there were no lights on between here in the village and the martello tower."
According to the report on housing on the islands, Bere was the most populated of the West Cork islands, with 167 in the 2016 Census, though this was down from 216 in 2011. By contrast, the population on Cape Clear had increased between 2011 and 2016, up to 147.
The Census conducted this year will bring updated figures, but those island populations are prone to fluctuation; for example, there are currently dozens of Ukrainian refugees currently living on Sherkin Island, which in 2016 had a population of 111.
Sitting at his desk on Bere Island, Tim Hanley says of the population of Dursey: "Depends what day it is." He's joking, but is clearly aware of the issues on this most far-flung of the Cork islands. The 2011 Census put the number living on Dursey at three, rising to four by 2016.
According to the report, it has the fewest settled inhabitants and is threatened with permanent depopulation. It is one of only two islands "where a number of properties and parcels of land do not appear to have a registered owner" (Cape Clear has a similar issue, though to a lesser extent).
According to the aforementioned Cork County Development Plan for the Islands: "For each of the West Cork islands, apart from Dursey, the plan also states that ‘the key issue is not the number of houses that are built on the island but the need to encourage growth in the permanent all year-round population on the island.’"
And it said: "[t]he island [Dursey] has a particularly unique landscape and cultural quality which differs from the experience on some of the other West Cork Islands. Sensitivity must be exercised in the consideration of appropriate and sustainable forms of development and a balance must be sought between recognising the needs of occupants and visitors alike whilst respecting the character and sense of place of the island."
These communities and places are fragile. The UCC report outlines how "parts of Whiddy and the centre of Heir are increasingly susceptible to flooding, erosion and rising sea levels". John and Tim estimate that building and maintenance costs are likely to be at least 30% higher on the islands.
They believe an existing repair and lease scheme should have different parameters to places on the mainland to encourage transformation of derelict or vacant housing stock. Access to and from the islands has always been weather dependent. And without new or returning families, population levels can slip and keep slipping.
Tim Hanley says Cork County Council was informed a year ago of the poor state of the pier infrastructure at Ballaghboy. While a temporary transport service has been operating to and from Dursey, the absence of the cable car as a regular mode of transport has left islanders "high and dry", he says.
And so we arrived into the middle of December, wondering if and when those final residents would slip across the grey channel, leaving Dursey empty. Of course, when the cable car returns, so will the tourists and those with holiday homes. Will they come and go, or will there be any sense of permanence, of Dursey still being a place of residence, rather than just a point of interest on the Wild Atlantic Way?
Then, in mid-December, a West Cork Municipal District Meeting heard from a county engineer that track ropes to support the cable car at Dursey will need to be replaced - pushing the date for the re-opening of the cable car to next Easter. John Walsh says the closure of the cable car is an issue for the entire peninsula.
"People heading to the cable car, they stop to eat and drink. All the business people in Beara are concerned about it. It is also a signature point on the Wild Atlantic Way - all those who head to Dursey, people from all around the world would use that."
Each of the islands has their quirks, their unique aspects. Whiddy is dominated by the Zenith energy Bantry Bay oil storage facility, a big employer in the area. Sherkin had managed to increase its population by a third between 1981 and 1991, with "a community of non-native incomers attracted for ‘quality of life’ reasons and working mostly in arts and crafts".
Driving around Bere, you get the sense of similarity with other islands, but also those points of difference. On Bere there are the Martello Towers, the old British military settlement, now used by the Irish army, the fact that Laurence Freeman OSB, a Benedictine monk and the spiritual guide and Director of The World Community for Christian Meditation, leads retreats on the island. His mother was born here, John explains.
As we drive through Rerrin village, he points out Dessie O'Sullivan's bar. Apparently, back in the eighties, Dessie gained a reputation as an ace purveyor of Heineken to visiting yachty types, who were given short shrift when they asked for vodka with lemon and limes and who then had to switch to lager. According to John, this was Dessie's stock reply: "I'm not a fucking greengrocer."
Bere Island Community Radio has been on the air since 2018, with a rolling cast of presenters. John says it was a "mad idea" to begin with, but it has become a fixture of island life, and beyond. Tim Hanley has an easy listening programme on Sunday, and there's even a Bere Island Discs segment.
In a piece in the Bere Island Christmas Newsletter, John writes how people in 19 countries around the world tune in every week, mostly people with a connection to the island.
He says one of the most popular programmes is the broadcast of Sunday Mass, which attracts not just those living overseas, but also has people aboard trawlers out at sea listening in.
On December 25, the Christmas Mass from St Michael's Church will issue across the airwaves, waiting for people wherever they are to hit the right place on the dial, floating out to various destinations and right past Dursey, where the radios, and the houses, will lie silent.
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