New book - Ireland's Islands
12th November 2020
In April 2019 I got an email from Carsten Krieger asking if I would be interested in helping him produce a book on the islands of Ireland. Would I?! If I won the lotto and was suddenly relinquished from the need to make money to survive I would buy a boat and embark on a multi-decade quest to document Ireland's offshore islands. These small, sealocked worlds are more alluring to me than any other kind of destination. When I daydream it tends to be of having a simple stone cabin on some rough few acres of grass and shingle, rimmed by saltwater, stone and sea thrift. This bothán will be tucked in the shelter of a low hill, with a veg plot and a boat to fish with, and a library of books to read away the evenings by a driftwood fire. I'm a good daydreamer. And occasionally I realise these dreams on some level, with my kayak and tent. I can think of few finer adventures than a paddling trip to some long-abandoned islet, the kind of which there are plenty of off West Cork, Kenmare Bay or South Connemara for instance. Such places are havens of peace, wildlife, history and many other kinds of soul food. But I'm rambling now, daydreaming again...
The book with Carsten won't be as comprehensive as the unfeasibly huge dream project I often think about, but nonetheless I was incredibly excited to be asked to get involved. While you should never really need an excuse to visit beautiful places I always like to do so when the trip serves the purpose of completing some mission. I've certainly enjoyed using my free time since last April to visit some of these worlds away from the world. Each has its own character and stories to tell, distilled into a size that feels manageable to navigate, though it soon becomes evident that even a lifetime in any of these places wouldn't be enough to get to know them fully.
Below are some of my images from my trips so far. The book was due to be out by now but the COVID-19 pandemic has delayed things somewhat. I think I'll get over the fact that I still have to visit a few islands before we'll be done yet.
Update, November 2022 - The book is in bookshops now, and available direct from the publisher here.
An aerial view of The Skelligs on an incredible summer morning. This particular day was one of the most exciting of my life, in dream conditions I feel incredibly lucky to have experienced.
Little Skellig pinnacles and gannets in the mist (with a photobombing razorbill). Though Skellig Michael gets more attention I think the Little Skellig is more impressive. The sight, sound and smell of that many seabirds during the breeding season is a sensory overload, and the rock architecture of the island itself is almost incomparable in Ireland.
Sunrise at the south-east end of Rathlin Island, looking over to the huge cliffs of Fair Head. Of all the islands shown here Rathlin was the only one I hadn't already been to before starting work on this book. I spent three wonderful days walking and cycling around this unusual outpost last October.
Kebble Lough, Rathlin Island. Though this particular image could be from anywhere I still quite like the calm atmosphere it evokes.
West Town, Tory Island. Tory is unlike any other Irish island I've visited, with a character distinctly its own, borne of an independence that's crucial for surviving in such an isolated and exposed island.
Looking east along the north coast of Tory. If there's somewhere that can rival the cliff scenery of the Little Skellig this is it.
Blue hour at Rerrin Harbour, Bere Island. I remember sitting in my car during this trip last January and hearing news reports of a novel virus spreading through some part of China I'd never heard of, and wondering why it kept getting airtime on the hourly bulletins...
Winter sunset, Bere Island. These kinds of calm, quiet, overcast days in the depths of winter are underrated.
Trá Gheal, Inishbofin. A beautiful but dangerous beach, photographed here in conditions that could look summery. It was the start of February and howling with wind and I was hobbling around the island dragging my left leg after me a week before knee surgery. Good times.
Showers pass over the mainland while the sun shines on the East End, Inishbofin. I found my eyes almost constantly drawn to the mountains of Connemara during my few days on this enchanted island.
Morning light on the west coast of Sherkin Island as autumn colours take hold. This particular stone fence was irresistible, long forgotten by the looks of the 'fields' it was separating.
Cow Strand, Sherkin. What this island lacks in the drama and wild grandeur found further up the west coast it more than makes up for in a welcoming and hospitable climate.
Grey skies over Roaringwater Bay, as seen from the summit of Cape Clear. The three islands in the foreground are the Calf Islands; full of interest and natural beauty but sadly not part of the list for this particular book.
September sunset over South Harbour, Cape Clear. I spent the summer of 2006 living on this wonderful island, working in two of its bars and spending all my downtime wandering over the hills and cliffs in seemingly eternal sunshine.
Humpback whale lunge feeding south of An Tiaracht, the most remote of the Blasket Islands and the furthest west that any grass grows in Ireland. The technical quality of this image isn't great, shot on a hobbyist DSLR almost ten years ago, but the timing and framing is certainly nice enough for me to still value it.
The north side of Inis Tuaisceart. These pinnacles of rock, known as Barra Liath, make up the head of the Sleeping Giant, probably the most photographed of all the Blaskets. I've spent the past five summers working as a guide on boat tours around these islands. It's surely the most fascinating archipelago off the Irish coastline.
The book with Carsten won't be as comprehensive as the unfeasibly huge dream project I often think about, but nonetheless I was incredibly excited to be asked to get involved. While you should never really need an excuse to visit beautiful places I always like to do so when the trip serves the purpose of completing some mission. I've certainly enjoyed using my free time since last April to visit some of these worlds away from the world. Each has its own character and stories to tell, distilled into a size that feels manageable to navigate, though it soon becomes evident that even a lifetime in any of these places wouldn't be enough to get to know them fully.
Below are some of my images from my trips so far. The book was due to be out by now but the COVID-19 pandemic has delayed things somewhat. I think I'll get over the fact that I still have to visit a few islands before we'll be done yet.
Update, November 2022 - The book is in bookshops now, and available direct from the publisher here.
An aerial view of The Skelligs on an incredible summer morning. This particular day was one of the most exciting of my life, in dream conditions I feel incredibly lucky to have experienced.
Little Skellig pinnacles and gannets in the mist (with a photobombing razorbill). Though Skellig Michael gets more attention I think the Little Skellig is more impressive. The sight, sound and smell of that many seabirds during the breeding season is a sensory overload, and the rock architecture of the island itself is almost incomparable in Ireland.
Sunrise at the south-east end of Rathlin Island, looking over to the huge cliffs of Fair Head. Of all the islands shown here Rathlin was the only one I hadn't already been to before starting work on this book. I spent three wonderful days walking and cycling around this unusual outpost last October.
Kebble Lough, Rathlin Island. Though this particular image could be from anywhere I still quite like the calm atmosphere it evokes.
West Town, Tory Island. Tory is unlike any other Irish island I've visited, with a character distinctly its own, borne of an independence that's crucial for surviving in such an isolated and exposed island.
Looking east along the north coast of Tory. If there's somewhere that can rival the cliff scenery of the Little Skellig this is it.
Blue hour at Rerrin Harbour, Bere Island. I remember sitting in my car during this trip last January and hearing news reports of a novel virus spreading through some part of China I'd never heard of, and wondering why it kept getting airtime on the hourly bulletins...
Winter sunset, Bere Island. These kinds of calm, quiet, overcast days in the depths of winter are underrated.
Trá Gheal, Inishbofin. A beautiful but dangerous beach, photographed here in conditions that could look summery. It was the start of February and howling with wind and I was hobbling around the island dragging my left leg after me a week before knee surgery. Good times.
Showers pass over the mainland while the sun shines on the East End, Inishbofin. I found my eyes almost constantly drawn to the mountains of Connemara during my few days on this enchanted island.
Morning light on the west coast of Sherkin Island as autumn colours take hold. This particular stone fence was irresistible, long forgotten by the looks of the 'fields' it was separating.
Cow Strand, Sherkin. What this island lacks in the drama and wild grandeur found further up the west coast it more than makes up for in a welcoming and hospitable climate.
Grey skies over Roaringwater Bay, as seen from the summit of Cape Clear. The three islands in the foreground are the Calf Islands; full of interest and natural beauty but sadly not part of the list for this particular book.
September sunset over South Harbour, Cape Clear. I spent the summer of 2006 living on this wonderful island, working in two of its bars and spending all my downtime wandering over the hills and cliffs in seemingly eternal sunshine.
Humpback whale lunge feeding south of An Tiaracht, the most remote of the Blasket Islands and the furthest west that any grass grows in Ireland. The technical quality of this image isn't great, shot on a hobbyist DSLR almost ten years ago, but the timing and framing is certainly nice enough for me to still value it.
The north side of Inis Tuaisceart. These pinnacles of rock, known as Barra Liath, make up the head of the Sleeping Giant, probably the most photographed of all the Blaskets. I've spent the past five summers working as a guide on boat tours around these islands. It's surely the most fascinating archipelago off the Irish coastline.