The vegetation has grown so thick that a close examination of the structure is effectively impossible, and the site's official classification remains uncertain. What makes it quietly odd is the gap between what it might have been and what can actually be confirmed: folklore and place name evidence point towards an ecclesiastical origin, suggesting a church or monastic enclosure of some kind, yet the physical remains resist any firm conclusion.

When a survey was carried out in 1939, the interior was still legible enough to reveal the foundations of both rectangular and circular houses beneath the overgrowth and stone collapse. Mounds of blackened earth packed with shells were also noted at that time, the kind of deposit that can indicate long-term human occupation and activity. The first edition of the Ordnance Survey map had already recorded two rectangular buildings on the site, which means the structures were at least partially visible in the nineteenth century before decay and vegetation closed over them. The site appears in J. Cuppage's 1986 archaeological survey of the Dingle Peninsula, Corca Dhuibhne, which drew together evidence from across this exceptionally dense archaeological landscape on the southwestern tip of Ireland.

What remains today is, by most accounts, an enclosure that rewards patience more than clarity. The irregular stone walls survive beneath the growth, and the slope's orientation towards the harbour suggests whoever established the site chose the position deliberately, though whether for spiritual, domestic, or some combined purpose is a question the ground has so far declined to answer.