There is nothing to see at the surface, no stonework, no outline, no earthwork interrupting the undulating ground. The place is known only because cartographers and local memory between them refused to let it disappear entirely.

By 1838, when the Ordnance Survey was mapping this part of Connacht in remarkable detail, the church was already gone, swallowed by encroaching sand. The surveyors marked it simply as "Site of Church" on their six-inch map, and their accompanying letters recorded what local tradition still held: that a church called Teampall Rinneáin had once stood at Ross, directly opposite the townland of Bartra across the bay, and that it took its name from Rinnaun Point, the headland on which it sat. The Irish word teampall, borrowed from the Latin templum, was widely used for early Christian churches in Ireland, and the name Rinneáin likely reflects the same headland reference preserved in the placename. By the time the surveyors came through in 1838, the building itself had left no physical trace whatsoever, its walls and floor plan consumed by the dune system that now covers the site.