What makes it quietly odd is the double well arrangement: two separate enclosures, one circular and one square, just a metre apart, fed by springs that had both run dry when surveyors visited in July 1984. Holy wells, natural springs venerated over centuries and often associated with healing or local saints, are common enough across Ireland; paired wells enclosed in contrasting stonework, one drystone and one mortared, are considerably less so. A stone-lined overflow channel still ran beneath the entrance of the square enclosure, suggesting the site had been engineered with some care, even if the water itself had ceased to flow.

The first edition of the Ordnance Survey six-inch map names the place plainly as St. Brendan's Grave and Well, placing it within an established cartographic tradition of marking such sites, however modest. By the time the third edition appeared in 1931, a circular pathway surrounding the wells was depicted, though by 1984 no surface trace of it remained. Seven metres to the west of the wells stands a limestone slab, dated to the seventeenth or eighteenth century, carved with a crucifixion scene and described as reputedly marking the grave of St Brendan himself. Whether this refers to Brendan of Clonfert, the sixth-century navigator and monastic founder whose fame spread far beyond Connacht, is not specified, but the dedication is ancient enough that the association had been recorded by O'Flanagan as early as 1927. Since the 1984 survey, local effort has gone into conserving both the wells and the slab, a modest but meaningful act of continuity for a site that had been slowly losing its visible traces.