It is the kind of site that does not announce itself, sitting quietly about 150 metres east of a road bridge, in water rather than on open ground, and visited by almost nobody in any official capacity.

The tradition was recorded by Tim Robinson, the writer and cartographer whose meticulous mapping of Connemara and the Aran Islands brought countless such fragments of local memory into a more durable form. His 1985 reference is one of the few traces this site has left in any written record. Famine burial grounds are scattered throughout the west of Ireland, often in marginal or unconsecrated ground, reflecting the sheer scale of death during the 1840s and the inability of communities, themselves devastated by hunger and disease, to provide conventional burials. An island location, separated from the surrounding land by the river, would have carried its own logic in a landscape where the dead sometimes had to be interred wherever space and circumstance allowed.

Because the site has not been formally surveyed or verified, its precise character remains unknown. What persists is the local memory of it, passed down and eventually noted, a small island in a Connemara river carrying a name and a story that most people crossing the nearby bridge will never know.