The structure is not dramatically exposed; it is eroding out of the dune's slightly concave face, its stones tumbled and partly sod-covered, the kind of ruin that rewards close attention rather than announcing itself from a distance. What makes it quietly compelling is precisely that uncertainty, and the particular quality of its setting: a narrow rocky gully, filling with seawater at high tide, cuts the peninsula tip off from the rest of the island, while a channel roughly eighty metres wide separates it from Inishkea South to the south. Whoever lived here was at the edge of things in every practical sense.

The building is subrectangular in plan, roughly eight metres along its long axis and between two and two and a half metres wide, which suggests a modest domestic structure rather than anything ceremonial or agricultural. Two to three courses of the exterior wall face survive in places, enough to read the outline of the northwest, southwest, and southeast sides, though the southeast wall has been largely swallowed by the dune and is only hinted at by a few stones barely breaking the surface. The most legible feature is a doorway in the southwest wall, slightly north of centre, defined by a pair of low upright jamb stones set transversely into the wall and spaced about seventy centimetres apart. A single upright stone stands against the outer wall face just to the south of the opening. About eight metres to the east, the eroding face of the same dune has exposed a midden, the accumulated domestic refuse of shellfish, bone, and organic material that past communities left behind, and which can sometimes help date a site even when the architecture cannot. No date has been established for the house, and none has been assumed.

Inishkea North is uninhabited today, and reaching it requires boat access from the mainland near Belmullet. The dune site sits at the island's southernmost peninsula, visible from the shore of Inishkea South across the narrow channel. To the northeast, the Bailey Mór mound is visible in the middle distance, a reminder that this isolated corner of Mayo was once home to a more layered and longer-lasting human presence than its current silence suggests.