The site is not a monument in any conventional sense, no walls, no earthworks, no burial. It is simply a place where prehistoric people left behind the debris of their work, and where the ground has since shuffled that debris enough to frustrate tidy interpretation.

The scatter was identified during a field study carried out between 1983 and 1985, and what researchers found was not a single uniform deposit but two distinct concentrations of material within the same field. One group produced uni-plane cores, which are nodules of flint from which flakes have been struck off in a single direction, along with larger flakes and blades that resemble later Mesolithic material, suggesting a possible date somewhere in the middle Stone Age, roughly between ten thousand and four thousand years before the present. The second concentration yielded uniformly smaller flakes, blades and cores, but these were, in the words of researcher Johnson writing in 1987, not diagnostic of any particular lithic industry, meaning they could not be firmly assigned to any specific period or tradition of tool-making. An excavation carried out in 1986 added another layer of ambiguity: it produced no features and no evidence for an undisturbed occupation level. In other words, whatever happened here, the ground holds no intact floor, no hearth, no pit, nothing to anchor the flints to a moment or a purpose.

What remains is the fact of the flints themselves, and the cliff, and the sea below. People were here, working stone, more than once it seems, and in more than one period. The site resists the tidiness of a label.