Yet on a low-lying finger of land jutting westward into the Atlantic, flanked on one side by a sandy cove and on the other by sea rocks, there are the remains of a promontory fort, the kind of enclosed coastal settlement that Ireland's early inhabitants favoured for its natural defences and ready access to the sea. What makes this one quietly arresting is how thoroughly the ocean has done its work. The proximity of the water has almost certainly accelerated the erosion, and what survives now barely registers as a fortification at all.

The headland measures 45 metres across its neck and extends 36 metres in length. A promontory fort works on a simple principle: the sea does most of the defensive work on the exposed sides, leaving the builders to seal only the landward approach, usually with a bank, ditch, or wall. Here, that barrier takes the form of an earthen bank curving toward the land, now worn down to a scarp that rises just 1.5 metres above the outer ground level at its southern end and diminishes to about a metre at the north. No trace of a ditch survives, and whatever entrance once pierced the bank has left no clear mark. Inside the enclosed area, known as the garth, two hut sites remain. The smaller of the two, penannular in form, meaning roughly ring-shaped but with a deliberate gap, measures just 2.2 metres in diameter and sits close to the northern edge of the site. Toward the centre lies a second hut, circular and considerably larger at 6 metres across, its walls reduced to a low, grass-covered mound of earth and stone. Scattered across the gently uneven interior are rocks thrown up from the shore below, a reminder of how close the sea presses in. The details recorded here come from Markus Casey's 1999 MA thesis surveying the coastal promontory forts of counties Sligo, Mayo, Galway, and Clare, one of the more systematic attempts to document this neglected category of monument before further losses to coastal erosion make the task impossible.