That uncertainty is precisely what makes this spot interesting. A promontory fort is typically a defended enclosure that uses the natural advantage of a headland, cutting off the landward approach with a bank or ditch and letting the water do the defensive work on the remaining sides. Here, though, the evidence is thin enough to leave the classification as a possibility rather than a certainty.

The site first came to attention through cartographic rather than physical evidence. Neither the Ordnance Survey six-inch maps of 1838 nor those of 1930 record anything notable at the location. It was only on the larger-scale twenty-five-inch plan that a subtriangular hachured area appeared, measuring roughly forty metres north to south and thirty metres east to west at its broader southern end, neatly encompassing the triangular tip of the headland. On the strength of that cartographic trace, the site was listed as a possible promontory fort in the Sites and Monuments Record in 1991 and again in the Record of Monuments and Places in 1997. A visit to the ground reveals very little to confirm or deny the classification: the land is in pasture, there is a very slight rise in level at the relevant point, but no visible remains of any enclosing bank or ditch survive. A field fence that once crossed the headland on a north-east to south-west axis, visible on the 1930 map, has since been removed, leaving the pasture unbroken.

What remains, in other words, is a cartographic ghost and a gentle swell in a field beside a lough. The site sits in that particular category of Irish archaeological record where the landscape holds the memory of something, but will not say clearly what.