The Ordnance Survey mapped it simply as a single gallaun, the Irish term for a standing stone, but a 1911 survey described something more elaborate: an alignment of three stones oriented roughly north to south. Two of them lay prostrate on the ground, measuring 2.7 metres and 3.4 metres in length respectively, spaced 3.4 metres apart. The third still stood upright to the south, 2.5 metres high and nearly two metres wide, tapering to a point at its top. Stone rows, which appear throughout prehistoric Ireland and are particularly concentrated in Munster, are thought to date broadly to the Bronze Age, though their precise purpose remains debated.

What makes the Curraduff site particularly puzzling is that the count kept changing. Where the 1911 account noted two fallen stones, later sources from 1939 and 1941 recorded either three, or seven or eight prostrate slabs. Whether the discrepancy reflects different observers counting differently, further collapse between visits, or stones being shifted in the intervening decades, is impossible now to say with certainty. What is certain is that the question became moot: by 1945, the stones had been broken up and removed entirely. A site that had persisted on a windswept hillside for potentially three or four thousand years was gone within a few decades of its first proper documentation.

Nothing remains to visit at Curraduff today, but the valley of Glenfais retains the quality the stones once looked out over, that long northward prospect across the bay. The site survives only in contradictory field notes and a handful of measurements, a small example of how quickly the prehistoric landscape of Ireland was altered even in the twentieth century, often before the record was fully made.