Life as a Great Blasket caretaker: I knew I would go back, but I would not live it the same way

Life on the Great Blasket Island, as caretaker of its small café and accommodation, is dictated by the rhythms of the sea and the weather. This particular day, the high winds that swept in overnight made the crossing from the mainland impossible, halting the usual flow of visitors and supplies.

With no guests to attend to, the island offered a stark, solitary beauty. Venturing towards Ceann Dubh, the westernmost point, the author was met by a formidable Atlantic storm. The rain, arriving with an almost personal intensity, saturated everything, turning a planned walk into a test of endurance against the elements.

Back in the relative shelter of the cottage, the true impact of the downpour became apparent. While a soggy sandwich and forgotten suncream were minor inconveniences, the soaking of the journal represented a more profound loss. This journal, meticulously kept over three months, was the repository of the island season's unfolding narrative, a personal record now threatened by the very wildness that makes the Blaskets so unique.