You’re standing on the edge of the world. Or it feels like it, anyway. At the very tip of the Dingle Peninsula, the wind doesn't just blow; it pushes. Out there, scattered like broken emeralds in the grey Atlantic, are the Blasket Islands Kerry. They look peaceful from the mainland. Romantic, even. But the reality of those islands is a lot more complicated than the postcards suggest.
Most people see the ruins and think of a "lost world." They imagine a simple, holy life. Honestly? It was a hard-scrabble fight for survival that ended in a desperate SOS to the government.
Why the Blasket Islands Kerry were actually abandoned
The story everyone tells is that the islands were evacuated because life was "too hard." That’s a bit of a simplification. People had lived on the Great Blasket (An Blascaod Mór) for centuries, fishing from naomhógs (traditional canvas boats) and farming tiny patches of rocky soil. They were tough. But by 1953, the community had hit a breaking point that wasn't just about poverty.
It was about isolation.
📖 Related: Is the Caribbean Part of the Americas? Here is How It Actually Works
In 1953, a young man named Seánín Ó Guithín fell ill with meningitis. A storm was howling. No boat could get across the three-mile stretch of the Blasket Sound to the mainland. There was no doctor. No priest. By the time the weather cleared, Seánín was dead.
That was the final straw. The population had already shriveled to just 22 people. The young had mostly emigrated to Springfield, Massachusetts—so many of them went there it was basically a second Blasket colony. The ones left behind were mostly elderly. They couldn't man the heavy oars of the boats anymore. They couldn't harvest the peat.
On November 17, 1953, the Irish government officially moved the remaining families to the mainland. It wasn't a choice made out of a desire for "modernity." It was a rescue mission.
The literary explosion nobody expected
You’d think a tiny group of barely 175 people (at their peak) would leave behind a few folk songs and maybe some recipes. Instead, the Blasket Islands Kerry produced some of the most important literature in the Irish language.
Linguists and scholars started visiting the islands in the early 1900s. They were obsessed. They found a version of Irish that was pure, untouched by English influence. They encouraged the islanders to write their own stories.
- Tomás Ó Criomhthain wrote An tOileánach (The Islandman). He famously said he wrote it "so that some record of us might live after us, for the like of us will never be again."
- Muiris Ó Súilleabháin gave us Twenty Years a-Growing. It’s a much brighter, more youthful look at island life.
- Peig Sayers, the most famous (and sometimes most hated by Irish schoolkids), dictated her autobiography. Her life was a string of tragedies, but her storytelling was legendary.
It’s kind of wild that a community without electricity or running water produced world-class authors. They weren't "primitive." They were highly sophisticated storytellers who just happened to live on a rock.
How to actually get there in 2026
If you’re planning to visit the Blasket Islands Kerry, don't just show up and expect a bridge. You’ve basically got two ways to do this, and both depend entirely on the mood of the Atlantic.
The Dunquin Pier route
This is the classic way. You drive to Dunquin (Dún Chaoin) and look down at that famous winding path to the pier. You've seen the photos—it looks like a stone snake crawling down to the water.
Ferries like the Lady Avalon run from April to September. It’s a 20-minute crossing, but here’s the kicker: there is no pier on the island. You have to transfer from the ferry into a small RIB (inflatable boat) to get to the slipway. If you have mobility issues, this is probably not the trip for you.
The Dingle Marina route
If you prefer a longer boat ride and a bit more comfort, boats leave from Dingle town. These take about 50 minutes. You get to see the "Cathedral Rocks" of Inis na Bró and maybe some dolphins along the way. It’s pricier, but you get the full coastal experience.
Pro-tip: Book your ferry for the very first day you're in Kerry. If it’s cancelled due to weather—and it often is—you’ll want those extra days as a buffer to reschedule.
What’s left on the island now?
When you land on the Great Blasket, it’s eerie. You’ll see the "street"—a row of roofless cottages huddled together for warmth. Some have been restored, like the one belonging to Tomás Ó Criomhthain.
There’s a small café that serves basic stuff, but honestly, bring your own food. There are no shops. No ATMs. No trash cans. Whatever you bring on, you take off.
The most impressive residents now aren't human. It’s the seals. There’s a massive colony of Grey Seals on An Trá Bán (the White Strand). During the winter, there can be over 1,000 of them. Even in summer, you’ll see them bobbing in the water like curious old men or sunning themselves on the sand. Just don't get too close; they’re bigger than they look and surprisingly grumpy.
The "New" National Park status
Something a lot of people miss is that the Blaskets are now part of the Páirc Náisiúnta na Mara, Ciarraí (Kerry Seas National Park). This was established recently to protect the 70,000 acres of marine life and heritage sites.
This is a big deal. It means better protection for the puffins on Inishvickillane (the island once owned by former Taoiseach Charles Haughey) and the Manx shearwaters that scream like ghosts in the middle of the night.
Actionable steps for your trip
Don't just wing it. If you want to experience the Blasket Islands Kerry properly, follow this checklist:
- Visit the Blasket Centre (Ionad an Bhlascaoid) first. It’s on the mainland in Dunquin. The architecture is stunning—it literally points toward the islands. It gives you the context you need so you aren't just looking at piles of stones when you land.
- Pack for four seasons. Even if it’s sunny in Dingle, it will be freezing and windy on the island. Bring a proper raincoat, not a cheap poncho.
- Wear hiking boots. The paths are narrow, muddy, and steep. You’ll be sharing them with sheep, and sheep don't care about your white sneakers.
- Buy the books. Read The Islandman before you go. It changes the way you look at the ruins. You’ll start to see where the hens nested and where the fires burned.
- Check the weather apps. Use Met Éireann or Windy. If the swells are over 2 meters, the ferries usually won't run.
The Blaskets aren't a theme park. They are a graveyard of a very specific, very tough way of life. When you stand in the ruins of the village and look back at the mainland, you realize why they stayed so long—and why, eventually, they had to leave.
Respect the silence out there. It’s one of the few places left where you can actually hear the Atlantic talking.