I sat at one end of the boat eyeing my little green tent beside me. Would it keep me dry tonight when the rain rolled in? As if reading my
The tide was low so we moored offshore before transferring from the boat to a small dinghy. As we rounded the long pier wall, a picture-perfect scene was revealed on the island shore.
Reading old stories about life on Clare island, one would be forgiven for mistaking these tales for mythical folklore. It was once home to the great pirate queen, Grace O’ Malley, who