“It’s true,” says North Cork native Sheila O’Callaghan, who relocated to the island from Brazil with her partner Christian Kosner three years ago.
“You might be living in a city and not talking to anyone from the beginning of the day to the end. Cities can be very lonely places. A lot of people don’t even know their neighbours’ names. We don’t have that problem here since there are only four of us living here full-time.”
Jimmy Harrington, known to many as Dursey’s unofficial lord mayor, and Bernie O’Leary, complete the island’s humble population.
Of course, there are also the “special guests appearances” from farmers with homesteads on the mainland, as well as tourists and holiday home residents.
Located off the south-west coast at the western tip of the Beara Peninsula, the island has a hostile yet rugged beauty.
Life breathes quietly here as sheep and cattle stare at the passing strangers. Many visitors come to experience the Beara Way walking trail or marvel at the 200-year-old signal tower. Tourists travel in their droves through Dursey Island’s famous cable car to bask in the island’s beauty.
The aerial tram reopened to the public on June 9, 2023, after more than a year, following a €1.6m refurbishment.
Initially opened on December 5, 1969, by then taoiseach Jack Lynch, it was introduced to provide a safer means of transport for islanders and their livestock. Before this, anyone wanting to reach the island had to risk hazardous tidal conditions.
The service, which connects the island to the Beara Peninsula about 250m above sea water, ceases operating at 7.30pm during summertime and 4.30pm in winter. It leaves Sheila, Christian, Jimmy and Bernie with just each other to depend on.
But as Sheila explains, the isolation has its advantages.
Crime isn’t an issue here. It’s not like anyone is going to come over on a boat to rob your house. Even when the cable car is operating it wouldn’t bode well to step out of one carrying a wide-screen television.
Issues like potential medical emergencies, however, remain a concern. Sheila recalls one particular incident that put their survival skills to the test.
“Chris had dengue fever and the zika virus, which both come from mosquitos. He brought them back to Ireland without realising and became violently ill to the point where he was in bed hallucinating and sweating like crazy.
“It got so bad and his fever was so high that I didn’t know if he was going to be alive in the morning. The doctor was able to guide us over the phone and explain what to do.
“Fortunately, Chris was fine. He had training with the Red Cross and we have our own boat so if the helicopter can’t come and we urgently need to get off the island we know we will manage.”
The couple have come a long way since purchasing a home on the island. A friend had told them about a house for sale. It was love at first viewing for the couple, who decided to swap the hustle and bustle of Rio de Janeiro for a more tranquil existence.
“I think people find it strange that we live so remotely. The cable car connects us and we can use it anytime, unlike on some islands where the only way to the mainland is via a ferry that leaves twice a day.
People assume it’s very lonely here but I have the most interesting, wonderful, conversations in life. If you enjoy your own company, then it’s peace on Earth.
Sheila said some people struggle to understand opting for such a relatively isolated life.
“Usually, the first question people ask is ‘are you happy here?’ They’ll often say that I seem sophisticated and obviously lived a life before this. Their faces are often quite worried. While this is a question we get from other people, it has never been a question for us. We’ve always been really happy.
“I think what springs to mind for people are the complications of having to drive up to the cable car, take the shopping out of your car and place it on to the cable car. After that’s finished, you put it into your jeep on the island and take it home. You handle everything about seven times more than you would on the mainland.
“People find how I live strange but it’s a way of life for us. It’s not a novelty, it’s not a downer. It’s just how it is. As far as I’m concerned, I’m living in Disney World. Every day I wake up and think ‘Wow, this is how I live’.”
Sheila acknowledges how different their lives might be without the cable car service — which is run by Cork County Council.
“The cable car wasn’t put in for tourism. It was brought about to create life on the island and allow life to continue. We are so lucky to have it.”
She and Chris had been living in Rio de Janeiro, where Sheila was discovered by a model scout before moving to the island. She was 49 and subsequently carved as a career as a mature model, lending her face to cosmetic giants like Shiseido.
She continues to travel around the world for photoshoots but is best known on Dursey for delights like organic lemonade and her signature carrot cake. The former publisher enjoys serving these to passing tourists in need of sustenance and refreshments.
Meanwhile, Chris said advancements in technology have made it possible for islanders to thrive professionally.
It comes as the island prepares for the introduction of high-speed broadband, which is being rolled out as part of the National Broadband Plan.
“I work in cyber security and about 95% of this can be done remotely,” Chris says.
It doesn’t make any difference whether I’m here or in an office in Dublin or London. Technology has made it increasingly possible to live on these islands and not be a farmer or fisherman.
Jimmy Harrington, who grew up on the island and returned 20 years ago after raising his family, Elizabeth, Gerard and Catherine in England, remembers a time long before broadband. Remnants of an old post office and telephone box serve as reminders of the fisherman’s past.
“I remember the parish priest had plans for a cable car and we all thought he was crazy,” he laughed. ”Life on the island was different when I was a child. Everybody knew everything about everyone but it was all good.
“I remember people out dancing on the road to a man playing the accordion. Everyone stayed up until 3am. We had some great singers too. There were lots of card games. Christmas was an exciting time on the island. I loved getting an orange in my stocking. Each night of Christmas was celebrated with a different party in a different house.”
He remembers the excitement of watching shopping arrive on the island.
“You were able to order shopping over the phone. A horse and cart would arrive with supplies from the mainland. It was difficult to get the animals over here back then. They’d normally have them swim next to the boat. They would have ropes on them and their strength often ended with them pulling the boat away from you. Other times, they would lie on their sides and refuse to swim at all.”
The 84-year-old isn’t fazed by the island’s tourism influx.
“People who visit the island ask me about what life was like here but I don’t mind it. I remember visiting the Faroe Islands and asking people there about their way of life and this is no different. I always tell them that the best thing about living on an island is the sea air. The only thing is it’s terrible on cars. You couldn’t have a good car here because they never last long.”
Jimmy is meeting his daughter Elizabeth on the day of our visit. Even as the clouds clothe themselves in a damp and dirty mist, her arrival shines a welcome light. She has travelled from Lancashire for a holiday and is keen to chat about her childhood impression of the island. She says her dream is to return to the island permanently after she retires from nursing.
“I’ve been coming here since I was six months old. We spent our summers here from July right through to the end of August. We used the outdoor pump to wash our hair and all of our clothes were hand-washed. I bottle fed the lambs and helped with the hay. We talked and visited other islanders.
“Donkeys were used for carrying turf from the hill and shopping. They were fabulous animals. There was no television. The radio was our main source of entertainment. We played hide and seek and I went fishing with dad. It was a tough but lovely life. The stories were interesting and the people were kind.
When the weather is nice it’s a beautiful island. If you get up 6am you can see the dolphins and beautiful wildlife.
She recalls the harshness of the winter months on the island when she came to visit as a child.
“I was wearing five dresses all at once to keep out the cold. You could cope with that though because the island was so beautiful. I know my mum — who died in recent years — found it hard as the population on the island got smaller. She used to like it when there were more people. She was really sociable. I’m the complete opposite to my mum in that regard as I am very shy and quiet.”
Many who moved away are still drawn back to Dursey Island. Denis Healy is among them. The West Cork man earns a living with a farm on the island, which he balances with his now permanent residence in Castletownbere.
“I have sheep and cattle here now but I grew up in the island. It’s coming up to 44 years since I left Dursey… Life was tough here but we didn’t take any notice. There might be three or four weeks where we wouldn’t get off the island. It wasn’t too bad in the summertime. It was calm and you could go to Mass. You could get out a couple of times a week. In the wintertime it was harder.
When the cable car arrived it was a mighty job. You could go back and forth anytime you wanted.
He described the sense of independence island living promoted.
Holiday homeowners have also helped to breathe new life into the island in recent years.
Eanna Murphy, who operates the food truck, the Dursey Deli, said they had been a boost to business.
“Sometimes I’ll get calls on WhatsApp from people asking me to send them over lunch on the cable car. They will then send the money on the returning cable car. A man who used to have a tour bus on the island literally got his lunch from us that way every day.”
Eanna’s mother Marjorie, who runs the business with him, said she was at a loss as to how the lunches survived those journeys.
“I was always expecting the plate to arrive at the other side empty. Fortunately, we were able to trust those in the cable car not to eat the food and they had a safe passage.”
Eanna and his mother have made some lifelong friends on the island during their time in business. Marjorie tells the Irish Examiner: “Jimmy Harrington, who we know as the Lord Mayor of Dursey Island sends everybody to us. It’s been really good for business.”
As the day comes to a close on Dursey Island, so does the cable car. Tomorrow, the community will come together once again, swapping stories and entertaining tourists, in the knowledge no man truly is an island.