The grave was spotted on the island’s south side, where the relentless Atlantic tides had worn away the earth to expose the stone structure in cross-section. By the time archaeologists arrived, some human remains had already been washed out by the sea and recovered by locals, who wisely brought them to Donegal County Museum for safekeeping.

The rectangular stone cist, measuring roughly 1.7 metres long by 0.4 metres wide, had been carefully constructed with its long axis running east to west. Though erosion had damaged the southern wall, leaving only two collapsed stones, the northern side remained relatively intact with three edge-set stone slabs, each about half a metre long, positioned with their flat sides facing inward. The builders had layered flat stones above the side walls, creating a substantial structure, though curiously the ends appeared to have been left open; a single flat stone near the western end may have originally sealed that opening before collapsing. Inside, the woman had been laid to rest in an extended position, oriented west to east with her skull at the western end, though no grave goods or artefacts accompanied her burial.

This wasn’t the first such discovery in the area; archaeologist Raghnall Ó Floinn had excavated several similar lintel graves at the same location back in 1988, suggesting this windswept island served as a burial ground for an ancient community. The exposed grave, designated NMI 1995:175, offers a poignant glimpse into burial practices from Ireland’s past, whilst also serving as a reminder of how coastal erosion continues to reveal, and simultaneously threaten, the archaeological treasures hidden beneath our shores.