VIDEO: Why I love my Heir Island home off Cork coast
Sarah Matthews who runs Heir Island Retreat on Heir Island, West Cork. Picture Dan Linehan
FOR many years, yoga teacher Sarah Matthews nurtured the dream of creating a space where she could share the enjoyment of the magical natural world surrounding her home on Heir Island.
In 2012, that dream became a reality when Heir Island Retreat was born. It’s a beautiful space for yoga and meditation retreats and has self-catering accommodation. It can be used for many purposes, but also to simply chill out, enjoy stunning views, and listen to the sounds of the seabirds and the ocean waves crashing up against the rugged island coastline.
Since childhood, Sarah has enjoyed the gorgeous landscape of the little island, spending idyllic summer days there with her family at their island holiday home, which they frequented since her adventurous parents purchased it in the 1960s.
Her family, who hailed from the UK, loved going on camping holidays, and one particular time whilst camping just across the water in nearby Cunnamore, her parents Frank and Jean found their way to Heir Island where they were instantly smitten with the landscape and the pace of life.
Fortuitously, they heard about a house for sale on the island and decided to buy it. It had been previously used to store hay, so it was a labour of love doing it up.
It was such a special place, and still is of course, but looking back now on those summers we spent there as kids, I have nothing but fond memories of great times and of the islanders who lived there and whom we got to know and love.
“We had great freedom to roam around the place, we were taken on fishing trips and I loved seeing the phosphorescence glowing in the water.”
Although many of the wonderful and kind people from Heir who Sarah knew from her childhood, have since either left the island, or have passed on, her time spent with them has left an indelible warm memory in her heart.

She recalls watching Charlie Minihan planting potatoes and milking the cows as the days gently unfolded with the rhythm of the work and the setting of the sun.
“Lots of islanders had a donkey which used to carry things around the place and women fetched water from the pumps,” she said.
She recalls her dad helping people to fill out forms, and in return getting gifted with carrageen moss, periwinkles and fresh milk by way of thanks.
The special quality inherent in the natural beauty of Heir Island endured in Sarah’s heart, and in 2008 she returned from the UK to make the island her full-time home.
Sarah is one of only 15 full time residents who live on the island during the winter, with the population swelling during the summer months as visitors make their way across the tiny stretch of water from Cunnamore pier to immerse themselves in the pure intoxication of the natural world which is to be found there.
Heir island is situated in Roaringwater Bay, off the south-west coast of County Cork, and the bay is aptly named, suiting the wild appearance of the sea often witnessed during the strong gales which rise up in the Atlantic Ocean.

Only a five minute ferry journey from Cunnamore pier, Sarah enjoys welcoming visitors who come to stay at her retreat centre which she runs along with her husband Paul.
Over the years, the availability of her yoga retreat space has spread through word of mouth, and Sarah is delighted to be able to run a business which is in keeping with the gentle way of life on the island.
She recalls her childhood days spent there with great fondness when the population was more buoyant than now.
“I have so many great memories of Heir in the days when there was a bigger population. In those days there was both a shop and a post office. In the 1970s there was no running water nor electricity on the island.

“These days we have high speed broadband which makes life so much easier, but we don’t have a shop or post office. Everything comes in on the ferry, or on your own boat, but you would never be stuck for anything. Although the full-time population is small, people here pull together.
When we first moved here, we were lucky enough to have our own well, but many people used the pump on the main road, and there was also a pump in Paris, which is a townland on the island, not the French capital.
“Everybody had these big oil drums which were used to collect rainwater, which is what we now refer to as sustainable practice.

“I recall Bridie O’Neill’s shop, which had a corrugated iron lean-to on the side of the house and a long counter. Bridie and Christie who ran the shop were lovely people and the shop was at the heart of the community.
“Women would take the butter which they had made themselves and exchange it for groceries.
“I recall the delicious aroma of the freshly baked bread from Field’s of Skibbereen, which was stored in these giant tea chests in the shop. There were always tins of peas and beans to fall back on if supplies were needed, but most people grew a few vegetables. There were bars of chocolate on offer, mint crisps were one of my favourites, a lovely treat, and they were worth the walk over as far as the shop to buy.
The post office would be kept busy giving out pensions and sending parcels, which would have to be put onto the ferry. There was also a telephone there, those were the days before everybody had mobiles and you had to head over to O’Neill’s in order to make a call.
The post office closed in 1988, and that was the end of an era on Heir island.
Electricity finally came to the island in 1976, and piped water soon followed in 1983. The little school closed its doors forever too in 1976, and for some years afterwards it was used as a meeting place for the islanders.

“People used to gather to play cards in amicable companionship with no need to fill the silence, there was a certain contentment in those moments. People talk about trying to be in ‘the present moment’ these days, but Heir islanders knew how to be mindful without having to force anything, it was just a natural way of being,” said Sarah.
“I remember the weddings on the island too. Couples used to go out to the mainland to the church in Lisheen or Kilcoe to get married. I’ll never forget the sight of the bride in all her glory wearing her beautiful white wedding dress and being helped off the boat by her groom at the pier to go and celebrate the wedding party, which was often held in the bride’s house on the island.
“And I remember vividly the ‘Hauling Home’ which was a welcome home party often held for a Heir island bride returning from America where she had been married, and then coming back home to celebrate her wedding with her family on the island, these were really special times.”
Sarah recalled other social gatherings on Heir, and one of the highlights of those was the Stations where Mass was celebrated in the house. This custom actually dates back to Penal times, when it was forbidden to practise the Catholic religion, so Mass was not celebrated in public but in a private house, or else in the open air in a secret location.
“There would be great preparations done for the Stations, the house would be scrubbed from top to bottom and the walls would be painted. There was lots of food prepared for the meal after the Mass, and I can remember singing and dancing and great fun late on into the night.
“Each house would have the Stations in turn and they were held twice a year, in Spring and Autumn. The Mass would be said early in the day, and then the meal was had, and the night of the stations was an important social event with people having a party in ‘the Station House’.

“These days, I do miss the people that used to live here.
There is so much to offer on this island, but without the availability of accommodation it is difficult to know what lies in the future for the island.
“I think the Covid years brought one positive thing in that people realised that you could work from home and here on the island we have excellent broadband.
“The only thing I miss about life on the mainland is being spontaneous, if you just feel like a meal out or catching a play in Cork you have to make sure to plan ahead, but it’s only a small thing compared with the wonderful life that we enjoy here.
“I really love this island, and my hope is that it will endure into the future, and that people wishing to live here will be supported to do so.”

App?

