When planning a landscape photography trip in Ireland, the weather tends to dictate everything. Our morning started at Downpatrick Head in County Mayo. We had all risen for sunrise, but the light didn’t deliver anything worth rushing out for. Rather than fight the conditions, we took the rare opportunity to enjoy a relaxed morning in the vans. Diarmuid cooked up breakfast, as he often does on our trips, while I took up cleaning duties.

There was no set destination that day—we had only a general idea of heading north towards Donegal. A short stop in Sligo was required to pick up gas, as Diarmuid had a steak dinner planned. From there, I suggested we head to Bloody Foreland, a place I’d visited years ago with Diarmuid. Patrick hadn’t been before, and based on the forecast—high tide, strong swell, and clear skies—it seemed like the perfect choice.

Bloody Foreland is located on the northwest coast of Donegal. The headland is known for its granite cliffs and the way they light up with colour at sunset, hence the name. What’s less well-known is a natural sea arch tucked beneath the cliffs. It’s partially submerged during high tide, but even then, the power of the Atlantic and the structure’s form make for strong images. It’s a location where conditions either deliver or don’t—but on this visit, everything seemed to be lining up.

After arriving and enjoying our steak dinner—again, perfectly cooked by Diarmuid—we packed up the gear and made our way down to the cliffs. It didn’t take long before both Diarmuid and Patrick were engaged in the location. Diarmuid was immediately drawn to the arch, camera already in hand. Patrick took a different approach—exploration first. I handed him my action camera so he could document his findings, and it wasn’t long before he disappeared from view, climbing around to investigate a better angle.

That’s when the learning started, for all of us. Patrick found a sketchy but passable route to the top of the arch. From where I stood, I could now include him in the frame, giving a sense of scale to the scene. Scale in seascape photography is often hard to communicate, so having a human figure framed above the arch was a fortunate addition.

Wave activity was picking up as we approached high tide. That was the look I was going for: drama. I set my shutter speed to 0.5 seconds, which has become my go-to setting when trying to balance flow and texture in moving water. It’s a compromise that still feels dynamic. I looked for structure in the foreground and found a triangular rock formation below me. I went for a vertical composition to include it at the base, with the sea arch mid-frame, and the flow of water tying both elements together. With no real drama in the sky, my focus stayed on texture, movement, and light direction.

Just then, Patrick’s shout broke the calm; he’d taken a full wave, soaking him from head to toe. Fortunately, we were all well kitted out, and his technical clothing handled it well. He was dry within minutes and laughing it off. These moments become part of the experience. You can’t plan them, but they shape the memories and the story you get to tell later.

As light conditions continued to improve, I decided to launch the drone. Aerial views from this area reveal just how intricate the coastline is. The drone allowed me to visualise compositions I couldn’t see from the ground. I had one image in mind from the moment we arrived, but I needed better sun positioning and less intense light.

Once the conditions aligned, I made my way to a specific outcrop—a narrow gully that created a natural funnel for the incoming waves. The arch wouldn’t be visible from here, but the power of the sea could still be showcased. As I set up, Patrick was again filming. He later commented that the rock I was standing on looked like a bridge, with a visible void below me. That sense of exposure added to the drama of the final images.

Then, the moment happened. A larger wave built in the distance and surged toward the rocks. It exploded against the cliff face directly below my position, spraying water high into the air. I captured the shot I had hoped for. Miraculously, I stayed dry, even though the water had engulfed the area all around me.

We ended the evening reviewing our images and footage. Patrick was delighted—he’d stepped well outside his usual photographic subject matter and came away with something unique. Diarmuid, too, had found new angles on a location he’d previously visited. I was satisfied not just with the images but with the experience. We had chosen the location based on instinct, forecast, and flexibility, and the outcome justified the decision.

We packed up and walked back to the vans under the fading light, already discussing where we might head next. That’s what these trips are about: following the conditions, trusting your decisions, and embracing the unexpected.

You can see all the images I captured in the gallery below, and you can watch the adventure unfold in this week’s video

This Irish Rocky Coastline Hides a Big Surprise!