These tarred cow-hide crafts go out with a crew of four to six every day of the year. They run nets and they throw hand lines. When crabs get caught in their net they crush them as vermin. Aran islanders have no taste for lobster or crab meat and have traditionally shunned them. For their daring, the Atlantic claims a certain number of islanders every year.
Island life is rustic.
They live without running water, electricity, cars or trucks, roads of any real dimension and any of the evils that civilization brings with it. Ruins of ninth century monks houses made of stone dot the landscape. Efforts at growing vegetables began centuries ago and continue today as the women of the island fight a constant battle with the elements. Each year they haul sea weed up to the stone enclosures probably built by monks for the same purpose many centuries ago. The seaweed rots into rudimentary soil which supports growing for a few years until the relentless wind blows the soil back into the sea.