No Man’s Land

River Liffey

PITCHED ON a sandycoloured mound in the Liffey, Fergal McCarthy’s tent looked distinctly precarious. Hurricane Katia’s ferocity ensured that McCarthy had to temporarily quit his desert island. McCarthy ambitiously aimed to establish himself on his island for the duration of the festival. That’s a long time, and there are shades of Big Brother about proposing to live in the public eye for two whole weeks. Moored just inland of Calatrava’s Samuel Beckett Bridge, the island, sporting two palm trees as well as a small orange tent, is close to the Convention Centre and a host of other emblems of the boom and bust years. He aims to focus attention on the Liffey, which he regards as a neglected treasure.

His long-term strategy is aimed at prompting Dubliners to regard the Liffey not as a border but as a shared resource. He’s chosen a personally challenging but very effective way of doing so.