Matt Murphy's extraordinary legacy on Sherkin Island will serve marine Ireland well 

Matt grew up close to where my mother was raised on Eason’s Hill on the northside of Cork City. I have been reliably informed that back in the day, taking the bus across the river to Blackrock village was regarded by many northsiders as an expedition to the countryside. Matt was drawn further south and west, following his love of the natural and outdoor environment. As a young management trainee in Dunlops, he would hitch a lift on a Friday after work. On eventually reaching the village of Baltimore, he would canoe across the harbour, sometimes in the black of night, to spend the weekend on Sherkin. Eventually, he left the lure of American corporate progression to forge his own path, and that he did.

As a first-year undergraduate of marine geography in Cardiff University, I saw an advert in the New Scientist magazine, seeking experienced marine and environmental researchers for summer work. I clearly remember, undeterred by my rookie status, my first pitch to Matt from the pay phone in my hall of residence, and hearing his renowned Cork drawl reflect a combination of sternness, bemusement, and devilment as he told me that he didn’t think I fitted the bill for a Bod, but that I could phone back again. I did. And again. And again. Eventually, he relented and told me to come across on the ferry from Baltimore as soon as I was back in Cork for the summer.

That was the summer of my life. Balancing a gear bag on each handle of the bike I took across on the ferry on a glittering summer day, I was in awe of the natural beauty and peace of Sherkin. I got to know it and the surrounding islands well, as a member of the rocky foreshore ecology team. I also got to know other facets of island life, including the musician in the Jolly Roger pub, who subsequently became my husband.

Matt offered us Bods bed and board, and pocket money of £10 for the week. However, he gave us so much more than that. In my case, he gave me an extraordinary head start in the world of marine science. That summer, he opened the door to a world of enduring friendships and memories to be created over the subsequent three decades with the Sherkin community. He was a mentor before mentorship became ‘a thing’. In 2017, he phoned me out of the blue when I was working in University College Cork, with advice and support that couldn’t have arrived at a better time. He had an uncanny ability to keep in touch with what was going on, despite his remote location.

Over recent years, I have relished my walks across the island to Matt’s house on my many visits to Sherkin to share perspectives on the management of Ireland’s marine environment and political affairs of the day. His passion, knowledge, rebellious nature, and deep curiosity provided the backbone for lively discussions, even when he was well into his eighties. He was genuinely interested in what I was up to, and he would question me on institutional politics with a twinkle in his eye, relishing the fact that he ran the marine station independent of the State system.

This independence of spirit was a signature characteristic of Matt’s. He did things his way, learning by doing, without the traditional academic qualifications usually required to enter the world of marine science. He became a fountain of knowledge. The data he gathered provided a unique environmental baseline, helped to manage fisheries at risk from toxic phytoplankton blooms, and served as a weathervane for meteorological models.

International recognition

The international recognition that he achieved for his work put the lack of similar accolades from the home front into sharp relief. Despite his abundance of publications and conference papers, he was poised on the periphery of the Irish academic system. This vantage point empowered Matt to observe and challenge decisions on public policy and resourcing of marine science, planning, and management. His critical voice gained him immense respect, as he was not afraid to shy away from controversy when necessary.

He used this status to amplify his message about the need to protect our marine resources and to create jobs from the sea for coastal communities. It was a remarkable feat to run the marine station, with its laboratories, library, boat dock, and diving equipment, without any government grants. This was the result of passion, a strong sense of purpose, and a considerable amount of hard work by Matt and his entire family.

His stories about his various enterprises, including the first horse-drawn caravan holidays along the river Blackwater and an outdoor pursuits centre in Sherkin, were always interspersed with updates on how his family was doing. For all that he was a pioneering environmentalist, indefatigable entrepreneur, prolific writer, and visionary marine leader, he was first and foremost a family man.

He was proud of his seven children now living on the island and in the US; and he had the unwavering support of Susan Murphy Wickens, his eldest daughter, the exceptional and industrious talent that ensured everything ran smoothly in the background. This included the publication of 35 years of phytoplankton records for the South-West coast of Ireland in 2023, an internationally unique dataset, now hosted by the National Biodiversity Data Centre. This was one of many exceptional achievements by Susan and Matt.

We mourn the loss of one of the most important voices on Ireland’s marine environment, but marine Ireland will continue to benefit from his legacy for many years to come. Ar dheis Dé go raibh a anam. Rest in peace, Matt.

• Val Cummins is chief impact officer at Simply Blue Group and an Eisenhower Fellow.