Cork Prison
Online photograph of one of the two entrances into the prison.
In 1806 a military barracks was opened by the British Government on Rathmore Road, Cork City, the new complex included a Detention Barracks for use by the military. In 1916, during a round-up following the Easter Rising, the RIC went to arrest the nationalist Kent family at their home in Castleyons, County Cork. The family resisted and in an ensuing shoot-out, Richard Kent and Constable William Rowe were killed. The following week Thomas Kent was convicted of the murder of Constable Rowe. He was executed and buried at the military prison of Victoria Barracks (now Cork Prison). During the Irish War of Independence a number of executions were carried out at the prison and nearby barracks. Following independence in 1922, the barracks and the associated prison were taken over by the Irish Government and the complex was renamed Collins Army Barracks. The detention barracks remained in the possession of the Irish Army until 1972.
The military prison buildings, previously part of the broader barracks, were handed over to the Department of Justice for use as a civil prison. Collins Barracks itself remained in the control of the Irish Army, with the prison facility serviced with separate access via Rathmore Road. The prison facility opened as a committal prison after considerable refurbishment in 1983. In the following decades, overcrowding became an issue. Though the official bed capacity was 272, in 2009 for example, the prison had a daily average inmate population of 298. The practice of "slopping out" was noted as a concern, and in 2011 a visiting committee described some parts of the 19th century facility as "archaic and Dickensian". The old Cork Prison building closed on 12 February 2016 after 210 years of operation as a military detention facility (since 1806) and a civilian prison (since 1972). It has since been used as a filming location, including for the films Maze (2017) and Michael Inside (2017).
In 2016, the older prison buildings were replaced by a new facility - constructed directly across Rathmore Road from the original prison. The new €45m prison facility is located on a 6-acre site. Built by PJ Hegarty and Sons in 20 months, it has improved monitoring facilities, and an operational capacity of 310 inmates. James Collins retired as Governor of Cork prison in March 2016 and has been replaced by Governor Patrick Dawson.
Cork Prison indicated, with the barracks at the top of the image and the modern replacement at the bottom.
Well, where to begin? Probably going to go all in with the write-up of this one, because unlike the classic '1. find place 2. visit place 3. access place 4. report findings' tale, this one took something out of us, particularly me. Plus, I think it's just a nice story that, I'd assume, many on here can sympathise with. If you have typically skipped whatever shit I've put on here before the photographs, maybe read this one.
Cork Prison probably first cropped up in 2019, when I would have been looking for backups if Marina didn't go to plan. We only ended up seeing Marina and the Prison in 2022 when we visited the lovely city of Cork for the first time. Despite being expensive, the city centre with a vast waterway passing through is lovely and would be a cute city break anyway, made better naturally by the abundance of derelict industry on the waterfront, bus graveyard, hospital, and prison. We'll probably put up some more Cork soon, but I'd advise anyone to go.
Anyway, accompanied by @jtza and Alex on what was becoming our regular yearly visit to Ireland, we were gazing up at the building that did seem totally abandoned, with dated cameras, a lack of security presence and what seemed to be overgrowth in the courtyard through a miniscule window at one of the gates. It was clearly old-fashioned too, with the architectural details we could see over the wall looking enticing and the fact that it must have been at the end of it's lifespan with the city constructing a new prison right next door. Surveying the structure in every possible inch we could get to, there was just no getting past that wall. I recall climbing up some mismatch of traffic cones and pallets we had found to try and ascend as high as possible, with Theo below laughing at me as I claimed that this cabling I could almost reach would support me... and then I reached it and the whole thing came falling down. It was like that for a while. 'Ohhhh, this wall looks slightly shorter. This is it, this is it!' Shuffle up the deadwood pallets and realise you were no higher than you had been two metres to your left.
Eventually we gave up... for the day. Later on, we would scour around Cork attempting to find some help, planning to return at night. As the evening approached, we drove back to the location. Having found the ideal spot, we gracefully glided up onto the roof. Although the road around the abandoned prison is the same road used by the modern one, we had managed to avoid detection and were now shadowed on the roof, past the wall. Surely, we would get in now. This was 2022, so I don't remember everything, but I would imagine with the amount of roof space we had encountered, there would have been no doubt that we would not access the building. Until this point, the prison had been any other place with that '1. find place 2. visit place 3. access place 4. report findings' normality. Part '3' had been a challenge but when is it not these days, and now we were destined to be inside before sunrise. Then, everything changed really.
There are certain times that I can get absolutely infatuated with an abandoned building. It's no longer a 'that would be cool if we get in,' its a 'we have to get in there, no matter the cost.' Until we do get it and capture it, I can get pretty obsessed and grumpy if it doesn't go right and I will do virtually anything lawful, as dangerous as required, to obtain an access point, much to the horror of the lads with me. No one else would understand, and the boys I go out with can have it occasionally, but not on the same scale. I think I can address this in confidence with the elite veterans of the 28dayslater official non public urban exploration community, where there has to be a few of you that has had this at some point in your derp careers. Anyway where in the shit am I going with this. Cork Prison gave me this, but by far, the worst case I've ever had.
Back to the roof. Everything is sealed. It is the biggest cocktease of all cockteases. Doors are ajar, but welded. Skylights come off, but have metal bars beneath them. Dropping off the roof is possible for a height drop, but razor wire is everywhere nailed into the wall. There is definitely other things we were prepared to try, but low and behold, an 'OI' rings out. Confused because we were certain we were totally concealed on the roof in the darkness, we spin around and notice that there was one thing we hadn't considered. The prisoners steadily begin to stir as the sun rises and continue to shout at us, due to their perfectly placed viewpoint of the roof from the new block. Gutted, because we would no longer have a chance to return to the prison if we left now due to our ferry times, but knowing that the guards would probably be startled by a sudden 5am wake-up from every North facing cell on the top two floors, we figured the best thing to do was to evacuate the scene. Gliding back of the roof and packing things up, we cleared off and didn't wait to see if the guards had woke.
What truly sucked was that we had spent a considerable amount on our wings used to glide up onto the roof. We could have sold them or attempted to return them to Screwfix, but we knew we'd be back. We had seen too much potential to never return to the prison. Stashing our wings in an overgrown car park at the rear of the property, all we could do would be pray that they would remain there until we came back.
2023, we came back to Cork with one thing in mind. We would get into this prison. It was a fun little trip joined by @DustySensorPhotography this time. The biggest concern, almost ten months onward from our first visit. Would our wings still be there? Through Winter, they had been sat in the overgrown car park and hopefully, hadn't been exposed when the foliage got low. This was the first thing we checked after arriving in Cork and checking into our BNB. Incredibly, they remained exactly where we had left them, which was pretty hilarious as we had stashed them very hastily due to alerting the prisoners. Starting strongly, our confidence was high after this and we went to get a few hours sleep with good spirits.
The next morning, we were back. Swiftly hovering onto the roof with decent altitude, we had provided more than enough time to rinse the living shit out of the roof for new possibilities. We had no excuse that we were shouted away by the prisoners this time, and wanted to be, if anything, completely certain there was no way we could make it on our own accord. It was torturous. Almost the exact same again, but slightly closer. I started to really understand the 'It's a fucking prison' in @b3n 's HMP Camp Hill report, because you really start to see how drainpipes, ledges, windows, skylights, doors... everything you could maybe use to enter a building conventionally had tripled protection. They really did bits on the prison and you just had to applaud. After the applause, running out of time gradually, we continued searching and did come up with some new areas that we could try, but on another visit with more time. It was absolutely devastating thinking that the following morning, we would be getting up half the time we usually would AGAIN and not even with a convincing strategy to enter, just more loose ideas.
After descending and concealing the wings once more, probably at 6am or something, heads down, we sadly trenched to a very rainy Cork centre to have a depression McDonalds and brainstorm. It was decided that three of the four would return the next day at the same time, one soldier believing that sleep was more important than Cork Prison...
…and he was right. Almost. Back onto the roof again. Our brainstorming had been pointless, and those futile plans were deducted to be hopeless anyway. However, again, as if the prison knew we were getting desperate, offered us a few more opportunities to access new areas if we fancied risking our life. As mentioned, I was in full prison or death mode at this stage, and eventually, after a few psychotic moments, had covered every inch of every roof the prison had to offer, but still had no entrance. There are probably some pictures somewhere, but with @jtza , so maybe he can share below lol. It was ridiculous. We had never come across a property as sealed, but not deliberately, as this prison and we were so, so, so close to giving up, before we noticed another method we could try. Accompanied by a determined @DustySensorPhotography , with @jtza around the corner making sure nobody passed by on the side road, we attempted a very bait drop in full view of anyone that was passing. Incredibly, it worked. Two of us could do it with difficulty and ideally would find something to open to help the others join us inside later.
We had to descend once more and return later, due to something else, but this time, the return for the fourth time felt different. After three shaky attempts, each more risky than the prior, we now had a route that was guaranteed to get us in as long as we didn't get sighted. Thankfully, myself and @DustySensorPhotography cracked it finally on our third and final day of our dedicated trip, but it had been a group effort for years that had brought this one together. This might have been the greatest waffle though, and I'm really sorry, so here is what we found. It would have been tragic if it was stripped or crap, but I think there was just that tingling feeling that it was going to be really good, and we fucking deserved it, too.
Grand entrance to the prison block.
Second entrance to Cork Prison.
Yard.
Guard booth looking over the two football pitches outside.
Entering the large building first naturally, we came straight into contact with this cell block. It was very unique compared to prisons I've seen in the UK and seemed more American-styled. We could see the power worked and in every cell, the beds remained still.
Cell corridor. You can see where the cell numbers had been removed.
Notices still up on the board.
Governor's office.
Between the first block of cells we wandered into and the larger wing, there was a section of offices and a medical portion. I was very excited walking up to the 'Dentistry' sign on the door, but sadly the chair was gone. There was only few remains that indicated of what it could have been. As for the 'Treatment Room,' just a modern bed that I didn't snap.
Dental journal.
Into the main attraction.
To be continued.
Online photograph of one of the two entrances into the prison.
In 1806 a military barracks was opened by the British Government on Rathmore Road, Cork City, the new complex included a Detention Barracks for use by the military. In 1916, during a round-up following the Easter Rising, the RIC went to arrest the nationalist Kent family at their home in Castleyons, County Cork. The family resisted and in an ensuing shoot-out, Richard Kent and Constable William Rowe were killed. The following week Thomas Kent was convicted of the murder of Constable Rowe. He was executed and buried at the military prison of Victoria Barracks (now Cork Prison). During the Irish War of Independence a number of executions were carried out at the prison and nearby barracks. Following independence in 1922, the barracks and the associated prison were taken over by the Irish Government and the complex was renamed Collins Army Barracks. The detention barracks remained in the possession of the Irish Army until 1972.
The military prison buildings, previously part of the broader barracks, were handed over to the Department of Justice for use as a civil prison. Collins Barracks itself remained in the control of the Irish Army, with the prison facility serviced with separate access via Rathmore Road. The prison facility opened as a committal prison after considerable refurbishment in 1983. In the following decades, overcrowding became an issue. Though the official bed capacity was 272, in 2009 for example, the prison had a daily average inmate population of 298. The practice of "slopping out" was noted as a concern, and in 2011 a visiting committee described some parts of the 19th century facility as "archaic and Dickensian". The old Cork Prison building closed on 12 February 2016 after 210 years of operation as a military detention facility (since 1806) and a civilian prison (since 1972). It has since been used as a filming location, including for the films Maze (2017) and Michael Inside (2017).
In 2016, the older prison buildings were replaced by a new facility - constructed directly across Rathmore Road from the original prison. The new €45m prison facility is located on a 6-acre site. Built by PJ Hegarty and Sons in 20 months, it has improved monitoring facilities, and an operational capacity of 310 inmates. James Collins retired as Governor of Cork prison in March 2016 and has been replaced by Governor Patrick Dawson.
Cork Prison indicated, with the barracks at the top of the image and the modern replacement at the bottom.
Well, where to begin? Probably going to go all in with the write-up of this one, because unlike the classic '1. find place 2. visit place 3. access place 4. report findings' tale, this one took something out of us, particularly me. Plus, I think it's just a nice story that, I'd assume, many on here can sympathise with. If you have typically skipped whatever shit I've put on here before the photographs, maybe read this one.
Cork Prison probably first cropped up in 2019, when I would have been looking for backups if Marina didn't go to plan. We only ended up seeing Marina and the Prison in 2022 when we visited the lovely city of Cork for the first time. Despite being expensive, the city centre with a vast waterway passing through is lovely and would be a cute city break anyway, made better naturally by the abundance of derelict industry on the waterfront, bus graveyard, hospital, and prison. We'll probably put up some more Cork soon, but I'd advise anyone to go.
Anyway, accompanied by @jtza and Alex on what was becoming our regular yearly visit to Ireland, we were gazing up at the building that did seem totally abandoned, with dated cameras, a lack of security presence and what seemed to be overgrowth in the courtyard through a miniscule window at one of the gates. It was clearly old-fashioned too, with the architectural details we could see over the wall looking enticing and the fact that it must have been at the end of it's lifespan with the city constructing a new prison right next door. Surveying the structure in every possible inch we could get to, there was just no getting past that wall. I recall climbing up some mismatch of traffic cones and pallets we had found to try and ascend as high as possible, with Theo below laughing at me as I claimed that this cabling I could almost reach would support me... and then I reached it and the whole thing came falling down. It was like that for a while. 'Ohhhh, this wall looks slightly shorter. This is it, this is it!' Shuffle up the deadwood pallets and realise you were no higher than you had been two metres to your left.
Eventually we gave up... for the day. Later on, we would scour around Cork attempting to find some help, planning to return at night. As the evening approached, we drove back to the location. Having found the ideal spot, we gracefully glided up onto the roof. Although the road around the abandoned prison is the same road used by the modern one, we had managed to avoid detection and were now shadowed on the roof, past the wall. Surely, we would get in now. This was 2022, so I don't remember everything, but I would imagine with the amount of roof space we had encountered, there would have been no doubt that we would not access the building. Until this point, the prison had been any other place with that '1. find place 2. visit place 3. access place 4. report findings' normality. Part '3' had been a challenge but when is it not these days, and now we were destined to be inside before sunrise. Then, everything changed really.
There are certain times that I can get absolutely infatuated with an abandoned building. It's no longer a 'that would be cool if we get in,' its a 'we have to get in there, no matter the cost.' Until we do get it and capture it, I can get pretty obsessed and grumpy if it doesn't go right and I will do virtually anything lawful, as dangerous as required, to obtain an access point, much to the horror of the lads with me. No one else would understand, and the boys I go out with can have it occasionally, but not on the same scale. I think I can address this in confidence with the elite veterans of the 28dayslater official non public urban exploration community, where there has to be a few of you that has had this at some point in your derp careers. Anyway where in the shit am I going with this. Cork Prison gave me this, but by far, the worst case I've ever had.
Back to the roof. Everything is sealed. It is the biggest cocktease of all cockteases. Doors are ajar, but welded. Skylights come off, but have metal bars beneath them. Dropping off the roof is possible for a height drop, but razor wire is everywhere nailed into the wall. There is definitely other things we were prepared to try, but low and behold, an 'OI' rings out. Confused because we were certain we were totally concealed on the roof in the darkness, we spin around and notice that there was one thing we hadn't considered. The prisoners steadily begin to stir as the sun rises and continue to shout at us, due to their perfectly placed viewpoint of the roof from the new block. Gutted, because we would no longer have a chance to return to the prison if we left now due to our ferry times, but knowing that the guards would probably be startled by a sudden 5am wake-up from every North facing cell on the top two floors, we figured the best thing to do was to evacuate the scene. Gliding back of the roof and packing things up, we cleared off and didn't wait to see if the guards had woke.
What truly sucked was that we had spent a considerable amount on our wings used to glide up onto the roof. We could have sold them or attempted to return them to Screwfix, but we knew we'd be back. We had seen too much potential to never return to the prison. Stashing our wings in an overgrown car park at the rear of the property, all we could do would be pray that they would remain there until we came back.
2023, we came back to Cork with one thing in mind. We would get into this prison. It was a fun little trip joined by @DustySensorPhotography this time. The biggest concern, almost ten months onward from our first visit. Would our wings still be there? Through Winter, they had been sat in the overgrown car park and hopefully, hadn't been exposed when the foliage got low. This was the first thing we checked after arriving in Cork and checking into our BNB. Incredibly, they remained exactly where we had left them, which was pretty hilarious as we had stashed them very hastily due to alerting the prisoners. Starting strongly, our confidence was high after this and we went to get a few hours sleep with good spirits.
The next morning, we were back. Swiftly hovering onto the roof with decent altitude, we had provided more than enough time to rinse the living shit out of the roof for new possibilities. We had no excuse that we were shouted away by the prisoners this time, and wanted to be, if anything, completely certain there was no way we could make it on our own accord. It was torturous. Almost the exact same again, but slightly closer. I started to really understand the 'It's a fucking prison' in @b3n 's HMP Camp Hill report, because you really start to see how drainpipes, ledges, windows, skylights, doors... everything you could maybe use to enter a building conventionally had tripled protection. They really did bits on the prison and you just had to applaud. After the applause, running out of time gradually, we continued searching and did come up with some new areas that we could try, but on another visit with more time. It was absolutely devastating thinking that the following morning, we would be getting up half the time we usually would AGAIN and not even with a convincing strategy to enter, just more loose ideas.
After descending and concealing the wings once more, probably at 6am or something, heads down, we sadly trenched to a very rainy Cork centre to have a depression McDonalds and brainstorm. It was decided that three of the four would return the next day at the same time, one soldier believing that sleep was more important than Cork Prison...
…and he was right. Almost. Back onto the roof again. Our brainstorming had been pointless, and those futile plans were deducted to be hopeless anyway. However, again, as if the prison knew we were getting desperate, offered us a few more opportunities to access new areas if we fancied risking our life. As mentioned, I was in full prison or death mode at this stage, and eventually, after a few psychotic moments, had covered every inch of every roof the prison had to offer, but still had no entrance. There are probably some pictures somewhere, but with @jtza , so maybe he can share below lol. It was ridiculous. We had never come across a property as sealed, but not deliberately, as this prison and we were so, so, so close to giving up, before we noticed another method we could try. Accompanied by a determined @DustySensorPhotography , with @jtza around the corner making sure nobody passed by on the side road, we attempted a very bait drop in full view of anyone that was passing. Incredibly, it worked. Two of us could do it with difficulty and ideally would find something to open to help the others join us inside later.
We had to descend once more and return later, due to something else, but this time, the return for the fourth time felt different. After three shaky attempts, each more risky than the prior, we now had a route that was guaranteed to get us in as long as we didn't get sighted. Thankfully, myself and @DustySensorPhotography cracked it finally on our third and final day of our dedicated trip, but it had been a group effort for years that had brought this one together. This might have been the greatest waffle though, and I'm really sorry, so here is what we found. It would have been tragic if it was stripped or crap, but I think there was just that tingling feeling that it was going to be really good, and we fucking deserved it, too.
Grand entrance to the prison block.
Second entrance to Cork Prison.
Yard.
Guard booth looking over the two football pitches outside.
Entering the large building first naturally, we came straight into contact with this cell block. It was very unique compared to prisons I've seen in the UK and seemed more American-styled. We could see the power worked and in every cell, the beds remained still.
Cell corridor. You can see where the cell numbers had been removed.
Notices still up on the board.
Governor's office.
Between the first block of cells we wandered into and the larger wing, there was a section of offices and a medical portion. I was very excited walking up to the 'Dentistry' sign on the door, but sadly the chair was gone. There was only few remains that indicated of what it could have been. As for the 'Treatment Room,' just a modern bed that I didn't snap.
Dental journal.
Into the main attraction.
To be continued.
