Stone Age wellness therapy is making a comeback

Asia London Palomba

COUNTY SLIGO, Ireland - It’s a bitingly cold day on Enniscrone Beach. Thick sheets of rain fly sideways, and violent gusts of wind make the waves churn and crash onto the shore. In other words, it’s a good day for a hot bath.

Just a few steps away from the golden sands that form one of Ireland’s most popular Victorian-era seaside resorts is Kilcullen Seaweed Baths. Vacationers and weary laborers have been flocking to this bathhouse since 1912, the year the Titanic sank, to indulge in one of Ireland’s indigenous wellness therapies: a seawater and seaweed bath.

Now run by the fifth generation of Kilcullens, it’s Ireland’s oldest continually operating seaweed bathhouse. Not much has changed since the structure first opened its doors. Most of its Edwardian charm has been preserved, including cavernous porcelain-enameled bathtubs, gleaming brass taps, tiled walls and reproductions of 19th century wooden steam boxes. The seaweed is still hand-harvested every day from Enniscrone Beach, while the seawater is pumped into the structure on a high tide and then heated by steam.

Smells like the sea

As I stand over my bath at Kilcullen’s, peering down at the massive glob of seaweed gently undulating in the water, I start to recoil. I’ve always jumped away when feeling seaweed brush up against me in the ocean, and the thought of sitting in a bundle of it makes me nervous. There’s a slightly briny smell coming from the water, now the color of freshly brewed tea. It’s similar to low tide, which isn’t unpleasant - it smells like the sea.

I’ve already opened up my pores in the steam box when I gently lower myself into the bath and sit back, letting the hot seawater lap at my neck as my arms and legs fan out. The seaweed is slightly oily and silky as it glides over my skin, and I’m surprised at how much I like it as my muscles and joints, achy after 10 days of rigorous seacliff hiking, go slack.

Enjoyed formally in Ireland since at least the early 19th century, seaweed baths have long been considered a natural cure for rheumatic pains, muscle aches, and skin conditions such as psoriasis and eczema. Seaweed has some of the most micronutrition of any plant on the planet, rich in vitamins and minerals. After an hour or two of sitting in a steaming seaweed bath, our porous skin is able to absorb all of this gooey goodness, which is why the Irish have lauded it as an essential spa experience for generations.

Now, a new wave of second generation bathhouses are sprouting up along the country’s western coast, reviving the centuries-old practice of Thalassotherapy - harnessing the sea for its healing powers.

Reviving an Irish tradition

Ireland is home to over 600 kinds of seaweed, many of which are edible and loaded with minerals, fibers, and vitamins that support gut and thyroid health and fight inflammation. Historians say seaweed has been consumed and used for medical purposes in the country as far back as the Mesolithic period, the middle of the Stone Age that began around 8,000 B.C., and there’s evidence of Irish monks harvesting seaweed in the 12th century, according to seaweed advocate Prannie Rhatigan.

While it’s unclear when people started taking seaweed baths, dedicated bathhouses began popping up in seaside resorts like Enniscrone and Strandhill in the early 19th century.

“[Seaweed baths] are the original Thalassotherapy treatments of Western Europe,” says Brian Foyle, founder of Connemara Seaweed Baths, a bathhouse that opened in Clifden, about a 175-mile drive west from Dublin, in 2021. “It was a well-known fact at that time that iodine was highly concentrated in seaweeds.”

Rhatigan says vacationers and laborers used to flock to the coasts after the grueling harvest season, which ran from August to the end of October, to let their weary bodies recover.

By the early 1900s, there were about 300 bathhouses across Ireland, explains Neil Walton, founder of VOYA Seaweed Baths. Thalassotherapy began declining in popularity in the mid-20th century as showers replaced baths and travel to seaside resorts in continental Europe became more popular, Walton says. By 1989, Ireland had two surviving bathhouses, one of which was Kilcullen’s.

“Ireland lost its awareness of natural remedies,” Walton said.

Founded in 2000, VOYA’s were the first commercial Irish seaweed baths in nearly 100 years, Walton says.

Today, there are about a dozen bathhouses in Ireland, the majority of which are found in the west.

“Seaweed bathing places are being revived as people become more educated about the benefits of Thalassotherapy on the skin,” Rhatigan says.

‘The good goopy stuff’

There are two main requirements for taking a proper seaweed bath: hot seawater and fresh seaweed.

“Fresh water doesn’t work, because in order for all the goodness to leach out of the seaweed, the pH of the water needs to be right,” Foyle explains. The water in Clifden is brackish, so Foyle sources his seawater from an incoming tide 9 miles west. Once it’s been used for a bath, it’s released back into the sea.

“What comes from the sea goes back to the sea,” he says.

The premier seaweed for bathing in Ireland is the fucus serratus, known commonly as tooth wrack. It’s a flat, leafy olive-brown plant with serrated edges that has a high percentage of calcinate alginate gel, what Walton calls “the good goopy stuff.” This gelatinous substance is especially prized for reducing pain and supporting wound healing. Tooth wrack grows abundantly on Ireland’s western coast, thriving in the cleaner waters of the Atlantic Ocean.

Walton and his team hand-harvest it at low tide from Sligo Bay, using the same methods employed since the 19th century.

The seaweed is steamed before a bath to open up its pore-like system so it can release its store of minerals and alginate gel into the water. This creates a bath that is viscous and a gradually darkening golden amber. “It’s like bathing in a rich, warm soup,” Walton says.

Health benefits

Studies and generations’ worth of anecdotal evidence suggest that seaweed detoxifies and moisturizes the skin, speeds healing, provides muscle and joint relief, and improves circulation. Foyle was sold on the healing benefits of seaweed bathing after it cured him of a hangover earned from a two-day wedding.

Walton, a former professional triathlete, became obsessed with the sports recovery potential of seaweed bathing after hearing about it from a fellow Irish athlete. He remembers feeling “absolutely amazing” after his first seaweed baths nearly three decades ago.

When taking a bath, it’s encouraged to stay hydrated “because your body will go through a detoxification process,” Walton explains. It’s also recommended to rub the seaweed over your skin and hair and to not shower for up to a day to allow the body to fully absorb the bath’s broth of minerals. Your skin should emerge from the bath feeling supple and smooth, even after marinating in saltwater.

Because a seaweed bath involves hot water and steam, it’s not recommended for people who have Type 1 diabetes, are in their first trimester of pregnancy, have had surgery in the previous six weeks, have hypothyroidism or have an underlying heart condition. The extreme heat can accelerate the heart rate and endanger such people.

Most bathhouses in Ireland will have guests fill out a health consultation form beforehand. Walton suggests that those with high or low blood pressure, or those who are in their second and third trimester of pregnancy, should exercise caution and take a bath at a cooler temperature.

Prices for an hour-long soak and steam in Ireland range between $35 and $75. Some bathhouses offer additional spa treatments, including full-body seaweed masks and seaweed-oil massages and facials. Today, bathhouses cater to a varied clientele, from couples and families to older individuals with chronic aches to Gaelic football players seeking to aid their post-training bodies, Walton and Foyle say.

The left over seaweed

At bathhouses, seaweed is used once per bather. It is then either returned to the sea or dried and sold to farmers as fertilizer. Foyle encourages guests to take their bath’s seaweed to their gardens.

“Seaweed was harvested quite heavily during and after the Famine times because it’s a great fertilizer, especially for potatoes,” he says.

Walton is no stranger to seaweed’s horticultural benefits. His father, Mick Walton, was a champion gardener who won several national gardening championships by only using seaweed as fertilizer.

For Walton, the seaweed-bath resurgence is an opportunity to share Ireland’s unique and oft-overlooked indigenous wellness therapy with everyone near and far.

“My attitude from day one was that I never wanted to make seaweed baths exclusive in any way, shape, or form,” he says. “Every time that we fill a seaweed bath up, I know in my heart and soul that it’s not a gimmick, that we’re not just in it for the money, that it’s really going to be a benefit to the person.”