There it is again, the long swell of the Atlantic. Once you’re out of the shelter of the land, the ‘Chronos’ bows to the trade winds. The sails of the Bermuda ketch fill, with the standing and running rigging straining against the load. We head north close-hauled, the sea a deep blue. Boa Vista remains astern, its pale silhouette and the dazzling white belt of surf off Praia de Atalanta.
The ‘Cape at the End of the World’
And right in the midst of the veil of spray, like a rock, lies the wreck of the ‘Cabo Santa Maria’ – or rather, its rusty remains. Almost sixty years ago, the Spanish cargo ship ran aground at this remote spot, also known as ‘the Cape at the End of the World’. Just as it is now growing ever smaller behind the stern, it will in fact have vanished again in the not-too-distant future, erased from the landscape by nature itself.
Where the ‘Cabo Santa Maria’s’ journey ended, the second half of our own begins: we’ll be spending ten days on board the ‘Chronos’, one of Sailing Classics’ three classic yet state-of-the-art yachts, exploring the Cape Verde Islands on a cabin charter. It is a destination so remote that, even with all the time in the world, it remains beyond the reach of most sailors, even those sailing their own boats.
A name for every island
Explorers, however, will find plenty to enjoy, for just as the ocean laps gently around the widely scattered archipelago, so too are its islands diverse. Our starting point was Mindelo, not only the archipelago’s most important port and the capital of São Vicente, but also the centre of Cape Verde’s most important cultural heritage: music!
Each of the nine inhabited islets of this small republic has its own nickname. From the ‘Island of Music’, we – two dozen passengers and a dozen crew members – set sail aboard our 54-metre yacht for São Nicolau, the ‘Island of Two Faces’, with one fertile side and one rocky side, and on to Boa Vista, the ‘Desert Island’, which lies closest to Africa.
Relocation to Palmeira
Above the bowsprit, rising and falling to the gentle rhythm of the Atlantic, the next coastline is now visible ahead: it is Sal, the ‘holiday island’ – at least by Cape Verdean standards. As we are running late, the ‘Chronos’ spends the falling night at anchor off the tourist resort of Santa Maria in the south, whilst the lights of the hotels and beach bars flicker across from the shore.
Early in the morning we move on to Palmeira, a commercial port with a breakwater and a pier. Moored there are two cargo ships with their own loading gear, as there are no cranes. Unlike Santa Maria, however, yachts here can use a dinghy to get from the roadstead into the harbour. There, a small bar with plastic chairs, children, a pile of fishing nets, white houses and a chapel await. Oil tanks line the beach. A souvenir shop beckons with the owner’s evocative drumming. His magnets, T-shirts and beach towels make it clear: “No stress!”
No black eye for us
We set off northwards in the minibus, weaving our way through the potholes along the coast to Buracona and the Blue Eye, a glowing blue grotto on the coast. Surprise: a proper visitor centre with a car park awaits us. Then again, Sal is the holidaymakers’ island – so if not here, then where?
We’re led through a market hall selling souvenirs and housing a café, then a wooden walkway takes us across the coastal lava rocks. We take a dip in a tidal pool. We’ve arrived at the eye too early; the sun isn’t high enough yet. In the grotto below, we can only make out some graffiti and a blue shimmer. It looks lovely, though – in photos taken around midday.
Famous for mirages
Off to the east coast. Dry bushes and scattered trees jut out of the rust-coloured plain. The place is said to be famous for mirages. Perhaps the volcanic cone on the horizon is a mirage. Or the desert fort surrounded by walls? No, that’s real too: ‘Prisão, prison,’ explains the driver. It’s the country’s largest prison.
We’re heading towards the small town of Espargos. The transition from the desert to the town is indistinct; abandoned ruins, half-built houses, rusty metal, plastic sheeting flapping in the wind. Then come the blocks of flats, and beneath our tyres the dust gives way to tarmac. A supermarket, a cinema, boys in football shirts and girls in school uniforms. Our bus carries on towards the coast: Shark Bay is our destination.
The Sharks’ Nursery
This is where the lemon sharks are raised, away from deeper water and safe from the barracudas. After all, until it has reached full size, even a predatory fish is part of the food chain. We’re approached, as you can only get to the sharks with a guide. He also provides us with Crocs in the right size. Three euros per person, shoes included. Pay now? “No stress! Later.”
We wade cautiously out behind him, about fifty metres, until the water is knee-deep. Then he feeds them with dried fish crumbs, and in no time at all there are three or four young sharks around us, the largest about a metre long. Sand-grey in colour, agile and fast. The sharks brush against us with their tail fins as they circle round our legs.
A little further out, where the water gets deeper, the parents are keeping watch. Fully grown dorsal fins cutting through the water, barely a stone’s throw away. You can only guess how big they are, but they’re certainly two metres long. How did that go again? “No stress!” By the time you’re enjoying a sundowner on the quarterdeck in the evening, at the very latest, you’ll be able to recount the story in a truly relaxed manner.
Information: Boa Vista
- Size of the island: 216 km²
- Location: 16°44′N, 022°56′W
- Population: 36,800
- Main town: Espargos (Administration), Santa Maria (Tourism)
- Places to lie down: Palmeira (at anchor)
Christian Tiedt
Editor Travel
