10th to 24th November 2024

If you sail between Madeira and the Canaries, you may come across a remote rocky outcrop, the Selvagem Islands (Savage Islands).

These islands form the southernmost part of Portugal. They are a well protected Nature Reserve but, with a  permit from Portuguese authorities, you can visit the larger one, Selvagem Grande, and if weather all right, can anchor in a rocky bay, and radio for permission to go ashore.

So, after a brisk and choppy overnight sail for the 170 miles from Madeira, I did visit Selvagem Grande, and dropped anchor on a sunny afternoon off the two concrete blocks that are home for the few temporary residents.

There were five people there: two policemen, two rangers, and a research student, all very interesting and friendly. 

One of the policemen, a young man from Lisbon, had the biggest biceps I’ve ever seen. Made Arnold Schwarzenegger look like a stick insect. It would have taken ages for the tattoo artist to get around such arms.

The rangers, at least the one who showed us round, had a truly vast understanding of everything about the history, geography and natural history of the area; there was no question he wasn’t confident in answering. And the young student from Lisbon University was researching the love lives of, I think, the Madeiran storm petrel. The gps-tagged birds she was watching hadn’t all returned to their nests within her three week stay, so she had to stay another three weeks – that being the time between each visit of the supply boat.

Next morning, just as the ranger was about to take me for a walk (you can’t go on your own), two more sailing boats appeared:- One, a charter yacht with ten Poles, the other a charter yacht with three or four Austrians. So, by the time their papers and passports are checked, it’s another couple of hours before we finally set off for our guided tour, by then a pretty big group. 

It was wonderful. 

I shan’t be dull with a long description of all we saw and learnt, but here’s the link to relevant pages of Wikipedia , if you want more.

From Selvagem Grande it was another fine overnight sail to the island of La Graciosa, a Nature Reserve just north of Lanzarote in the Canary Islands. 

There are hundreds of people here, dozens of bars and restaurants, small supermarkets and holiday accommodation. Tourists arrive on frequent ferry services from Lanzarote.

A fleet of Landrovers cruise and bump along the unpaved roads, clouds of dust in their wake. And energetic cyclists on rented mountain bikes pant and sweat on the few designated sandy tracks.

The whole place is dusty brown and arid, the two small towns having the feel of early settler places in the  American Midwest. Not really my cup of tea, so after a couple of nights, it’s time to move on south to Lanzarote.

You’ve probably been to Lanzarote (about three million visitors arrive every year) or live here (nearly ten thousand Britons do), so I shan’t say much about it. It’s about 30 miles top to bottom, with a series of desiccated brown grey volcanic mountains, long dormant volcanoes, along its spine. The only greenery comes from straggly cactus and a few palms.

I’d wondered why all the houses are white – so asked. The answer is that a famous artist from the island, Cesar Manrique, decided it. After making a name for himself as a distinguished artist in New York, he returned to Lanzarote in the 1960s, renewed a childhood friendship with the island’s president, and set out his architectural and planning visions for development. Cesar must have been an influential fellow.

Lanzarote is certainly distinctive, with almost entirely low rise, brilliant white buildings, and pleasing imaginative meandering walkways in the many pedestrian areas. It’s much more upmarket than the tourist slum developments of Southern Tenerife. Plus, in Lanzarote you wouldn’t have to agonise over what colour to paint your house; you are not allowed anything except white.

Here in the Rubicon marina area, there’s an abundance of good quality bars and restaurants so, as I teeter on the brink of overindulged alcoholism, I know it’s time to go back to the beautiful simplicity of life at anchor and lots more snorkelling.

Soon it’ll be time to head for the western Canary Islands that I love. I’m expecting important visitors.