We arrived at Fernando de Noronha after five days at sea after leaving Salvador. Now here I was, forty four years later, but this time I flew in from Salvador via Recife. It was a short flight of just under an hour from Recife. I had read up a little on the island but nothing could have prepared me for how undeveloped the island has remained. In 1982, I distinctly remember the view from Scally after anchoring safely. Long stretches of beautiful sandy beaches, coral reefs and surf, and many many palm trees along the shoreline. I remember dusty dirt tracks, and a couple of shack-like houses. It is still exactly the same, pretty much.
My taxi took me to the pousada, which was basically a set of a few one storey bungalows. They were very friendly and welcoming, smiles and relaxation everywhere, typical to a beachy paradise. This is a beachy island paradise. There are beaches everywhere and it’s what people do. Go to the beach.
I have visited many beautiful beaches. Portugal, has some of the most magnificent ones anywhere in the world, so does the United States on east, west and southern coasts; so does Italy; so does the east coast of the United Kingdom; and don’t even get me started on South Africa. But here, it seems like one of the last places on earth that remains simple, low key, undeveloped, a complete absence of any buildings above two stories, a complete absence of high street shops, fast food chains, supermarkets, bars and cafes. It’s a simple, easy, extremely laid back, original place and I was completely taken in. It is a beauty the likes of which we do not often encounter.
It’s a very small island with one main road and there are beaches everywhere. I really was not sure which one Scally had been on, except that it must have been on the western side of the island, as we had approached from the south west.
On my first morning, after explaining my mission to a young concierge who was more than helpful in trying to identify the beach in question, I headed for Praia do Boldró, with the surity that this was the beach with the most rock formations which at low tide are visible and which at high tide caused large surf and waves. (I had believed from memories that they would be coral reefs, but they are indeed rock formations, much like the pools in Praia de Barros in Brazil. But I remember them vividly, as me and my brother had cut our feet on them when we capsized in the Wag while heading for shore with Jerry cans to get fresh water).
Praia do Boldró is truly a beautiful beach. Long and sandy. Huge surf crashing over the rock formations visible and invisible. Only a handful of people. No buildings; (I did ask myself what people would do if they needed the toilet, but I guess the palm trees and dense bushes behind served the purpose). There was a kind old Brazilian man at the entrance who, for a hundred Reais (about twenty Swiss francs) would set up an umbrella, deck chair and little table. I was very grateful for the shade and happy that I had brought a little picnic and lots of water. It was a very hot day, with the sun blaring down on the beach, the sand too hot to walk on without slip slops. There was one stand selling Caipirinha, water, coconuts and watermelons and that’s that.
I settled in for my day at the beach, going in and out of the beautiful, clear, fresh, warm and unpolluted water, and staring out beyond the rock formations, trying to picture Scally anchored there. Towards the end of the day I was absolutely sure it was not this beach, it was too exposed, too open to the wide open sea, and I could not imagine my brother or I setting anchor here.
My mission had failed, but I still had some days left on the island and I had had a magificent day at the beach, including a wonderful Caipirinha.






















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