I had always dreamed of taking a voyage on a cargo ship. One that would last several days. Cape Verde helped make that dream come true. And still, all these years later, I find myself dreaming of doing it again. Hopefully soon.
It was through a contact with Captain Alberto Lopes, who was docked at Warehouse 23 in Beato Dock, Lisbon, that I made my first sea voyage to Cape Verde. The year was 1987. Little did I know that a few years later, we would become friends and I would sail several more times aboard the motor vessel Elsie.
After finishing the documentary Cabo Verde in 1987, where I worked as underwater lighting technician and assistant director, I sent Captain Alberto a VHS tape with the film. It was my way of thanking him for the opportunity he had given me to make those unforgettable journeys, memories I still hold dear. Memories for life. That’s just how it is.
A few weeks later, I received a handwritten letter from Mindelo, sent by him in response. At one point he asked:
– Do you have any idea what you gave me?
He mentioned that the sunken ship we filmed on Sal Island was where he had lost his wedding ring. At the time of the accident, he was serving as the First Officer.
It took about five nights at sea to reach the archipelago. The “downward” speed averaged between 8 to 10 knots, and with some luck, 12 or even 13 knots per hour. Slowly, as it should be.
My second trip on the Elsie was in September 1987. I returned to Lisbon to resume my studies in social anthropology a year after having lived there.
I was treated with great care on board and was given an officer’s cabin near the crew.
Unlike the passenger cabins, where the portholes could be opened to the outside, the windows here were sealed. The Elsie had been built in Norway to navigate the fjords. Later it “emigrated” to the tropics without any adaptations in this section of the ship to handle the much higher temperatures of the southern latitudes.
Because of the heat during the day, I spent most of my time on the deck, the bridge, or in the mess hall on the lower level.
Midway we would pass the Canary Islands. The island is a massive presence in the middle of the sea, and Mount Teide is the highest volcano in the Atlantic islands. At 3,718 meters above sea level, it rises nearly 7,500 meters from the ocean floor.
In the days leading up to our approach, even before spotting it on the horizon, I would track our proximity on the maps kept on the bridge.
You spend hours watching it before arriving, then more hours sailing past from one end to the other, and finally, gazing back from the stern as it vanishes on the horizon. It is undoubtedly the highlight of the trip. For a while, I no longer felt alone in the vast ocean—though that feeling never troubled me. Quite the opposite.
In my logbook, I noted the day before that the approach to land gave us an excuse to watch Spanish television. There was no shortage of interest that day. We passed many other ships crossing the islands or following European routes. We were often visited by birds hitching a ride, stopping briefly before resuming their mysterious journeys.
28° 04′ N and 16° W We are off the coast of Tenerife, with the lights of Las Palmas, Gran Canaria visible on the starboard side.We’ve been making good progress. I spent most of the day on the Bridge (…) looked at the radar, the maps, through the binoculars, had cachupa for lunch, cod à Gomes de Sá for dinner. (…). The night is cool, and I even put on a sweater. The cabin feels cozy now.
Around 2 AM, a repeat of the lunchtime cachupa is expected. I’ll try not to miss it. In the channel, the ship barely rocks, only shuddering slightly with the persistent hum of the engine.
The mighty Tenerife and the island’s highest peak, Mount Teide, accompanied us for several more hours. At times, we passed so close to shore that we were less than 5 miles from land.
On my first voyage from Lisbon to Cape Verde, on July 31, 1987, Tenerife was the chosen spot for a repair to the engine room. We stopped for about half an hour while the engineering officer and onboard mechanics completed the operation. The drift was pre-planned—just in case something went wrong, help would be nearby. Everything was done safely, and we resumed our voyage south without incident.
Monday, Sept 28 – 30°N; 15°W Flashes of lightning and scattered showers on the horizon. (…) The Selvagens are nearby, about 50 miles away, but can’t be seen even though visibility is good when it’s not raining. Rádio Comercial’s early morning program had a great selection while Tenerife faded into the distance. “Caminho longe (…) saudade ai saudade!” in Bonga’s voice. It was past 5 AM in Portugal (4 AM on board) when I went to bed. (…) Breakfast—the third round of cachupa—was again at 7:30.
This trip was also marked by the transport of four small dragon trees (dragoeiros), which I had brought from São Nicolau just two weeks earlier. That island, the last inhabited one of the archipelago I had yet to visit, is symbolized by the dragon tree. I carried them in small black bags of soil, as they were gifted to me from a nursery dedicated to preserving the species.
Native to Atlantic islands, the dragon tree is a symbol of resilience, capable of living for centuries. Its red sap was once used to dye the “panos da terra” (traditional cloth).
Nearly 40 years on, two of them remain. One now stands in my backyard, already about seven meters tall. I’m always surprised by its vitality—it just keeps growing, thickening its trunks and branches. Salt air is no stranger here. It truly is a symbol of the strength of those islands.
As I mentioned, I later made several more voyages on the Elsie, even when Captain Alberto wasn’t aboard. On one of those trips, in 1994, I left Lisbon for Viana do Castelo. Two days later, we departed for Sal Island, then on to Mindelo, and finally to Praia.
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