Island Odyssey: Madeira Day 2

The second day on Madeira dawned clear, in great contrast to the previous day.

There were again two choices for the day's activities. Joan and I passed on the boat ride to the nearby (uninhabited) Desertas Islands, and picked the bus tour, which would take us up to the second highest peak, Pico do Arieiro. Perhaps it was the good weather, or another unpredictable factor, but our bus made an unexpected stop at an agricultural research station. Although tourism is now Madeira's single largest source of income, agriculture is still important, and the island has a different climate zone every few hundred meters of altitude. Here seedlings are being started in a greenhouse.

Grafting citrus onto hardy rootstock is one of the activities of this center. Here is one top-onto-bottom technique.

This sequence shows a different side-splicing technique.

The workers who do the grafting are paid per successful graft, so they are both skilled and fast. Next, a greenhouse for tropical trees:

This view from the research station shows how intensely terraced the lower elevations of Madeira are, for agricultural purposes.

The guide/researcher at this station had an interesting story for us. We had observed, while walking in, banana trees with blue plastic around the young fruit. It turns out that EU regulations require export-quality bananas to be at least 15 cm (6 inches) long, and the exquisitely sweet and densely flavored Madeiran bananas are short. The heat of the blue plastic encourages them to grow long enough for export, but weakens their flavor. Another example of well-intentioned regulations going awry!

From the research station the bus went up and around, up and around, and up until we reached the top of Pico do Arieiro.

A new radar dome and gift shop/visitors center were not yet complete.

Looking back at the unfinished gift shop from the viewpoint at the top. This mountain does as all mountains do, and creates clouds as the warm sea air is lifted up more than a mile high.

Looking out at a further viewpoint, with which we would become acquainted in the dark of the night. Down and to the left you can barely see the Nuns' Valley, where the nuns (and presumably church valuables) of the island would flee during pirate attacks in the 16th Century.

You can see large stretches of bare or reseeded ground in the above photos. This is due to a large fire in August of 2010, as shown in this NASA photo.

Sadly, this fire was arson, not accidental or natural, and aimed at the Funchal Ecologial Park, a preserve of about 1000 hectares, or 2500 acres. The guides that we had during our visit would speak about it with varying degrees of openness. What we gathered is that the creation of the Park, with the aim of restoring native vegetation to a small portion of the island, angered the ranchers who could no longer graze their livestock within the Park. Fires started at several locations simultaneously, implying that several individuals were involved. Only one was brought to trial, and his only punishment was to wear a tracking bracelet and check in with the police a few times a year. The guides often used the word "politics" to describe the situation. The fire was also made worse by the Madeiran authorities, who at first were confident that they could handle the blaze themselves, and declined help that had been offered by mainland Portugal. The original NASA information is here.

We wound down, down, and down for lunch at the Quinta do Furao. Madeira has excellent modern roads and a plethora of tunnels, supporting both tourism and the local population, who in the not so distant past would travel from town to town by boat rather than overland. The island has benefited greatly from the EU policies of subsidizing infrastructure in less developed areas. The sign for our lunch stop:

The Quinta do Furao has a small wine shop and bar, and extensive meeting and dining facilities. Here is a glimpse of the grounds from our parking area.

After a taste of Madeiran wine, we check out an antique wine press. (Wine was also included in the meal, of course.)

Following lunch we stopped at Santana, a reconstructed village of traditional thatched houses. The buildings now contain a post office, gift shop, artisan demonstrations, and so forth.

On the way back to Reid's Palace we saw the other side of Eagle Rock.

Dinner that evening was a poolside (but indoors) buffet at Reid's.

Joan and I had signed up for the optional evening excursion, departing at 9PM for Pico do Arieiro to listen to the calls of the Zino's Petrel, a pelagic seabird (it returns to land only to breed), the most endangered bird in Europe, which nests only in mountaintop cliffs on Madeira. Originally the excursion was limited to 20 persons, but there was such demand that it was expanded to 32 or so. The young ecologists leading us were obviously eager to spread the word about the petrel.

Zino's Petrels were hit hard by the fire of August 2010; according to our guides, the entire chick population was killed and several adults perished. Conservationists over the world are praying for good luck in the 2011 breeding season, especially because the burrow sites are now burned over.

Being driven to the top of the mountain in the dark was an adventure in itself. We were enveloped in fog for the last several miles, and our van began to fog up as we continued to exhale and the outside air grew colder and colder. The guide either said that the condensation was not frost, or that the van did not have a defroster: I was two rows back and he was difficult to hear. He wiped the inside of the windshield with a cloth instead. We made it to the parking area without incident, along with the other three vans. The radar dome and other structures were invisible in the dark and the fog.

We suited up. Some brought flashlights, and some, including Joan and me, brought headlights. Hats, gloves, jackets -- yes. I had long underwear beneath my hiking pants, and was glad of it. It was only April, after all, and we were 6,000 feet up! After setting out our party became a long string of illuminated circles bobbing across the ground. We came to the observation area, sat down, and tried to stay quiet.

Our guides helped us ignore the first calls we heard, of the more common manx shearwater. Then we could focus on the cries of the Zino's Petrels, which make a haunting, warbling wail. The local shepherds have a legend that these are the sounds of the souls of lost shepherds, and it's plausible.

Lights appeared in the distance ahead, where we had been staring without seeing. They grew closer, and we wondered (silently) who this might be. It turned out to be a pair of park rangers conducting a burrow survey of the petrels. After our guides verified their credentials, making sure that they were not egg snatchers, the rangers passed through our group and were gone.

The fog, or clouds, really, began to thin as the time passed. Occasionally a star could be seen, and then some lights of a village far below to the right. I did not keep track of the time; I just tried to sit quietly and experience the sounds of the petrels. I was glad I dressed warmly. Some of my comrades were wishing for another layer.

The guides decided it was time to go back to the unfinished gift shop, where we found a spot mostly out of the wind, and huddled on some steps for hot tea, cookies, and a presentation on the petrels and other conservation work in Madeira. It was a very modern presentation. Two of the guides stood in front of us, each with an iPad held out for us to see. As one guide narrated the tablets were used to flick from image to image (a gentleman of a certain age, such as myself, would say from slide to slide).

After the refreshments and presentation, we hurtled down the mountain in the vans. Our driver took a couple of small detours so that he could slow the van without damaging the very hot brakes. We arrived back at Reid's just before 1 AM, and very happy that the schedule had changed again.

Yes, the schedule had changed again. Originally the plan for tomorrow was that our luggage must be outside the door of the room by 6:30 AM, and, for the option Joan and I had chosen, the departure was 8:00 AM. However, during dinner before the petrel excursion, we were informed that the Explorer was running late.

As usual, the Lindblad staff handled one more surprise adroitly. If we could not board the Explorer at 3PM, we would have another dinner at Reid's palace! Luggage would not have to be outside the room until late afternoon, except for a few unlucky individuals whose room was already promised to an arriving guest; these persons would be given a different room. And our morning excursion would not start until 9:00 AM, a very welcome turn of events for us petrel watchers, who now got an extra hour of sleep.

Tomorrow would be another busy day.