Fogo Island, Cape Verde Archipelago
Seven years ago today, a massive eruption began on the western flank of the 9,300 foot high Pico, the highest point on the island of Fogo (“Fire”). Lasting almost two months, the lava flowed west then north, covering much of the floor of the volcanic crater known as Chã das Caldeiras, or Plain of Craters, including the village of Boca Fonte. The government built alternative housing away from likely volcanic activity, but residents returned to and rebuilt their small community.
A short Zodiac ride brought us into the island’s protected harbor. A few groups of local fishermen were working their nets from oar powered boats. Others were in the water with snorkels and fins, herding fish into the nets. We left for the highlands in a fleet of eight vans, passing through small towns and open countryside, traveling on well built cobble roads, made from basalt which is abundant on this and all of the other islands in the Cape Verde group. Children and adults alike waved and smiled as we passed. I wondered how often they see a convoy such as ours.
As we gained elevation, terracing became apparent as we looked up the steep surrounding slopes. In many areas, it seemed that the only inhabitants capable of reaching some of the terraces would be goats, which roamed abundantly on the hillsides. Donkeys saddled with black rubber bladders walked well-worn trails, bringing precious water from springs to irrigate gardens and for domestic use. Chickens moved freely through yards and streets.
Reaching the level of the caldera floor, about 5,500 feet, we entered a new world. Stark, spectacularly rugged lava flows surrounded by acres of black sand dunes and fields. Volcanic bombs. The rim of the ancient volcano rose almost 4,000 feet above us. Every once in a while, protected by the lava, a small patch of green. Life has a way of returning to even the most desolate areas.
When we reached the village, local musicians played for us in front of a building that was built from pyroclastic rocks produced by volcanic eruptions. We also enjoyed goat’s cheese and wine, locally produced, coaxed from the rich volcanic soil. Just as life finds its way to the most surprising of places, so does the human spirit.
Seven years ago today, a massive eruption began on the western flank of the 9,300 foot high Pico, the highest point on the island of Fogo (“Fire”). Lasting almost two months, the lava flowed west then north, covering much of the floor of the volcanic crater known as Chã das Caldeiras, or Plain of Craters, including the village of Boca Fonte. The government built alternative housing away from likely volcanic activity, but residents returned to and rebuilt their small community.
A short Zodiac ride brought us into the island’s protected harbor. A few groups of local fishermen were working their nets from oar powered boats. Others were in the water with snorkels and fins, herding fish into the nets. We left for the highlands in a fleet of eight vans, passing through small towns and open countryside, traveling on well built cobble roads, made from basalt which is abundant on this and all of the other islands in the Cape Verde group. Children and adults alike waved and smiled as we passed. I wondered how often they see a convoy such as ours.
As we gained elevation, terracing became apparent as we looked up the steep surrounding slopes. In many areas, it seemed that the only inhabitants capable of reaching some of the terraces would be goats, which roamed abundantly on the hillsides. Donkeys saddled with black rubber bladders walked well-worn trails, bringing precious water from springs to irrigate gardens and for domestic use. Chickens moved freely through yards and streets.
Reaching the level of the caldera floor, about 5,500 feet, we entered a new world. Stark, spectacularly rugged lava flows surrounded by acres of black sand dunes and fields. Volcanic bombs. The rim of the ancient volcano rose almost 4,000 feet above us. Every once in a while, protected by the lava, a small patch of green. Life has a way of returning to even the most desolate areas.
When we reached the village, local musicians played for us in front of a building that was built from pyroclastic rocks produced by volcanic eruptions. We also enjoyed goat’s cheese and wine, locally produced, coaxed from the rich volcanic soil. Just as life finds its way to the most surprising of places, so does the human spirit.
