To An Island Out in The Sea

One morning Rick said to Ben and I, "Think about going to Ilha do Campeche on Saturday, okay?"

Okay. An island off of the east coast... No cars. Plants, beautiful beaches, an ecological reserve and ... oh, rock carvings made by an ancient culture. Vamos lá!

Leaving early to avoid traffic, we visited the feira (farmers market) to pick up some food. The feira is an associaão de agricultura ecológica and shares a collective name and insignia EcoFeira. Located in centrinho, the vendor stands gather on Saturday around a plaza and walkways to sell fruits, vegetables, jewelery made from seeds, honey and sometimes much more. Turn out depends on the weather.

At each feira we buy a week's worth of bananas. Bananas here are smaller, sweeter and more ethical than conventional U.S. bananas. Bending over crates of various shades of bananas, Ben describes about how long each color will take to ripen. My understanding is... Deep green, "Good for a while from now"; light green, Good by the end of the week"; yellow green, "Good in a few days" and dark yellow with bruises and spots, "Good now."

Chit chat with everyone. A vendor selling organic honey tells us about his bees. Ben translates my beekeeping questions and I learn how all bees in Brazil are killer bees and how the beekeeping trade is run in Brazil. We bought a jar of Flor da Bracatinga (Mimosa scabrella) honey and a strip of honey packets. Bees feasting on the Bracatinga produce two types of honey, one made from the flowers and the other made from the sap. The long strips of honey packets are very popular. They are found in almost all food stores and are similar to our honey sticks, but I find them more difficult to eat; always getting honey everywhere when I bite into one.

Talking with the nice aged lady who runs the homemade natural food stand she told us, while we ate one of her delicious wheat free vegan tofu pizzas, that it is faster, cheaper and closer than the traditional whaling boats to take a motor boat from praia do Campeche to get to ilha do Campeche. Since the weather looked like it might turn come the afternoon we decide to go for it.

Walking down the beach with our lunches and beach gear in our bags, we reached a group of zodiac motorboats. After quick haggling, we were strapped with life jackets by a team of strong young men--all very nice on the eyes. Our bags were wrapped up in a trash bag and as a large wave crashed over the sand and under the boat, the team pushed the zodiac into the water. With our sandals in hand, we jumped on. The team pushed us further into the breakers, waves threatening to toss us backwards but we were kept down by strong hands. Sploosh, a wave flies into our faces. I laughed! And we were pushed into the ocean.

Our boat driver stood leaning into the wind steering us toward the other tropical island. His face brown and leathery from the salt, wind and sun beating against him. This is his profession. With his mouth covered with a thick layer sunscreen and his comfortably snug life jacket he was geared for a day of hard sun and salt water. The ride is short. 15 or 20 minutes of fun swells and then we glided up onto the soft white beach of Ilha do Campeche.


Rick and Ben were just as surprised as I when upon arrival greeters approach us with information about the island and ecological information. The island is no longer open for the public to wander around freely. To hike the trails past the beach it is necessary to be accompanied by a tour guide. Ah, and so it goes. But it is for the best. This island is paradisaical. Rick promised we would see the dancing petroglyph. Okay.

We went swimming in the warm waters as we waited for our tour to begin. Colorful fishing boats floated in the bay. Large tan rocks framed the beach, and we picked our way through them inspecting each cove. Still quite early, the beach was more or less empty. Whaling boats bring loads of people and the zodiacs will bring more as well, however, the daily visitor numbers are limited to decrease impact on the island.

Our tour begins and we were led up and into the green Mata Atlâtica. Large strangler figs choke out the sun. Our young guide explains that this island was at one time deforested. All the trees gone for coffee to grow. All the trees gone, a common history on Brazil's coast. The religious fig trees remained untouched and now in its grandeur because there were three things important to a seaman: religion, without it you'll be dead; boats, without it you'll be dead; and family, because its a reason to be alive.

Upon reaching the crest of island the vegetation changes. Pushed over by the Atlantic ocean's wind and salt, the forest is low dense and scraggly. Large cacti from a relic age stand tall in the mass of shrubs and bromeilads. We descended onto the other side of the island by passing through tunnels bored into the dense vegetation.

The east coast of the island is battered by the waves of the ocean. Granite monoliths line the shore creating steep walls and flat decks. Plants live in their deep crevices. Rock flowers are blooming. Birds dive into the water and float up to eat on the granite rock. Our group was led down delicate trails in three locations to see the sets of petroglyphs.

As we all stood and considered a rock carving the sun beat down hot and sea burned blue. Petroglyphys are about the nicest nod to history I can enjoy. I like to imagine that someone came down ages ago to sit on these rocks and look out at the great expansive Atlantic ocean stretch on forever and were so inspired by something in life so much that they worked it into stone. And, now, that message of sensation they felt and transcribed laboriously remains for us to ponder about.

Rick and the dancing petroglyph.

Maybe everyone came down to these rocks to dance. We'll never know. But the fun is we can imagine whatever we want.

We headed back toward the beach to swim and lay in the soft white sand. Little insectivorous, fruit eating mammals called quati live near the beach. They are related to raccoons and although they are diurnal, unlike the raccoon, their behavior is similar; living in groups and feasting on the restaurant's compost.

Our zodiac picked us up from the beach late in the afternoon and as dark rain clouds started to roll over Florianópolis and towards this island of ancient art we jumped the swells back home.


What other places can we think about going to?