Photographer Matthieu Paley travels across the eight Canary Islands in search of one that disappears and reappears.
National Geographic CreativeWorks
ByStephen Phelan
Published September 26, 2023
The Ancient Greeks had a habit of yearning westward. Homer and Plato conjured rhetorical visions of a mythic paradise or lost civilization at the edge of the known world. They projected the Elysian Fields of the afterlife, or the sunken continent of Atlantis, onto what we now call Macaronesia, a sequence of oceanic-volcanic archipelagos off the northwest coast of Africa, encompassing the Azores, Cape Verde, Madeira and the Savage Islands, as well as the Canaries.
Of the latter eight inhabited islands, plus four smaller islets and various rocky satellites, each has its own discrete natural history. Fuerteventura, for example, emerged from the sea 20 million years ago, while La Palma is comparatively young at only 1.7 million years old (and still growing through sporadic, isolated eruptions). All have belonged to Spain for more than half a millennium now, and the weather is consistently warm, mild, and clement across the whole archipelago. But while many biogeographical features are shared between them, some are specific to a few of these islands, or unique to one.
Canarian biologist Dr Antonio Machado offers an evocative list of flora and fauna from a group of about 3,600 animal species and 500 native plants endemic to the Canaries. “The dragon tree, the Canary bellflower, the blue chaffinch, the giant lizard of La Gomera… ” Several of these species are critically endangered, as well as other birds, reptiles, fish, and mammals of these islands.
“This is a fragile territory with unique biodiversity,” says Dr Machado, having spent much of his career working to protect it. National parks and nature reserves now encompass more than 50 percent of the Canaries, and conservationists can report many hard-won successes, such as ancient laurel forest regrown and borderline-extinct species reintroduced, amid their ongoing worries.
The case of the black Canarian pig, or cochino negro, signals a kind of cultural revival, too. A staple meat for centuries, it steadily disappeared until a recent renaissance in traditional agriculture and gastronomy restored the breed to farms and subsequently to menus. Folk festivals, dances, and sports (wrestling, stone-lifting, a rustic form of pole-vault known as “shepherd’s leap”) also survive as evidence of a heady human heritage, derived from the customs of aboriginal Guanches, colonial Spaniards, or later arrivals from the Americas.
One particular story has been told across all eight islands for as long as anyone can remember: The legend of a ninth. Often drawn onto past maps and charts, the spectral isle of San Borondón was named after the mystic Irish monk known as Saint Brendan the Navigator. Spreading Christianity across the seas in the 6th century, he was guided by a giant fish to a kind of heaven on Earth at the far end of this archipelago. As a native of Tenerife who can trace his ancestry back to the conquest, Dr Machado is well acquainted with such tales.
And, as a man of science, he is disinclined to believe the occasional wild testimony of local fishermen who swear they have seen San Borondón appear and disappear like a ghostship in the mist.
“Vertical clouds on the horizon west of El Hierro may look, at dawn, like an island,” he suggests, but El Hierro itself is vastly stranger and more wonderful to him than any figment of fishermen’s imagination, as are all of the Canaries in their own way. Dr Machado paints a vivid picture of the sheer variety a modern voyager might encounter in sailing to all eight in turn.
“Older islands like Lanzarote are washed out and flattened, similar to African desert landscapes. Tenerife rises as high as 3,716 meters, crowned by snow in winter, with laurel forest, large pine woodlands, and many other habitats. Gran Canaria is an open book of dramatic geology…” Each island, in short, is an earthly paradise.
Tenerife
The largest and most populous of the Canary Islands is also the most visited. Ringed by yellow and black sand beaches, and dotted with 10 Michelin-listed restaurants in luxury hotels and restored colonial buildings, it’s also quietly spectacular through inland forests and farmlands, ascending to the snowy, starry summit of Mount Teide. This mightiest volcano of the whole archipelago casts a long shadow over the sea, which is one possible source of the San Borondón legend.
Gran Canaria
Dark volcanic rock meets white sand and bright blue water on this island popular for seaside holidays, with almost 40 miles (60km) of beaches flanking big resorts and charming coastal corners like the port of Mogán. Lively with commerce, music, and a flourishing gastronomic culture, Gran Canaria arrays some of its deepest natural pleasures across the hidden reaches of a dynamic topography. Volcanic crags, abyssal caves, towering dunes, ancient pines, and rolling green hills create a “miniature continent” unto itself.
Lanzarote
Invariably likened to lunar craters or red-dusted Martian canyons, Lanzarote’s UNESCO-protected biosphere pushes most human activity right to the margins at busy ports and lively coastal resorts. The beautifully eerie interior now draws ever-more hikers and cyclists to otherworldly massifs and plains, volcanic cones and tunnels, the vast El Jable desert and the lava fields of Caldera Blanca. Landmark sporting fixtures like the Club La Santa Ironman are all the more appealing for racing through such a dreamscape.
Fuerteventura
The oldest Canary Island was born from the sea in the Miocene era, then shaped over eons by strong breezes that have whipped up sand dunes into soft looming peaks at Corralejo and rounded the edges off the ochre hills, with their roaming goats and lonely windmills. Conditions are optimal for surfing and other watersports off golden beaches, while backroads wind their way to remote lookouts, hermitages, hidden coves, and conservation areas for birdlife or sea turtles.
La Palma
Many older ports of the Canaries retain some color and flavor of the colonial era, but none as strongly as Santa Cruz de la Palma. Wood-fronted houses rise out of the harbor on a wave of solid lava, while Latin-style carnivals and hand-rolled cigars attest to a long history as shipping hub between old and new worlds. Wilder reaches of the island, like Caldera de Taburiente National Park, encompass active volcanoes, overgrown ravines, and vertiginous waterfalls.
El Hierro
Once the island at the edge of the known world, El Hierro was marked as the first planetary meridian by French mapmakers of the 17th century. The line runs past the famously isolated lighthouse at Punta de la Orchilla, along one of many cliff edges that drop away abruptly into deep waters now known for prime dive spots. A certain primeval atmosphere abides in volcanic pools and thick laurel forests, especially where local legends tell of witches gathering for ritual dances.
La Gomera
Among the smallest, wildest, least-visited Canaries, La Gomera rises from beaches and palm groves to misty cloud forest and volcanic caves housing ancient sacrificial altars. Unpopulated as it is, with few roads and many walking trails, the island still bears living witness to its distant pre-Christian past by way of the native “whistling language”, Silbo Gomero. Used by ancestral shepherds to communicate across deep valleys, it’s still “spoken” by many villagers, and registered by UNESCO as a Cultural Heritage of Humanity.
La Graciosa
The newest Canary Island was only recognized as such in 2018. Previously considered an islet of nearby Lanzarote, it’s one of Europe’s last outposts without asphalt roads, largely undiscovered and wholly unspoiled, with virgin sands on beaches like Playa de las Conchas. A few whitewashed houses and summer residences are scattered between deep blue undersea caves and terracotta-colored volcanic ranges, where native bird, fish, and lizard species far outnumber humans.
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