El Puertito (Diving at 'Turtle Bay')

Ermits Virgen del Carmen in 1949 (Rodriguez Delgado, 2014)

El Puertito means 'small harbour' and is a derivative of the Spanish word 'puerto' meaning port; the whole bay is sheltered by the protruding landscape and steep hills that surround it, it is a natural cove hewed from the volcanic rock that makes up the island. The village is rustic and charming (its original industry was as a small fishing settlement), away from the main tourist trails in Tenerife and not much visited by holiday-makers. It is a little like a hidden gem, used mainly by the locals. The Spanish style buildings are built right against the narrow beach, unsullied by modern development and the somewhat bucolic and pastoral atmosphere is heightened by the presence on the track to the beach by Ermita Virgen del Carmen - a church built in the vernacular style. The Virgen del Carmen is an image found in Matrix Church of Our Lady of the Rock of France in Puerto de la Cruz - it is a venerated image of the Canary Islands. The old image of Carmen was deconsecrated and replaced by a carving by the sculptor Acosta Angel Martin. As I took in my surrounds, however, I was glad to be away from the tourist throngs, even though there were transit vans used by divers parked by the track side, and behind the church were the beginnings of a favela-type settlement. 

The cove is, though, famous for another reason: turtles. This is the reason I had come (an anathema to my own fawning view of the rustic surrounds as I was a tourist, and a conspicuous one in my dive suit!). The waters were entered from the shore, as we were not to be diving to any great depths (I think the maximum depth was 8.2metres). The rocky shore gave way to a mainly sandy seabed, punctuated by occasional outcrops of volcanic rock, out of which all sorts of creatures were curiously trying to see what aliens had landed in their habitat. Then, out of the hazy blue came the first of the turtles. I had forgotten how large they were, but also how graceful they were in the water, initially I simply watched in amazement as it swam right up to me. I am led to believe that during the summer months they are hand-fed by divers - which would also explain their relative tame natures - and hence their curiousness. Their expressions, even though fixed, have always seemed to have human qualities; sometimes frowning and a little forlorn, but their large dark eyes do seem to possess a soul. I could touch the marvellously coloured shells, its only form of protection in a hostile environment. 

Perhaps they act as symbols more than fish do (a bit like whales or dolphins) of the fragility of the ocean environment, with this in mind I became acutely aware of the detritus on the seafloor; beer tins, strands of plastic etc. It was with great relief that I saw Giedre (the dive leader) don a pair of gardening gloves and start collecting the rubbish. Perhaps because the turtles are so seemingly gentle, they acted as a stark reminder of the effects we are having on our environment, I felt a great sense of shame at what we, as a species, had done to this idyllic location. The turtles swam with us until they realised we had no sardines to feed them, so they then made their way out into more open waters. However, as soon as one had done this, another would come in to see if there was any food to be had (I noticed that one had a radio receiver on its shell - clearly the local conservation societies / organisations are keen to track their movements).

This was to be my last dive of this brief stay on the island, it is becoming harder to leave, and as we are frequent visitors it is inevitable that discussions have commenced on a post-retirement plan to move there permanently!