Four hundred kilometers northeast of the easternmost point of the South American mainland lies a lonely archipelago called Fernando de Noronha. The southwestern Atlantic is notably devoid of oceanic islands and so this small cluster, one primary island and numerous rocky islets, has long provided one of the only safe harbors for many types of species that spend most of their time on the open ocean. The main island, eponymous with the archipelago as a whole, has been inhabited since the early Colonial Period, though never to a very great extent, and without establishment of any large-scale extractive industries. Consequently, the seas of this area remain an important stronghold for threatened marine species, such as turtles, rays, whales, and pelagic birds. This prompted the government of Brazil to created the Parque Nacional Marinho de Fernando de Noronha in 1988, a park consisting of the waters of the archipelago and the undeveloped areas of the insular shorelines, and UNESCO to list that park as the Brazilian Atlantic Islands WHS several years later.

This would usually be the type of place that I would be very interested in seeing, even more so since the island is home to two endemic bird species. However, the archipelago represents another frustrating case of islands that can not be reached by sea, so I anticipated that going there would be troublesome, and likely expensive. But earlier in the year, when I realized that the container ship I would use to cross the Atlantic would depart form the nearby port of Natal, it seemed like making a short trip there could be possible. So I mentally added a visit to my itinerary and, typically, once I do that it can be virtually impossible to remove it.

In this case, that is probably what I should have done, since a powerful Brazilian chest cold, the knock-on effects of which I am still dealing with, made a shambles of the final three weeks of this section and would negatively affect this visit. Additionally, I can now change the term likely expensive, used above, to significantly expensive. Even given the fact that I stayed indoors throughout Brazil, I had managed to keep my expenses to a reasonable level during the previous three months, however, a three-night stay on Noronha would counteract any benefits I had accrued almost instantaneously. Nevertheless, I was reluctant to give up that visit, and even though I would not be able to really get the most out of it for health reasons, I would still appreciate another WHS tick and the opportunity to tally a couple of uncommon birds.

I decided, under the circumstances, to leave the bike on the mainland this time. It certainly would have been nice to have it there, since the island is not very large, but it wouldn’t have been worth the hassle and expense of two airline encounters. I had two full days to spend there, which was adequate and mildly practical, since the daily Environmental Protection Fee tourists must pay, increases steeply for longer visits. The marine portion of the park was the primary reason the WHS was created, and seeing that requires snorkeling, scuba diving, or, at least, a boat tour. Unfortunately, I was not able to do any of those things at the time, so I had to be satisfied with a land-based experience in this case. That was, more or less, fine with me since the scenery was quite beautiful, the ocean kept the heat in check compared to the mainland, and the settlement was fairly user-friendly and generally built in an attractive manner. Additionally, it was not impossible to appreciate the beautiful marine environment from the shore and more than once I was entertained by the antics of passing pods of Spinner Dolphins. While this may not have been one of my most enjoyable WHS visits, thanks to that annoying virus, and certainly wasn’t the best value where costs were concerned, I am generally pleased that I was able to add this out-of-the-way Site to my list of visits.