The Costa da Morte is one of the most spectacular coastlines I’ve visited. Myth and legend are soaked into the landscape of this rugged, 200km stretch of Spain’s Atlantic coastline. It is a region of dense fogs, hidden reefs and rocks, towering cliffs, and terrible storms. The HMS Serpent, sailing from England to Sierra Leone in 1890, encountered all of these on one fateful November night. The 176 crew were shipwrecked.
Only three crew survived, they found their way in the storm to a local village to raise the alarm. Over the following days 142 bodies were recovered and the villagers and priest had them buried in a consecrated grave next to the ocean. While just one of hundreds of shipwrecks on this coast, the HMS Serpent is still remembered today – British media coverage of the disaster gave the coast its chilling name.
The HMS Serpent was one of three British ships that sank within a few years of each other on this coast. The Iris Hull sailing from Cardiff to India sank in similar circumstances in 1883. One crew member survived, the rest were buried in Cemiterio dos ingleses. The SS Trinacria, sailing from Scotland to Italy sank in 1893. The dead were buried here as well. It was to this shared resting place I came one fine morning.
Leaving peaceful Camariñas behind, I soon found myself walking on sandy tracks between old stone walls and through pine scented woods. A gentle breeze and the sound of waves on the shore were only interrupted by birdsong. I stopped at the arc of white sand that is Praia de Lago early enough to have the beach to myself. Across the wide bay I could see the town of Muxia illuminated in the sun.
Ahead, on a hill. was the Ermida da Virxe do Monte, an 18th century chapel that looks out to sea. Legend claims that during storms the wives of Camariñas fishermen would climb onto the roof and turn the stone tiles around, believing this would change the direction of the wind and bring the boats safely back to port. The chapel was closed but inside are a number of model boats and other offerings for those on the sea.
It’s said the chapel is the sister of Muxia’s Santuario da Virxe da Barca. Together they watch the sea to ensure safe passage for boats. The sisters appear to have been asleep on the job, because while big foreign ships sinking may make headlines, these chapels are a reminder of the daily dangers local fishermen endured from an unpredictable and pernicious ocean. The views from the hill are spectacular.
The route from here was along a fairly easy track on the coast close to the water. Ahead of me though was a high rocky outcrop on top of which stood Faro Vilán. When the HMS Serpent sank the lighthouse became a focus for British recriminations. Media reports claimed its light was too weak to be seen in storms. This led to Spain building its first fully electric lighthouse here in 1896.
Today, the beam from the lighthouse can be seen 55km away. Faro Vilán sits on a rocky outcrop 125 metres above the ocean, it’s a dramatic sight even on a calm and sunny day. The lighthouse has an unusual design. The tower holding the light sits higher up the rock outcrop from the keepers’ quarters, and they’re connected by a covered tunnel designed to prevent keepers being blown off the cliff by ferocious Atlantic winds.
The route along the coast climbs upwards with sweeping views back towards Faro Vilán. It then drops down through a pine woodland towards three fabulous beaches. I took a refreshing (read cold) dip on Praia da Pedrosa and then continued along the coast past the long sweep of Praia da Balea. There is a desolate, wild beauty here that’s hard to quantify. Rock formations jut out into the ocean, and on one sits a solitary stone cross.
This is dedicated to Jesús María Grela Touriñán, a local fisherman who drowned at this point who fell from the rocks and was pulled under by the current. It’s a tragic reminder that many people have been lost on these wave-battered rocks, especially those who harvest gooseneck barnacles, or percebes. A high risk job, the percebeiras work on rocks as the tide crashes into them, and must time their work to avoid the worst waves.
Nearby is the Cemiterio dos ingleses, on a day when the weather is benign it is a peaceful and atmospheric spot. The walled cemetery looking out over the waves barrelling into the rocks close to Playas de Trece’s arc of golden sand. I spent a few minutes in splendid isolation before heading up a steep track that took me into the hills behind the coast and through a landscape of gorse, pine and eucalyptus trees.
Over the next couple of hours I caught occasional glimpses of the ocean below, before the route took me downhill through plantations of eucalyptus into the upper part of Camariñas. It had been a fabulous walk, but hot and dusty on the final leg of the route. I was happy to take a dip at Praia de Lingunde and go for a well deserve Estrella Galicia in the beach bar.
