P.R. 1 is now open

Concluding a strenuous work which started on the past January, a team of construction workers finished today the repair of the most celebrated of all the Madeira mountain trails: the PR 1, connecting the highest peaks of Madeira.

Just in time to be ready for the present year's edition of the MIUT (Madeira Island Ultra Trail), scheduled for the next Saturday, the repair operations suffered several meteorological setbacks, namely rainy and snowy conditions, forcing the constructers to slow down.

Well, better later than never. And the island's trail event, growing famous year after year, will, once again, have on its route the notorious path connecting Pico Ruívo to Pico do Areeiro.

The Pico Ruívo mountain hut will be, once again, a mandatory passage for all the athletes participating in the present year's MIUT. Here pictured yesterday, at midnight, during a particularly amazing and clear blue sky.

Picture taken with Nikon D610 and Sigma Aspherical 24mm f/1.8 D EX DG Macro mounted on Sirui T-005 travel tripod and ball-head.

Post processing in Nikon View NX2 (conversion from NEF to TIFF) and Adobe Photoshop Lightroom, ver. 4.2

Our own mountain playground

As the biggest and highest mountain massif in the continental Portugal, Serra da Estrela is, bar none, our own mountain playground. Its high above sea level, ending at nearly 2000 meters, together with a gentle climate and its location and accessibility, makes this small mountain range the Portuguese climbing and mountaineering school by excellence.

An initiation place for generations of Portuguese mountaineers, in a country with negligible tradition in the sport, I remember reading some touristic pamphlets in my infant years stating that "one week on the mountain equals one year of health".

In fact, by the nineteen century the Serra da Estrela massif was nearly unknown for the vast majority of the nation. In a time when the nation was poor and the communications all over the country were almost non-existent (worth remembering that the construction of the Portuguese railway system only started on the second half of the XIX century) and the social structure of the contry consisted basically on the small and rich aristocracy and bourgeoisie for one side and the vast analphabet rural population on the other  , a shepherd living in this mountain range might as well be living on Mars.

The place was so remote that, in 1881, the Sociedade de Geografia de Lisboa (est. in 1875) organized an expedition to the area, in order to perform some scientific studies and install the first meteorological observatory - one of the firsts in the whole Europe. Leaded by the Navy Officer Hermenegildo Capelo (a Portuguese Africa explorer, contemporary of Richard Francis Burton), the expedition departed from Lisboa, by railway, with a team of 42 expeditionists. According to a news correspondent of that Era, they were "dressed with a full pack of sheep's wool over them and above that... a revolver against the wolves and pig's bacon against vipers bite".

But regardless that auspicious expedition to the Portuguese Himalayas, the Serra da Estrela massif remained on the next decades a place of wolves, sheep, the fabulous Serra da Estrela cheese and sanatoriums.

Its role as a recreational area started only after the Second World War, when the nation developed and the middle class expanded.

Then, and only then, the Portuguese looked at the Estrela as more than a sanatorium for the cure of tuberculosis.

As the decades rolled by, and with the raising interest in nature tourism and sports by the population, the Serra da Estrela started to show its hidden potential.

Potential that can be resumed in one word... well... two: (meteorological) stability.

Contrary to the other massifs in Europe - namely the Pyrenees and the Alps - subjected to violent and sudden changes in the weather conditions, the Serra da Estrela climate, after the Winter season storms, is gentle and predictable.

This means that you can engage yourself in a full week activity on the mountain without having to look, apprehensively, and every hour, to the barometer.

In this moonlit landscape photo, taken at the crossing near the Centro de Limpeza de Neve (Snow Cleaning Center), in Penhas da Saúde, are pictured the most dramatic geological formations of Serra da Estrela. In this particular place, known to us as the Central Plateau, are visible, in the foreground the Nave de Santo António, with its conspicuous chapel, and on the horizon line - from left to right - the escarpment of Covão do Ferro with its icy corridors, the Cântaro Raso, the Cântaro Magro and the Cântaro Gordo. Behind the Cântaro Raso lies the Torre plateau, the highest place in continental Portugal and not visible in the picture (see The Sno-Cats odyssey in this blog).

Granted, it's not the Himalayas and neither the Alps or even the Pyrenees for that matter. But there are still good conditions in Serra da Estrela for some nice Winter mountaineering activities. Higher than the Scottish peaks, the birthplace of the British technical Winter mountaineering, the Serra da Estrela massif has, nonetheless, a shorter Winter season, meaning that the snow and ice will stay less time on the ground. Also, the global warming is not helping since the temperatures can now change in the massif from minus ten degrees to plus eight or nine during the course of one week. That makes precipitation inconstant.

During one week might be snowing and on the next one it's probably raining.

I miss the full Winter seasons of the late eighties and the early nineties, when the temperatures would stay below freezing for weeks and the conditions for ice climbing were near perfect.

However, we can still be blessed with some years, once in a while, when the mountain keeps its snow cover for a longer period of time.

In the picture, taken on the past 10th of March, my brother Rui reaches the top of a small ice route, not far from the Torre plateau, on the slopes of Covão Cimeiro.

Since Serra da Estrela is our small "playground" for all mountain activities, from mountaineering to ski, we can find on it all the details (on a smaller scale) that are present on the big mountain ranges of the world. That makes, somehow, Serra da Estrela an invaluable school for initiating the younger generations into the wonderful world of the mountain sports and environment.

Not wanting to be left behind in such a typical mountain event, Serra da Estrela has also its avalanches, as you can see, above, on the remains of one, portrayed on the Covão Cimeiro.

They are probably not so dramatic as the ones you can see at the Annapurna basecamp, but an avalanche is an avalanche.

And the same rule applies, either in Nepal and in central Portugal: just make sure you are not below them, when they start to fall.

When we think about Serra da Estrela we think not only about snow and ice but also about sheer rock. Pure, clean and hard granite. Regardless the many sandstone crags equipped in the last twenty years all over the country and responsible for a formation of a full generation of competent sport climbers, and with the utmost respect for a granite massif located on the northern Portugal - and our only National Park - the Peneda-Gerês mountain range, no mountain has contributed more, in Portugal, for the development of technical rock climbing and mountaineering as Serra da Estrela did.

It's our rock climbing cathedral

And if any cathedral has its altar, Serra da Estrela's one is the Cântaro Magro. Raising nearly 500 meteres from its base, near the camping ground of Covão da Ametade, this massive granite monolith is, unquestionably, the symbol of the Portuguese mountaineering.

On the picture above, my brother Rui searches for a nice spot to give proper use of his Pentax K5II, while facing the North-easterly face of the colossus.

 

The Covão da Ametade, pictured here lit by the midnight moon, during the past March, is the usual camping ground in Serra da Estrela for the Portuguese mountaineering community visiting the "serra". The Cântaro Magro stands, in all its greatness, 500 meters above us, making us dream about faraway places and remote mountains. Here it's where all begins.

According to a story we heard, the technicians of Jaguar, the British car maker, highly praise the sunset light in Serra da Estrela, saying it's the best in the world. So, they keep coming to Portugal to direct their commercial videos here. I'm sure they are worldly persons, so I think we must take their opinions for granted. What do you think?

In the picture: sunset in Torre plateau, the highest point in continental Portugal.





Toughness

I cannot stop to be amazed by just how smart these modern altimeter wrist watches really are. Here's a watch which last altitude calibration was more than three months ago. Meanwhile, since then, I've used it sparsely during my work and on my escapades into the mountains.

Today, in the Pico Ruívo mountain hut (at an altitude of 1775 meters), this was the error of the instrument: fifteen meters.

I repeat once again: the altimeter in these watches is a sub function of their barometric sensor. This means that the equipment "guesses" the altitude by the variation of the atmospheric pressure (lower pressure means higher altitude and higher pressure means lower). However, for any given place on Earth, the atmospheric pressure varies with time, due to changing meteorological conditions. In a certain moment in time, in any given place, you might have depression conditions (low pressures) or anticyclonic ones (high pressures). So, the atmospheric pressure, in any place on Earth, is never the same. Never constant.

This factor alone should be a cause for permanent errors in measurements from these equipments.

So, how do they do it? What kind of complex calculation algorithm do they use on these equipments, that narrows the error to 15 meters (in almost two kilometres of altitude)?

In the picture: the reliable Casio G-Shock Riseman Radio Controlled Watch, ref. GW-9200-1ER.

Madeira - First Snowfall of 2014

 

A few pictures of the first snowfall of the present year of 2014 in the mountains of our Madeira island. The pictures were made yesterday (the 16th), in a short walk during the afternoon, when the roads to the central massif were opened by the Forestal Police and the Civil Protection, thus enabling us to hike from the Achada do Teixeira plateau to the Pico Ruívo mountain hut.

The conditions for photography were not the best, because the afternoon on the mountain was grey, windy and wet.

So we skipped the visit to the peak itself, since it served no purpose whatsoever. We remained in the mountain hut area, trying to make the best of the winter conditions laying in front of us.

Through all the hike the air temperature varied between 0ºC and +2ºC and the humidity remained near 100%.

Pictures made at a altitude of 1775 mts, near the mountain hut, with a Nikon D40X and cheap Nikkor 18-55mm f/3.5-5.6 AF-S GII ED DX kit lens. Post-processing in Nikon View NX2 and Adobe Photoshop Lightroom, ver. 4.1.

Impressions of Iceland

Among the several voyages I have made in my short-lived seafaring career, the one I remember most was a Summer voyage, in 2004, to Iceland.

Viewing "The Secret Life of Walter Mitty", a few weeks ago, triggered once again a torrent of emotions, when I remembered the vastness of the Icelandic lunar landscape unfolding before me, as I approached the island-nation from the South, nearly ten days later from our departure from Ceuta.

At the time a Captain of a small coastal vessel, casually promoted, for the sake of the world trade, to the select rank of the "oceanic ships", I, too, did felt a bit like Walter Mitty, when he faces the fact that he is, involuntarily, pushed towards a voyage which he isn't really eager to begin.

I, too, was afraid of the unknown, when, reading that nearly-arrived telex, I was informed by the Norwegian commercial operator that, after leaving the Spanish port where we have been in the past two days, loading a cargo of 3600 tons of salt, we should proceed to Ceuta, for bunkering the amount of fuel necessary for the crossing to Iceland. Iceland???... Sh...!!!!

Needless to say, I wasn't jumping with joy. Those northern latitudes are not really cherished by seafarers. We even call the Icelandic sea the "storm magnet", since all the hurricanes developing over the Gulf of Mexico end up traversing the North Atlantic, en route to Greenland, Iceland and Norway, making a lot of damage on the way.

But ok, it was Summer time and, thank God, the guys (and girls) at Bracknell were issuing some good meteorological prognosis. So the apprehension gave its place to curiosity (just like Walter Mitty) and off we went, in our old, but trustworthy, bucket,  leaving our own neighbourhood, for a ten-days loxodromic crossing of the North Atlantic.

But, except for a few days of rough seas along the coast of Ireland, the crossing was a relaxed one and so it was the Icelandic periplus, jumping from port to port, after reaching the island.

The most impressive view of the island is, certainly, obtained while approaching from the sea. The vast mass of the eternal polar cap - the Vatnajökull - dominates the shape of this arid lunar landscape. In this artic climate nearly no vegetation grows, except small grass.

When I phoned my father and told him that I have arrived to an island the size of Portugal with as may citizens as in Madeira, he answered "God, it's almost unpopulated". It certainly is. However, that is also a part of her mystique.

Icelandic heritage is very well preserved by this nation's citizens. Well kept gardens, houses and public places. Streets were perfectly clean and the quality of life had more to do with the American way of life than with the European one. But that has probably changed in the past years, since the americans left from their air force base of Keflavik, in 2006.

Maintenance works on a church, in a small village on the North coast of the island. Although they have freedom of religion, the vast majority of Icelanders - more than seventy-five percent -  are members of the Church of Iceland, a Lutheran body.

Our good old Wani Venture (IMO nº 9117208) discharging part of her cargo in the Northern port of Dalvik on a perfect Summer day.

The Sno-Cats odyssey

The International Geophysical Year (1957-1958) ended a golden era of Earth exploration. From that year on, there were no more white spots on the world map, no more unknown territories to discover. A total of sixty-seven countries participated on the various IGY projects, focused on the Earth sciences.

The most ambitious of them all was, probably, the Commonwealth Trans-Antarctic Expedition.

Led, simultaneously, by Sir Vivian Fuchs and Sir Edmund Hillary, the expedition crossed the Antarctic plateau (in what became the first overland crossing of Antarctica, via the South Pole), on a journey of 3473 kms, from the Weddell Sea to McMurdo Sound, in just 99 days, from 24 November 1957 to 02 March 1958.

The narrative of the expedition (The Crossing of Antarctica, The Commonwealth Trans-Antarctic Expedition 1955-58, written by the two leaders) is, still today, an amazing piece of literature, on the expeditionary genre. A must-have book in any personal library.

Although the men involved and their team spirit were to be congratulated for such an extraordinary achievement, the fact is that this adventure would never be possible without the cooperation of an amazing vehicle, which name, from then on, became synonym with motorized polar explorations: the Tucker Sno-Cat.

So, why have I decided to write something about it? And doing so, give my two cents worth of conversation in a topic from which I know almost nothing?

Well, because in my early mountaineering exploits in Portugal's highest sierra, in the Winter of nineteen-ninety, and while doing an emergency bivouac in the Torre plateau, at 1993 meters above sea level - the highest point in the continental Portugal -  on the abandoned radar station nº 13 of the Portuguese Air Force, I could hardly imagine that I would see three of those machines, in complete abandonment, inside a vandalized warehouse.

In the Spring of 1990 this was the condition of one of the Tucker Sno-Cats previously owned by the Portuguese Air Force. Inside of the warehouse there were two additional vehicles, not portrayed in the picture. Also abandoned and vandalized. On the left side of the picture you can see a sledge, built by Tucker also, that used to be towed by the Sno-Cats.

The diagonal stripes on the picture are damages on the negatives due to poor storage over the years. Well, ignorance is a blessing... or not. And I've learned the hard way. By the way, that poor figure on the left is yours truly. Twenty-four years and kilograms ago. Pentax SF-1 and Pentax 50mm f/1.7 KAF standard lens. Film: Kodak Ektar 25 ASA negative colour film.

 

The prefix AM on their vehicle registration plates gave no margin for error. These were FAP cars, probably bought during the late fifties, when the radar station (built in 1957) was fully active. During those days, in strong snow storms, the radar station could be inaccessible by road for weeks. So, I imagine, the only solution to keep logistics running on the high plateau was the use of specific made vehicles for snow and ice environments.

Worldwide, at the time, there were only a few makers of these kind of machines. And even today their number didn't really increased.

But the Tucker Sno-Cats, built in Medford, Oregon, USA, are the ones by all the others are judged.

Technically speaking, what differentiates these machines from the others are their patented Four Articulated Track System. In a sense, it's the Egg of Columbus. But they thought about it and the others didn't. Kudos for Mr. E. M. Tucker, Sr.

 It's no surprise that they were in the crossing of Antarctica. And it's also no surprise that a visionary guy, in the Portuguese Air Force of the fifties, in a country without any tradition in polar explorations, and also mountaineering for that matter, decided that these were the best cars for the job.

And, err..., also, they are quite pretty.

Well, 1971 arrived and defense priorities changed, I guess. The Radar Station nº 13 was closed and these three marvellous machines were left to rust.

As far as I can imagine they all are, probably, ending their days in some anonymous scrapyard, in Cova da Beira.

More than ten years later, already in the 21st. century, this was the condition of the same Sno-Cat portrayed above. Outside the warehouse (by this time transformed into a shopping mall) and left to rust by the elements. From the other remaining two... no signs anymore.

 

Which is sad, since in a normal country, ruled by normal and responsible people, these cars should be recovered and placed in a museum. After all, they are public property. Belonging to all of us. Granted, they are not the nobles "Rock N' Roll", "County of Kent", "Haywire" and "Able" of the famous expedition. But they have, nonetheless, the same heritage.

And, to the best of my knowledge, only these three ever existed in Portugal. Now, you tell me: can you really imagine one youngster that wouldn't be amazed, after reading those juvenile books that made all of us dream when we were kids, to see, lively, one of these notable pieces of engineering achievement?

The former installations of the Portuguese Air Force Radar Station nº 13 are located in the highest point above sea level in the continental Portugal: 1993 mts, in the Torre plateau. According to several historians, the granite tower ("Torre") on the left side of the picture was built, by royal order, in the early XIX century, to reach the high of 2000 meters above sea level.

Bee polinizing

Bee polinizing a wild flower near the Achada do Teixeira plateau.

Picture taken handheld with Nikon D40X and Sigma DC 18-50mm f/2.8 EX Macro HSM zoom lens. Post-processing of converted NEF to TIFF file in Nikon View NX 2 and Adobe Photoshop Lightroom, ver. 4.1

Ilhéu Mole on a Winter night

The Ilhéu Mole is a small islet located on the NW coast of Madeira island, near the village of Porto Moniz.

A small lighthouse was erected on its top plateau, powered by solar panels.

Technical details:
Name: Ilhéu Mole lighthouse
Location: North-western coast of Madeira island
Position: 32º 52'N 017º 09''W
Height: 3mts
Focal height: 65mts above sea level
Range: W - 10nm R - 8nm
Characteristic: Fl WR 5s

Picture taken on a stormy evening, a few days ago, with Nikon D610 and Nikkor AF-D 28-105mm f/3.5-4.5. Sirui T 005 travel tripod and ball-head. Post-processing in Adobe Photoshop Lightroom, ver. 4.1

What's a chronometer?

First, let us all agree on one thing: there's no such thing as a hundred per cent accurate time measuring machine. Not even the almighty atomic clocks. Even those have errors (although, on the most perfect ones this means gaining or losing one second in a hundred million years interval). Presently, the champion of precision seems to be the Quantum clocks technology, with a precision of about (take it or leave it two or three hundred million years :-) ) 3.4 billion years. Now, that's accuracy. But still far from perfection, since the estimated age of the Universe is (according to scholars) about 14 billion years. So, these watches are still not error-free, despite looking at this fact with a metaphysical approach.

So, forgetting these marquee players, what are the time-measuring instruments that we all know?

Well, two comes into our minds: the watches and the clocks.

What's the difference between the two? Well, I'm no horologist... but I'd say that it has something to do with portability. A clock is a time-measuring instrument that (due to its size and weight) is supposed to be fixed somewhere (be that the hall of your home, the bridge of a ship or an airplane's cockpit). On the other hand, the watch is a portable one (e.g. a wristwatch or a pocket watch).

And both of them can be (but not necessarily) chronometers. So... what's a chronometer, anyway? Since the web is a little bit short of interesting definitions, let's pick up one from my times as a nautical student (because these instruments were, in fact, created for navigation purposes), in Paço de Arcos, authored by our first year navigation professor.

Contrary to a chronometer, a regular clock is not tested and certified by a regulatory institution and, therefore, cannot be used for nautical calculations. Pictured above, a Marine Master Clock, on the bridge of the M/T Peonia (IMO nº 9313436). The left dial is kept all the time on GMT (or UTC), while the right dial shows the local time of the meridian where the ship is navigating or operating at any given moment. Since this electric master clock is linked to all the remaining clocks aboard (hence the "master"), when you change the time on the right dial (the "slave"), the remaining clocks aboard change too.

 

Definition of a chronometer.

A chronometer is a time-measuring instrument, or (I think, more correctly) machine, which rate (or "marcha", in Portuguese), for a given condition of atmospheric temperature, humidity and pressure, is regular. That is: it gains or looses a certain amount of time over a period of (normally) twenty-four hours. This "amount" of time lost or gained is, usually, expressed in full seconds or in its fractions. How is this defined?

 

Well, there is no actual standard worldwide. And many nations have their own chronometer testing institutes (among the most famous, one comes to our mind: the Swiss COSC). But they all agree on one thing: these (government) institutions are the market regulators in terms of time-measuring machines. So, any common watch - or clock - secretly wishing to be promoted to chronometer has to be subjected to the battery of tests imposed by the national authority on the matter. And, only after passing all of them with flying colours will the wannabe receive the so desired Chronometer Certificate. It's a bit like college: you study, you train and you pass the exams. In the end, you'll have your Degree.

A modern certified quartz marine chronometer, from the British house Lilley & Gillie Ltd, on the bridge of the M/T Peonia. Contrary to the clock pictured above, this particular timekeeping machine sole purpose is to assist the nautical calculations on board.

 

Practical considerations.

By this time, you are already looking at your cheap automatic Invicta with suspicion, thinking that you should have bought a Rolex or a Jaeger-LeCoultre instead. Well, don't.

The fact that you don't own a Chronometer Certificated (C.C.) time machine does not necessarily mean that it's not up to chronometer standards. It just means that the testing of your particular watch or clock was not requested by its maker to the reference institution. Why? Because it costs money. Money that you, the consumer, will pay in the end price. And since most of the watchmakers are already working on high standards, they don't feel the need for an additional expense, leading to a costlier product.

Fact is: the Chronometer Certificate is only valid for the time and place of testing. You leave the laboratory with your newly-certified chronometer and it's already (in a microscope point of view, granted!) behaving differently.

So, what's the use, for the normal people, of a C.C. watch? None, except vanity. In (professional) navigation things are a bit different. Just because in this industry, everything has to be certified. Chronometers are just one thing more in the endless list of certificates that we have to carry on board, ranging from life rafts to shackles.

Chronometers were born to conserve (interesting concept) the time on board with the purpose of longitude calculation.

On the eighteen century, when its use became popular, and while at sea, there was no way to check their accuracy. Hence the need for a high precision movement. Back in those days, a ship would leave the port of Lisboa and would arrive to Rio de Janeiro one month later with no way to check the local time in between. They could only rely on the accuracy of the ships chronometer to all the duties involving time (including the astronomy calculations, for navigation purposes). That was the basis for the C.C.'s: assurance and reliability for the mariners.

They had to know the limits of their clocks for their daily routine aboard. Lets not forget that before this technological advance, everybody was checking time with a sandglass.

Nowadays, things are different.

When I was a Second Mate, on freighters, one of my duties, around noon (besides the bloody Noon Sight astronomical calculation) was to check the daily chronometer rate. For that matter, we would listen one radio station from the USA (but there are others) synchronized with an atomic clock and giving the time signal in the form ...poc... poc... poc............... piiiinnnng... ten hours-twenty-two minutes... poc... poc... poc............ piiinngggg.... etc.

By this (mandatory) procedure, we had the chronometer error updated every twenty-four hours making the need for a certificate of accuracy less important, unless we are talking of a really piece of cr.. time measuring machine.

 

Talking about precision.

Lets face it: any cheap Casio digital watch existing today can have an accuracy of (plus or minus) twenty seconds per month. The quartz technology revolutionized the industry. My Quartz Solar-Powered Casio Riseman G-Shock GW9200 even has Multi-Band Atomic Timekeeping; that is, it makes automatically what I had to do manually as a Second Mate: receives the atomic time signal of several radio stations worldwide and synchronizes, several times a day, with them (as long as you are located within their transmission range). It's virtually errorless. I paid for it 250 Euros. A COSC certified Omega will cost you over three thousand. Which one do you prefer? I know. I do too :-)

Generally speaking, there's not much separating your one hundred Euro "cebola" ("onions" is what we call - in a caring way - in Portugal to the cheaper time pieces) from a four thousand Euros Swiss one. If you know your machine and with some knowledge of what you are doing , you can even use it for accurate navigation calculations. 

The point is a Certified Chronometer is supposed (theoretically) to have a regular rate, by testing standards. That is if it advances it advances, if it looses it looses. On the contrary, a non-certified watch has a non-measured error. It may (or may not) gain one or two seconds in one day, and it may loose that same amount on the next. It may reach the end of a month with exactly the same time of the other. But for accurate work, we have to discard it since we don't have a base to start from. It has nothing to do with precision. It's only a matter of standard testing.

Speaking about precision: you know what is the value of one second of arc in meters, at Equator level, for astronomical navigation purposes?

 

A little navigation.

At Equator level, the Earth has about 40000 kms (or 40.000.000 mts) of circumference, right? And the good ol' Earth is a sphere, right? Since it is circular in shape, we can divide it in 360 degrees, and each degree in 60 minutes and each minute in 60 seconds, right?

Let's do that: 40.000.000/360/60/60 = about 30 mts.

That's the error that you may get in your nautical calculations for every second that your watch forgets.

Today, ships with ten times that distance in length are becoming common. It's a bit funny, if we think of it. You are calculating the position of your bridge wing, not of the ship as a whole (her bow is two hundred meters away).

On the other hand, the best I've managed, in astronomical navigation, was a chart plotting precision, with sextant and chronometer, of roughly half a mile (nearly 900 mts). And believe me: I've trained a lot as a Cadet. I had a Captain that insisted on it.

You know what this value means in terms of time? Thirty seconds. You always have more chances to make a sextant (optical) error than a time one.
I rest my case.

Rural tourism

As the 35th most visited country in the world in 2012 (numbers from the UNWTO), Portugal has, since several decades ago, a mature tourism sector.

The Portuguese hospitality is legendary, and it's rare to find a foreign citizen issuing negative comments on account of a bad touristic experience in our country.

The reasons for this are quite simple: we are a small country and thus (at least for now) quite safe. There are no internal fractures that threatens the nation's social stability, since we, besides being a state, are also a nation (the oldest nation state in Europe, in fact; independent since 1139 and with its sovereignty recognized by the Pope Alexander III, on the year 1179).

On the other hand, we are naturally curious for other cultures. Contrary to the present general philosophy of the so-called (wanna-be)hegemonic states worldwide, we do enjoy to learn. And what a better way to do that than talking to a foreigner. Learning is what we've been doing since the Discoveries.

You don't believe it? Check our globally respected cuisine and you'll know what I mean: you'll find pieces of Africa, the Americas and Asia on it.

So, it's no surprise that, with this modest, interested, down-to-earth and cosmopolitan way of living, our country became a destination for more than 13 million tourists on the past year. You have to recognize that, in a nation of nearly ten million, these are not bad numbers.

Such a strong worldwide demand for Portugal is answered by the country's hospitality industry, which is increasingly complex, year after year.

Nearly forty years ago, after the Carnation Revolution, the country was poor and tourism accommodations were restricted to hotels in the main cities and pensions and hostels in the smaller towns.

Well, a lot has changed since then. Like everywhere in the world, we now have resorts, lodges, motels, you name it.

Increasing in popularity (taking, for that, advantage of the perfect conditions offered by the country for nature tourism) is the rural tourism.

It uses the concept of "casas de campo" (country houses) as accommodation units and it aims at a growing niche in the market: that one of people tired of city noise, pollution and confusion and looking for a more relaxed vacation experience, preferably amidst nature or inserted in a true-to-values community lifestyle.

Portugal has now thousands of these places, many recovered from ancient secular constructions and given a new life from new owners. The autonomous regions of Madeira and Açores are no exception to the national whole.

A couple of days ago, interested in the concept, I accepted a kind invitation from a friend and headed to the North of the island to enjoy a relaxed day, away from the South coast more frivolous existence. The chosen place was the "Moinho do Comandante", or Captain's Mill. Located in the small place of Fajã do Cedro Gordo (São Roque do Faial), this was, previously, an old water mill, used for flour production.

An old building (dated from 1829), the water mill constructed near the Ribeira da Ametade stream changed hands several times in its life until being bought (already in ruins) by the former TAP airline Captain Carlos Melo Vidal in more recent years.

From that time on, an intense reconstruction and expansion work took place, leading to the inauguration, in 1999.

Nowadays, the "Moinho do Comandante", fully integrated in the surrounding landscape, is a fine example of what the "sustainable development" concept means, when particularly related to the tourism industry.

I'm glad to live in a country were thousands of these small good examples keep flourishing.

The "Moinho do Comandante" as seen from the bridge over the Ribeira da Ametade stream...

...and picturing the high peaks above Fajã da Nogueira valley, in the distant horizon.

Covered in green leafs during Spring time, the mill walls exhibit now a more bucolic, autumnal and naked look, nevertheless equally interesting.

The gate bell.

All pictures taken with Nikon D300 and Sigma 70-200mm 1:2.8D APO EX HSM, 18-50mm 1:2.8 EX Macro HSM DC and 10-20mm 1:4-5.6 EX DC HSM lenses. 77mm Hoya HMC Super circular polarizer and Cokin graduated neutral density filters.

Manfrotto 055 NAT3 tripod and 410 Junior Geared Head.

Post-processing of all images in Nikon View NX2 and Adobe Photoshop Lightroom, ver. 4.1

Ribeira da Janela mouth and hydroelectric power plant at dusk

Built in 1965, the hydroelectric power plant of Ribeira da Janela, located in the mouth of the stream bearing the same name, is one of the two (the other being the Central da Calheta de Inverno) that is located at sea level.

Contrary to its higher-altitude sisters, which water is channelled in the famous levadas, after energy production, to irrigate the agriculture fields located in the lower altitudes, the Ribeira da Janela plant is a pure energy-generating unit, losing its water to the ocean nearby, after turbination.

A totally automatic installation, the Ribeira da Janela power plant is remotely operated.

The plant, normally operating just one generator in daylight, activates the second turbine-alternator group at evening time, normally at sunset, when the electrical energy consumption increases.

The Ribeira da Janela power plant is responsible for an yearly average production of 8 GWh.

Picture taken with Nikon D300 and Sigma DC 18-50mm 1:2.8 EX Macro HSM. Manfrotto 055NAT3 tripod and Manfrotto 410 Junior Geared Head.

Conversion of the NEF 14 bits to TIFF 16 bits file in Nikon free View NX2 software. Post-processing of the resulting TIFF file and posterior conversion to JPEG for web publishing in Adobe Photoshop Lightroom, ver. 4.1

First visit of the NRP Arpão

Yesterday, on account of the military exercises (Lusitano 2013) taking place in the island of Porto Santo, comprising air, sea and land operations, we received in the port of Funchal one unusual visitor: the submarine NRP Arpão.

The NRP Arpão is one of the most modern units of the Portuguese Navy and, to the best of my knowledge, is calling Funchal for the first time. Second unit on a class of two (the "Tridente" class) and mostly based on the Type 214 submarine, built by the German consortium HDW, the Tridente and Arpão submarines are, probably, the most sophisticated weapons systems serving in the Portuguese Navy nowadays and meant a giant leap over the previous four ones - the Albacora class, based on the French Daphne - already retired of service.

According to the guys (and girls) that know a little bit about this stuff, these are, presently, the most sophisticated conventional submarines in the world.

And since they are equipped with AIP (Air-Independent Propulsion) - using for that hydrogen cells - they are just one step below, in the food chain, from the dangerous hunter-killers nuclear attack submarines (that these smaller guys, but, nevertheless, with a bad temper, also prey).

Some say that, in certain circumstances, they are even better. What they loose in immersion autonomy and sheer speed (the nuclear ones are faster and with a theoretical endless autonomy), they gain in a stealthier signature and discretion.

The submarine weapons are probably the best kept secrets among the navies of the world. Easily understandable why: it's the perfect weapon by nature. Designed to be stealth and appear everywhere in the world, without warning, launch her weapons and disappear once again in the vastness of the oceans, they can be virtually undetectable while underwater, as long as they keep their mouth shut and don't make a sound.

So it's no surprise that the military are always shy in revealing some operational parameters of these vessels.

Years ago, while still at sea, I spoke a bit with the Chief Mate (the XO in military jargon, right?) of a German submarine alongside in Leixões. When I asked him how deep could they go with that thing, he told me (full of pride for his toy) "that's classified!".

Difficult to explain to these guys that, as a humble civilian that I am, I couldn't care less if they can submerge to three hundred or, otherwise, to four hundred meters. Also, I don't look very Ruskie.

The NRP Arpão, escorted by the APRAM tugboat Boqueirão, approaching the port of Funchal, yesterday, at noon time.

Both lines connected (forward the tugboat Cte Passos Gouveia, and aft the tugboat Boqueirão, both units from APRAM) and proceeding at slow speed and already under towage to the berthing position.

The Officers of the NRP Arpão, positioned on the conning tower (aka "sail" or "fin"), watch the vessel's evolution along the port basin. Except on some rare occasions, the vessels belonging to the Portuguese Navy or to state-owned organisms don't require Pilotage on Portuguese ports. As far as I know, this rule holds true for the vast majority of maritime nations.

Approaching to the berthing place, a floating barge: "hard-a-starboard!", "slow-astern!", "in position!" and "make fast!".

The final cosmetic touch: placing the vessel's name plate on its support.

 

NRP Arpão (general characteristics)

Class: Tridente

Constructor: HDW, Germany

Type: U209PN (a variation of the German type U214 design)

LOA: 67.90 mts

Breath: 6.30 mts

Displacement: 1700 tons (surfaced), 2020 tons (submerged)

Max. depth: more than 300 mts

Range: 22000 kms at 8 kts

Endurance: 60 days

Crew: 33 persons (additional embark of 14 special operation elements - Fuzileiros - possible)

Submerged autonomy (using AIP fuel cells): three weeks? (some authors even claim more)

Speed:

Submerged (using snorkel?): about 22 kts

Submerged (AIP fuel cells): about 6 kts

Surfaced: 10 kts

Weapons: Blackshark torpedoes and Harpoon missiles

 

All pictures taken with Nikon D300 and cheap AF-S Nikkor DX 55-200mm 1:4-5.6 G ED kit lens. Post-processing in Adobe Photoshop Lightroom, ver. 4.1 and Nikon View NX2.

Ribeira da Janela islets

Located at the mouth of Ribeira da Janela stream, on the Northern coast of Madeira island, near the touristic village of Porto Moniz, these islets represent one of the most dramatic landscapes on the North coast of the island.

Generally beaten by strong winds and rough seas, the Ribeira da Janela mouth is, nevertheless, a magical place, although a bit intimidating.

One of the most photographed spots on the island, here you rarely find two days alike.

Picture taken during the past afternoon, with Nikon D300 and Sigma DC 18-50mm f/2.8 EX Macro HSM. Hoya Pro 1 Digital 72mm MC UV10 filter. Manfrotto Junior geared head and 535 MPro carbon fiber tripod.

Post-processing of converted RAW to TIFF file in Adobe Photoshop Lightroom, ver. 4.1

Albatros

The cruise vessel Albatros (IMO nº 7304314) steaming South and photographed, during a nice sunny afternoon, from the deck of the Pilot Boat Ilhéu do Lido, on her departure from Funchal on the past first of November.

Picture taken with the Panasonic Lumix DMC FT3 "combat" camera and post-processed in Adobe Photoshop Lightroom, ver. 4.1

Safety first!

Safety first.

I don't know how many times I've repeated these two words in my mind, like some kind of obsessive mantra, during my Merchant Marine years.

It seems that everything revolves around this sentence on the professional seafaring world, these days. However, a part of me can't help to see this policy as, somehow, hypocritical. Most of these regulations are technology-driven, instead of focused on human resources, like they should, increasingly, be.

With the present strategy, the biggest accomplishment made by IMO is to keep on feeding the gear-driven lobbies proliferating worldwide.

Confronted with the situation, ship owners are forced more and more to upgrade their vessels with some new high-tech stuff year after year.

But that, more often than not, isn't a revolutionary evolution (pardon the pun) in safety of navigation methodology.

Meanwhile, a true revolution still to come, the one focused on the management of human resources aboard is lingering, in slow-motion.

And by that, I don't speak about formation courses slash certification. Those we, seafarers, have already enough. To be at sea, as a professional, we have to collect, presently, a minimum of fifteen to twenty different plastic cards. Does this means that a similar evolution in the safe navigation procedures was accomplished? I don't think so. But they surely look nice on the wallet.

The problem goes deeper than a specific formation (although these are, by no means, less important!) or another credit-card look-a-like endorsement.

It's a question of the minimum safe manning aboard a ship to operate her safely. And these numbers are decreasing year after year, with the adoption of more and more automation systems.

In most areas of shipping (except some specific fields) this policy of crew reduction is already on the red line.

The market discovered long ago that it's profitable to place a single person doing the work of two, particularly if this person can work twice as much. In my opinion (and I think I'm not alone), at sea this is a receipt prone for disaster.

Because nowadays the philosophy is to do more and even more with less and less. And then, at sea, to overcome this, we decorate the cake with a few check-list pages and reports and a handful of assorted safety drills. Just to make all look nicer.

The opposite direction should be the goal of the maritime industry nowadays, in a future reform of the maritime careers. Embraced by seafarers, ship owners and governments alike.

Because the technology, just by itself is not a bullet-proof solution for everything. And the humans crewing ocean-going vessels are not entirely replaceable.

But, and meanwhile we all wait for the tide to change, we might as well remove the lookout from the navigation watch and leave on the bridge just the navigation Officer, with the dead-man alarm switched on.

Just in case the poor guy has a heart attack, when everybody is asleep.

In the picture: watertight door and Security Officer aboard a cruise ship.

Picture taken with Panasonic Lumix DMC FT3 and post-processed in Adobe Photoshop Lightroom, ver. 4.1

Comfort

If I had to find a just a word to characterize the Invicta Grand Diver, model nº 13697, this would be the one.

Still in my quest for cheap automatic movements, I laid eyes on this particular one, while surfing on the Amazon.co.uk.

Already a bit familiar with the Invicta time pieces - and happy for now - it was not that hard to press the "buy" button for this one, particularly because it was, at the time (end of September), at a very affordable price of ninety pounds.

The Invicta Grand Diver, model nº 13697, soon became a winner for me. The case is basically similar to the conventional Grand Divers, like the model nº 3045 and brothers. The difference is that, since in this particular model the crown is located at the two o'clock position, it wears perfectly on the hand for such a big watch. You can move and twist the wrist as much as you like and the watch never gets uncomfortable to use. You never notice that there's a crown on it.

A heavy watch by definition, the "Grand" Diver 13697 is a lovely timepiece to wear, and like all the family, it oozes build quality. The member Pebe, from the Forum Watchuseek, was writing on the mentioned forum, on the past year's October, that "The Grand Diver and Pro Diver lines are the only Invicta's worth owning".
I have to agree with him, so far. In a pure relation price/quality, these watches are unbeatable. Like all the members of the family, its stainless steel bracelet is equipped with a fold over machined clasp with safety lock.

The heart of this timepiece is a NH37A automatic engine, with twenty-four jewels. Built by the Time Module company of Hong Kong, a subsidiary of Seiko-Epson, its accuracy was a surprise for me (more on this later).

The watches' face, showing its dial and counter-clockwise rotating bezel with click stops (120 clicks for a full rotation). The dial is decorated with a sea swell pattern in relief, part of its enchantment. Complications are just two: a date window at four o'clock, with a Cyclops loupe for us Magoos out there, and a second smaller twenty-four hour dial, located at ten o'clock. Regarding the latter one, I still don't really know if I like it or if it is just a waste of dial space and materials.
The fact is this sub-dial is merely a twenty-four hour repeater of the twelve hour larger dial. It's only a way to clear any doubts in your mind regarding the time you are reading: is it two o'clock in the morning or fourteen hundred in the afternoon?
Well, it might prove useful on the polar regions. Imagine yourself as a polar explorer, stationed at the Amundsen-Scott base during the whole Antarctic winter, with absolutely no sun light whatsoever for almost four months. You have to know if it's time for breakfast or for dinner, don't you agree?

Anyway, if you are working in Antarctica, chances are that you are rich enough to use a several thousands Euros Swiss watch, instead of a cheap Invicta, like we, working class heroes, do.

So, my guess is that this second dial will not be that useful. Even on the South pole.
Did I mentioned that its movement is permanently linked to the main hands? So, you can forget any ideas of using it as a second time zone. That, in fact, would be quite a useful application for it.

Grand Diver engravings and diving helmet on the crown. The diving helmet in relief is ok. However, the engraved letters are a tad too much. They are not that shocking, but a cleaner look on the stainless steel case would not be that bad either.

The same on the other side. We know it's an Invicta. It shows on the dial, on the bracelet, on the case back... did I miss some other place?

The "cyclops" is an acrylic loupe glued over the mineral crystal, to allow for a better vision of the calendar. The one on mine, due to my professional marine life, is already scratched (see the shadow between the "2" and the "7"?). The world is divided between the "Cyclops" haters and lovers. It's up to you to join any of the factions.

If you are against and want to remove it, check the video of rtomson on Youtube. Kids, don't try this at home.

The Grand Diver model 13697 on my wrist. A lovely and cheap piece of watchmaking.

 

Accuracy test:

Synchronising (08-Oct-2013):

Watch:             23h56m00s

GMT website: 23h56m00s

Compared (19-Dec-2013):

Watch:             20h54m36s

GMT website: 20h47m00s

Note:
The watch was not serviced yet. It's still on factory regulation.

 

I've used the GMT website to check the watch accuracy. Although this is not as valuable as an accurate test with more sophisticated instruments, we can assume the error of the website in just a couple of seconds. If we refresh the web page, while taking the measurements, so that both clocks show exactly the same time, we can assume that we have a precise time calculation.

Based on that fact, we can consider that (in the measured time interval from 08 Oct 2013 to 19 Dec 2013 - about 6.209.460 seconds) the watch advanced in relation to the Greenwich time the sum of 7 minutes and 36 seconds or 456 seconds.

Therefore:

                              6209460 s ------------- 456 s

                                  86400 s ------------- x          (being 86400 s the number of seconds in a 24h day)

 

x=(86400*456)/6209460= aprox. 6.3448 seconds of advance per each 24 hours period.

 

Not bad for such a cheap watch, equiped with a China-made-under-Japanese-specifications automatic machine.

Ships 'n' boats

Boats...

The Pilot boat Cte Cristiano de Sousa, our oldest in operation (and still roaring), leaving the port of Porto Santo, yesterday at sunset, and taking me to the container-carrier Funchalense 5, of the Portuguese company Empresa de Navegação Madeirense, a centenary Portuguese shipowner still working.

 

Ships...

An amateur photographer, positioned on the port of Porto Santo North breakwater, shoots a video sequence of the ferry Lobo Marinho approach and berthing, today, around 1000AM.

Both pictures taken with Nikon Coolpix P7100 and post-processed in Adobe Photoshop Lightroon, ver. 4.1

Club Med II

The Club Med 2, one of the largest sailing vessels in the world, pictured here alongside the key nº 2 of Pontinha breakwater, in Funchal, was my manoeuvre of the day.

Built in 1992 on the Havre, in France, she's one of our "twice-a-year" visitors. During the Northern Hemisphere Summer this five-mast ship stays in the European waters, navigating mostly on the Mediterranean, and heading to the Caribbean in October.

Pilot Card:

Ship's name: Club Med 2

IMO number: 9007491

Type: Cruise ship

LOA: 187 mts

Beam: 20 mts

Gross tonnage: 14983

Displacement: 7671.1 tons (light ship)

Max draft on manoeuvre: 5.30 mts

Propulsion: Diesel-electric, two variable, inward turning, pitch propellers, total propulsion power: 5890 KW

Rigging: Five mast schooner, about 2400m2 sail area.

Rudder: 2 Becker rudders

Bow thruster: 1 (1000 HP)

Stern thruster: 1 (800HP)

 

Picture taken with Panasonic Lumix DMC-FT3 and post-processed in Adobe Photoshop Lightroom, ver. 4.1