Daily Local News (West Chester, PA)

Brazil’s Ilha Grande has what Rio does not — clean beaches

- By Peter Prengaman

a watch, or a tie or cars.”

For foreign and Brazilian tourists alike, that slowed developmen­t means this tropical island can offer something Rio de Janeiro and surroundin­g areas have not been able to for years: clean beaches. Ultimately it was a search for unsullied ocean, where my wife and I would feel comfortabl­e letting our three young sons swim, that attracted us.

The island is a three-hour trip from Rio, but no highway or bridge connects it to the mainland. Several boats a day traverse a small stretch of sea from three different ports. The relative isolation means cell phone service is spotty, and Internet often feels nonexisten­t. In short, it’s a place to disconnect while feeling strong connection­s because everybody appears to know everybody.

“Oh, you are going to the place of Alex, the French guy,” a man told me after we arrived in Abraao and asked directions to Bica Beach. “Let me get you a taxi boat.”

Our Airbnb bungalow was another 10 minutes away by wobbly motorboat. Then we climbed the equivalent of six flights of stairs on a steep path through lush tropical forest. All the huffing and puffing and sweating felt worth it once there. Looking down, we saw blue ocean waters while monkeys jumped between trees.

The island, about 77 square miles (200 square kilometers), is pristine in large part because of an unusual history going back to the 16th century Portuguese colonizati­on. It has been a pirates’ lair, a leper colony and most recently, home to a maximum security penitentia­ry that housed some of Brazil’s most violent criminals, along with political prisoners during part of the 1964-1985 dictatorsh­ip.

Various rebellions and headline-grabbing escapes created headaches for islanders and kept investors away. In 1994, however, the Candido Mendes prison was closed and demolished. A few years later, the State University of Rio de Janeiro opened a research center to study the environmen­t and sustainabl­e developmen­t.

Today, there are numerous pousadas, or guest houses, in Vila do Abraao, which has about 3,000 residents. There are also offbeat places to stay, from beachfront villas to isolated jungle dwellings. Companies offer excursions that range from some of Brazil’s best snorkeling and scubadivin­g to walking tours through rainforest­s teeming with life. Then there are the dozens and dozens of beaches that are both postcard-worthy and often empty.

“Look at this water,” said Felipe Ricardo Brito, who sells caipirinha­s, a mix of the national alcohol cachaca and limes, on Feiticeira Beach. “It’s totally clean. There is no sewage. You can breathe pure air.”

That is not the case on most beaches in and around Rio de Janeiro, the city that hosted the 2016 Summer Games. An 18-month investigat­ion by The Associated Press during the run up to the Olympics found dangerousl­y high levels of bacteria and viruses in Rio beaches. Only a little more than half of the sewage in Rio is treated, meaning that each day tons of fecal matter ends up in the Guanabara Bay and surroundin­g beaches.

Still, while Ilha Grande doesn’t have a sewage problem, it’s far from an environmen­tal paradise. For example, amid a deep economic crisis in the country, the island has struggled with garbage collection.

Earlier this year, the island captured national headlines when hundreds of bags of garbage were strewn throughout Vila do Abraao. The local government switched garbage providers and has promised to regularize service. Still, the problem periodical­ly pops up, irking islanders and creating eyesores. When we visited in February, crabs could be seen among the garbage.

There are also worries about overdevelo­pment. Much of the island is protected wildland, but Brazil has a history of big money interests winning out against environmen­tal protection­s. Last year, the environmen­tal secretary of the state government invited Ilha Grande residents to present ideas about the future, from developmen­t projects to environmen­tal issues. While billed as a way to build consensus, many residents were suspicious that it was really just a precursor to ramming through big changes.

As the island opens up, its industries and demographi­cs are changing. While fishing is still a central industry for many residents, increasing­ly fishing and crab boats are used to ferry around tourists. And some tourists like it so much that they are finding ways to stay.

“Now there are Argentines, Brazilians from other states and hippies living here,” said Selma dos Santos Garcia, a 34-year-old Ilha Grande native who sells snacks on the beaches. “And we are at the mercy of tourists.”

 ?? PETER PRENGAMAN — THE ASSOCIATED PRESS ?? In this photo, men play paddle ball on one of the many beaches of Ilha Grande, Brazil. The tropical island remains pristine in large because of an unusual history that includes being a pirate refuge, leper colony and site of a major prison. Still,...
PETER PRENGAMAN — THE ASSOCIATED PRESS In this photo, men play paddle ball on one of the many beaches of Ilha Grande, Brazil. The tropical island remains pristine in large because of an unusual history that includes being a pirate refuge, leper colony and site of a major prison. Still,...
 ?? PETER PRENGAMAN — THE ASSOCIATED PRESS ?? In this photo, men dance capoeira on one of the many beaches of Ilha Grande, Brazil. About three hours from Rio de Janeiro, the tropical island remains pristine in large because of an unusual history that includes being a pirate refuge, leper colony...
PETER PRENGAMAN — THE ASSOCIATED PRESS In this photo, men dance capoeira on one of the many beaches of Ilha Grande, Brazil. About three hours from Rio de Janeiro, the tropical island remains pristine in large because of an unusual history that includes being a pirate refuge, leper colony...

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