This was meant to be my moment. For the third time, I journeyed to the legendary Piscina Natural da Ponta da Ferraria, and for the third time, fate—or the ferocity of the Atlantic—intervened. Twice before, I had been driven away by foul weather or poor planning. This time, armed with new lava shoes and a burning resolve, I set aside a precious late Sunday afternoon in the first week of October. The air was turning crisp; this felt like my last stand against the dying light of summer.

The Road Down: A Warning in the Wind

The drama began immediately. A recent landslide had sealed the lower road, forcing me to abandon my car and begin a long, winding descent down the narrow, serpentine switchbacks. This long walk wasn’t the lonely trek of a ghost story; I passed a few fellow determined souls, proving that even as the season cools, Ferraria’s call is strong. But it was far from the crush of humanity I’d heard about. The emptiness of the main parking lot was a stark visual clue—a warning that the easy-going days of summer were over. I heard the ocean before I saw it, a low, constant roar amplified by a brisk wind.

I finally reached the base, passing a deserted snack bar and an empty, cool-water pool. Thankfully, the facility—with its WC, shower, and changing rooms—was open, though equally quiet. But the small victory of arrival dissolved into a wave of profound disappointment.

The Thermal Betrayal

The thermal pool itself, the prize I had trekked for, was a maelstrom. Where there should have been a gentle, steaming embrace, there was only a violent chaos of sea and heat. High tide, combined with a relentless 10 to 20 mph wind, had transformed the entrance ladder into a death trap. Massive waves—not water, but pure, unbridled power—crashed over the steps. To attempt entry would have been less a swim and more a suicide pact with the Atlantic. The world’s most unique thermal bath, the place where the earth’s fire meets the ocean’s cold, was in a state of open war, and it had unequivocally rejected me.

My grand plan had been ruined by the very elements that make this island so spectacular.

To stave off utter defeat, I quickly retreated to a higher, safer wading pond. I stood for a few desolate moments in the room-temperature water, inaugurating my new lava shoes out of bitter necessity. The water was mundane, but it was a small act of defiance. At least I got wet.

Face to Face with A Porta do Diabo

Shaken but not defeated, I began to explore the rugged coastline. It was then that I stumbled upon a true spectacle: A Porta do Diabo, or The Devil’s Door.

This colossal wave-cut arch in the black lava cliff is a terrifying demonstration of nature’s might. As you can see in my video, the waves, already raging, funneled through the opening with explosive force, slamming against the interior walls. Watching it on a day of such high winds, you understand the name instantly. To be trapped inside that cauldron on a kayak or surfboard would truly be to experience hell on earth. It was a visceral, thunderous reminder of the power I had just narrowly avoided. It showed me the sheer, elemental force that had carved this landscape and that had denied me entry to the thermal pool.

This third attempt was a dramatic failure, yet it confirmed the raw, unique majesty of Ferraria. The tantalizing idea of a thermal bath meeting the ocean—a geological impossibility rendered real—still calls to me. But next time, the approach will be strategic. I will consult the high and low tides, study the weather for wind and rain, and choose my moment with the precision of a master thief. For this place is not a gentle tourist spot; it is a primal, powerful site that demands respect.

Have you ever visited a spot where a thermal spring meets the ocean? Tell us about your experience!