Lorraine Williamson
On Murcia’s southeastern coast lies Portmán Bay, once a thriving fishing hub and postcard Mediterranean cove. Today, it is remembered less for its beauty than for one of Europe’s most staggering ecological disasters.
What was once clear blue water is now smothered under decades of industrial waste — a scar so deep Greenpeace has called it “the greatest ecological assault on the Mediterranean.”
A toxic inheritance buried, not removed
Earlier this year, the Spanish government abandoned its promise to restore the bay. Instead of removing the mine tailings stretched kilometres out to sea, officials opted to cover the poisoned soil with sand. The plan is presented as pragmatic, sparing the risks of disturbing toxic sediments. But for local residents and environmentalists, it feels like surrender — an admission that Portmán will never truly recover.
Decades of mining, generations of damage
The disaster traces back to 1957, when the French firm Peñarroya began tipping heavy-metal-laden waste into the bay. By the time the practice stopped in 1990, more than 60 million tonnes had been dumped, advancing the coastline by half a kilometre. Lead, arsenic, and other toxins seeped into the water, contaminating marine life and reshaping the very geography of Murcia’s coast.
Politics in the sandstorm
The fallout in Madrid has been fierce. Ecological Transition Minister Sara Aagesen insists that full removal of the waste is technically unworkable and could spread pollution further. But critics say she has walked away from decades of political pledges. The row erupted dramatically when Senator Francisco Bernabé of the Partido Popular theatrically handed her a pouch of Portmán’s toxic sand in the Senate chamber — a stunt that underlined both the symbolism and the bitterness of the debate.
Health risks that never went away
Studies by the University of Murcia and police laboratories confirm what campaigners already feared: the bay’s sand is laced with heavy metals capable of causing serious health problems, from stomach pains and dizziness to seizures. International safety guidelines warn that such substances should never be allowed to circulate in the environment. For Portmán’s residents, however, they are not hidden away in sealed bags — they are part of daily life.
Galicia´s long buried nuclear legacy
A paradise lost, a future stalled
For Joaquín Zapata, mayor of nearby La Unión, the decision to bury the waste marks “the death knell for the bay and the region.” Dreams of transforming Portmán into a magnet for tourism and eco-restoration have been shelved. What remains is a cautionary tale of how short-term industrial gain can destroy landscapes for generations — and how political will often falters when faced with the true scale of ecological repair.
Source: El Mundo