Russian wreck - El Pajar

Nothing here reads as a single coherent hull anymore. What's left of the Meteor-series hydrofoil lies scattered across the sand at 15 to 18 metres: rows of passenger seating in one spot, the engine block in another, smaller fittings including a toilet further along. Because the structure is open rather than a sealed compartment, exploring it means swimming among and over the wreckage rather than penetrating anything, a meaningfully different experience from the intact cabin divers could once enter here.

Large shoals of grunts and sizeable barracuda use the open framework and surrounding sand as territory, and octopus commonly shelter around the engine parts. Electric rays, common stingrays and butterfly rays turn up regularly on the sand nearby, and angel sharks are reported often enough to be worth watching for. Current isn't constant here. Some days are flat calm; a dive-log entry mentioned a strong current running on at least one visit, which is worth knowing before you assume this is always a gentle drift among the wreckage.

Of the five south-coast sites in this cluster, this is the only confirmed wreck. That alone marks it out from the volcanic and lava-stream reefs and the engineered concrete modules nearby, but the wreck's own history adds to it: a vessel that broke its moorings, sank, and then kept changing shape under storm damage for years afterward.

Its open, scattered state today is arguably more approachable than its earlier years as an intact hull, since there's no enclosed space to manage and no penetration training required to see everything it has to offer. Divers looking for structure and marine life in one dive, without the depth or navigation demands of a technical wreck, get both here at a straightforward 15-18 metres.

This wreck is a Russian-built Meteor-series hydrofoil, a passenger ferry that broke its moorings in Arguineguín harbour during a storm in late 2003. It suffered serious stern damage and sank near the cement factory at El Pajar. For a few years afterward it reportedly sat largely intact and upright, accessible enough that divers could enter the main cabin and cockpit as a first wreck-diving experience.

A further storm in late 2006 broke the hull apart, and it has continued to deteriorate under current and storm action since. One account claims the wreck was later partially cleared by the authorities to protect port access, but that detail hasn't been corroborated elsewhere and is treated here as unconfirmed. What's certain is the transformation: the same vessel that once offered penetration diving now offers a debris field instead.

Expect sharp and unstable metal edges rather than a clean hull. Storm damage since 2006 has left broken sections scattered across the sand, and gloves are worth having even though there's no reason to touch the wreck itself. Current isn't guaranteed calm on any given day, so treat the site with the same surface-marker discipline you'd use anywhere else on the coast.

The same Canary Islands rules apply here as anywhere on this coast: bring a computer, something to cut a line with, a marker buoy, and a way to signal on the surface. Whatever you find scattered on the sand, from seating to fittings, leave it exactly where it is. Depth stays within Open Water limits throughout, so this is accessible without technical wreck training, though the broken, open structure rewards a slower, careful swim over a fast fin kick across it.