Galician ports: what might have been but never was

By Álvaro J. Díaz-Mella

The sea does not care at which port a ship docks. Yet, for too long, the notion has taken hold that our ports were competing against one another, when their true rivals have always been outside Galicia.

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I was fortunate enough to be born facing the sea, barely seven hundred meters from the Vigo estuary. The port is part of my earliest memories: Vaurien sailing lessons, going fishing for *panchitos* with my father, and—as a teenager—earning my first wages unloading crates of bananas arriving from the Canary Islands or keeping watch at night to ensure that grain unloaded from ships moved correctly through the hopper and into the trucks waiting on the dock. I have known that port since before I even understood what it was. That is why I find it particularly hard to accept that Galicia, with all its assets, has failed to conceive of its ports as a cohesive, sustainable system.

Galicia boasts one of the most extensive and complex coastlines in Spain. Few regions possess such an expansive port network, such a rich maritime tradition, and such a favorable geographic location. Vigo is an international benchmark in fishing, the automotive industry, and refrigerated cargo logistics; La Coruña plays a key role in specific energy-related shipping sectors; Ferrol maintains a strategic position linked to shipbuilding and repair; and Marín and Villagarcía are vital components in the handling of bulk and general cargo. Ports are not interchangeable, and for that very reason, there is no need to standardize them or turn some into mere branches of others. Each one should develop its own strengths within a shared strategy.

However, that common strategy never solidified into a sustained and verifiable policy. There were sectoral plans, isolated investments, and coordination meetings, but no leadership capable of turning those initiatives into shared priorities, measurable results, and a joint defense of Galicia’s interests before Madrid and Brussels. The Xunta does not unilaterally determine state port policy, the European network, or railway investments. Yet, for thirty-eight of the forty-five years of regional autonomy, it has had ample capacity to manage land use, promote logistics hubs, coordinate priorities, and advocate before the central government with a unified Galician stance. The PPdeG—formerly Alianza Popular—has had plenty of time to do so. It failed to act with the continuity Galicia required. Added to this regional responsibility are the decisions made by various Spanish national governments, provincial councils, and numerous municipalities, where the PP, PSOE, and BNG have shared governing responsibilities depending on the level of government and the time period. However, spreading the blame should not serve to dilute it: the party that has governed Galicia the longest bears the greatest responsibility for explaining why we still lack a common port policy.

The cost of this lack of coordination is evident, for instance, in Vigo. The port handles a significant share of Galicia’s high-value-added cargo, including automotive products, containers, fresh fish, and refrigerated goods. In 2025, it handled 5.5 million tonnes, over 674,000 vehicles, and approximately 309,000 TEUs. Yet, Vigo remains excluded from the Trans-European core network—the TEN-T network’s priority category for the 2030 horizon. La Coruña, by contrast, is part of that network. It is not a matter of pitting one city against another, but rather of asking whether Galicia can afford to keep a port with Vigo’s logistical and industrial profile out of that category.

The issue is not whether or not Vigo has a railway. The problem is that its freight connections still fail to offer a sufficiently competitive alternative to road transport for a significant portion of port traffic. Improving rail access and the logistics hubs linked to the port is not merely a symbolic demand; it is a prerequisite for cutting costs, attracting industrial activity, and genuinely connecting Galicia to major European corridors. Ferrol—whose naval and industrial sectors also require modern, competitive rail integration—faces similar challenges. When two ports with such distinct roles suffer from accessibility constraints, the issue ceases to be a merely local grievance; it reveals a broader regional deficiency.

Leixões is the mirror in which Galicia should look—albeit uncomfortably. Northern Portugal’s main port combines energy and bulk cargo traffic with a much stronger position in container and general cargo, all while driving new investments to boost its logistics capacity. In 2025, it handled over 708,000 TEUs—compared to Vigo’s figure of just over 309,000—and plans are in place to reach a capacity approaching one million TEUs. Galicia’s port authorities as a whole handle a higher total tonnage, but aggregate tonnage is not enough if a significant share does not translate into a stronger presence in the traffic flows that drive international logistics chains. The real competition was never in the neighboring estuary, but rather in Leixões, Sines, Rotterdam, or Antwerp. We have spent too long looking inward at ourselves when we should have been looking outward toward the Atlantic. The Miño border does not stop goods or ships, yet for too long, it has limited our ability to think big.

It is not a matter of eliminating Port Authorities or creating yet another bureaucratic structure that adds more positions and meetings to those already in place. Rather, the goal is to coordinate objectives, specialize cargo flows, avoid redundant investments, and remove obstacles that delay necessary projects. Institutions must listen much more closely to those who know the sector from the inside —and who possess experience that does not always reach the decision-makers—while also transparently explaining which investments are being prioritized, the reasons behind them, and the expected outcomes. When public funds are involved, no one should ask for blind faith; they should provide an account of the facts.

We already made a similar mistake with the airports. We confused defending individual infrastructure with competition between cities, and that rivalry benefited outsiders. Ports are not the same as airports, yet the risk of repeating the same logic remains. Defending Vigo should not mean harming La Coruña, Ferrol, Marín, or Villagarcía. Defending Galicia is precisely about ensuring that each one contributes more to the whole than is lost through internal rivalry.

Galician ports do not belong to one city or another; they are a shared asset. When I was a child watching the ships from the dock, I didn't think about strategies or logistics corridors. I thought about how big the world was and everything that flowed in and out through that estuary. That feeling holds true today: for me, the world enters and leaves through Vigo every day. What has been lacking for too long is not sea access, activity, or entrepreneurial capacity. What has been missing is the political will to seriously capitalize on these assets, to champion Galicia’s strengths abroad, and to ensure our ports add value rather than detract from it.

Álvaro J. Díaz-Mella
Vigo, October 2026

Sources:

• Puertos del Estado, Statistical Yearbooks of the State-Owned Port System.
• Port Authority of Vigo, port traffic statistics and data.
• Ministry of Transport and Sustainable Mobility, investments for the Northwest.
• Ministry of Transport and Sustainable Mobility, Atlantic Corridor actions and investments.
• APDL (Administration of the Ports of Douro, Leixões, and Viana do Castelo), institutional information and statistics for the Port of Leixões.
• Investment Porto, Port of Leixões investment plan through 2035.

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Translation: Elentir. Photo: Elentir. Guixar merchandise port, in Vigo.