We moved quickly down the islands to the fishing port of Quellón. It was a good place for us to wait for good weather to cross back to the mainland for our trip south. We had been thinking about where we could leave BREILA while we made a trip to Argentina to renew our tourist visas. Strangely, the boat gets 4 months and we only get three. We started our crossing of the 45 mile wide Golfo de Corcovada with a forecast for NW 10-15 kts. We had a great sail for 30 miles and then looked behind to see a very black weather system approaching. Before long we had 15-20 kts, still not bad, but torrential rain reduced visibility to 500 meters. We were heading for another place called Añihué, this one a very sheltered anchorage tucked behind some nasty rocks. We made it to our destination with our eyes glued to the radar. Once behind the rocks we easily found our anchorage.

This was our first time to practice our shore-tying techniques. Each sailboat here has at least 4 100-meter shore lines somewhere on deck. Ours are in three bags and one in a laundry basket - not pretty but it works. Many of the anchorages are very deep and/or small. We'd drop the main anchor and back up to the shore, dive in the dinghy and row madly for the chosen tree or rock dragging the floating shore line behind, scramble up the rocks and tie off . All this before the wind and current carried us too far into the hazard we're avoiding. We got settled in and a dinghy approached. It was a character we'd heard about nicknamed "Bear", a young Chilean who spends 6 months "smoke jumping" in the USA and the balance living an eco-friendly existence on his small property. We spent an enjoyable afternoon the next day while he showed us his farm. There was a sheep grazing, but tied to a tree. He told us he'd had 4 until a few days before, when a Puma killed 3 of them. He was quite philosophical about it, but he wasn't letting his last chance at a lamb dinner get too far away. Next day we explored the extensive lagoon entered by a shallow narrows behind our anchorage. Lots of waterfowl sightings for our bird book. Bear paddled his kayak over later in the evening with two nice fish and we enjoyed a evening aboard BREILA.

Our choice for a place to leave BREILA while we went to Argentina to renew our tourist visas was the new little marina built by a wealthy Chilean for his own boat in Puyuhapi, a small community 60 miles from Bear's home. The weather had moderated by the time we left, and we either had the wind from behind or none at all. We anchored for a night at the pricy Termas de Puyuhuapi, though we didn't use their moorings or go ashore, as we couldn't justify the $35/person day-use fee. But it is a fabulous resort. The next morning as we sailed the 10 miles up the narrow inlet, we took photos of our Chilean friends' new boat, ANAKENA, under sail. Arturo and Sonja joined us at the marina in Puyuhuapi. They shared their extensive local knowledge and we gave them copies of the photos we had taken. They were pleased, as they wanted a photo for their boat cards.

Now we were ready to start our five-day inland tour. Since Mike has a Welsh heritage, he particularly wanted to visit Argentina's Welsh settlements prevalent throughout the province of Chubut. We asked around town for the schedule for the buses. Though there appeared to be quite a few options, the schedules were all uncertain on timing and if we could even board midway through their routes. Our plan was to travel 150 km south on the Carretera Austral to Coyhaique, from where we could get a bus into Argentina. The 1200 km Carretera Austral is a project similar to the Alaska Highway. Initiated by Pinochet in1980 at a cost of $300 million US, the highway is the only Chilean road link from north to south Patagonia. About half is now paved, the rest a combination of good gravel or washboard. As we waited for a bus the next day, the "scheduled" time came and went, and about an hour later a small Volkswagen bus pulled up. Fifteen dusty passengers got out to stretch - no room for sure on that bus! We lucked out and caught a "real" bus that arrived an hour later, with two seats remaining. The ride out of Puyuhuapi was amazing. We were up in the mountains surrounded by hanging glaciers, the scenery more and more spectacular as we rounded every corner.

We made it to Coyhaique and next morning we rushed early to the bus station to find that there was only one bus heading to Argentina that day - with two seats left. We booked as far as Sarmiento, a farming town on the pampas, not visited much by tourists, but an interesting area renowned for it's petrified forest and dinosaur fossils. We found that there was a bus travelling north that night and got the last 2 seats again. (Sooner or later our luck would run out.) The bus was an overnighter. These are common in South America, especially great for making tracks across the vast expanses of the pampas. It was a semi-cama (half bed) with a fully reclining seat, blankets, pillows, movies, draperies - a very comfortable ride. The next morning we awoke to stunning vistas of high pampas valleys, all lush and green. The town of Esquel is famous for 2 things: 1) it is the end of the Patagonia Express railroad, a narrow gauge (0.75m) railway that until very recently was still run as a commercial operation for its entire 450km length and 2) its Welsh heritage. Many streets and businesses still have Welsh names and there is an active Gaelic language school, which we visited. Welsh could often be heard being spoken in town. We got tickets for the train, La Tronchita, and travelled in one of the original  wooden passenger cars complete with pot bellied stove and toilet that was not much more than a hole in the floor and two footpads. It departed on time and we travelled 30km to the Mapuche hamlet of Nahuel Pan. Here the engine turned around to pull the cars the other way back to Esquel. It was a fun trip well worth the effort to get there. The next morning we caught the local bus to Trevelin, 22km to the south west. If possible, this town is even more Welsh than Esquel. The early settlers here were very prosperous. They built their own hydro power plant and flour mills, which now house one of the more interesting museums we've seen. Finding out about the buses that would take us back to Chile was about as difficult as at Puyuhuapi, we were given approximate times and directions. We hiked out to the cross road and waited at the police patrol point of the bus to arrive "sometime". A few hours later, the bus arrived and we jumped aboard for the 1 hour trip to the border crossing at Paso Futaleufú. It was like something from an old movie. The bus dropped us off at the edge of a dusty no-mans land and we trekked over into Chile. We never did see an Argentine check point so who knows what you do coming the other way. We filled out the many forms, and answered some odd questions, happy to get through with our new tourist visas and the 5 kilos of cheese we'd bought in Argentina.

From the crossing, we looked for a local bus for the 30 kms to Futaleufú. Not a one in site. After stumbling 2 km along a rough gravel road, a pick up truck stopped and offered us a ride, so we jumped in the back. Arriving in town we were told that the truck was in fact a "collectivo" a subtle change from rusty pick up, but we gladly paid his fee. We found a great B&B and went out for dinner. "Futa" is a very popular destination for eco-tourism, fly-fishing and river rafting. We wouldn't have time to enjoy any rafting, but the next day we did see the river for 40 km of it's spectacular run. Getting out of Futa was not so easy, the only bus leaving town was sold out, but we got 2 cancelled seats. We got on the bus which immediately broke down. We limped to the edge of town and woke up the mechanic. After a few hours he pronounced it dead and they miraculously appeared with a new bus. They dropped us off at the tiny cross road village of Villa Santa Lucia where eventually another Volkswagen van showed up. This time about 20 people unfolded from the bus, but our luck held, you could say we got the last 2 seats on the bus again. Except we got one seat for Cath and Mike stood on the doorstep jammed against the conductor for the next 100 km. But he did finally get a seat for the last 100 km. We were thankful to land safely in Puyuhuapi and get back to BREILA. We had covered 350 km of the Carretera and 800 km of Argentine pampas in 5 days.

Our next goal was to get to Chacabuco to meet our friend who would join us for the trip down to Laguna San Rafael. We settled our marina bill, hijacked the weekly vegetable truck on his way south from Puerto Montt to O'Higgins and off we went. It is only about 65km as the crow flies to Chacabuco but over 125 nautical miles by boat. The weather continued to be hot and sunny and we had a great trip to the top of Seno Aysén, the long channel leading to Chacabuco. On the way we stopped at what was to be another BREILA favourite, Puerto Santa Rosario -not a port at all, just a very fairly sheltered bay. Our first night there we watched a spectacular sunset and later heard footfalls on our deck. It sounded like a dog with long claws walking around. Our nocturnal visitor was a chungungo, a rare sea otter, hunted almost to extinction for its pelt. It wandered around our deck and eventually found its way under our dinghy which was over our forehatch. We lay in the v-berth and watched him as he stared down at us. He stayed for quite a while, having  likely arrived on board via climbing the anchor chain. The next day as Mike checked our shorelines, he took shelter from a rain squall in one of the fuchsia bushes that grow as big as a small tree. In moments he was surrounded by hummingbirds who thought his red fleece jacket was a very big flower!

The light rain of the day before was a warning for things to come. By evening that day we had almost torrential rain coming through as each small front passed. Our passage down Seno Aysén was brisk. At the west end winds were 15 knots, but by the time we were halfway down the 12 mile long seno, we were running before 40 kts with just a tiny piece of our jib flying. It was a very quick trip thankfully and as we reached the end the seno opened out to 2 miles wide and the wind almost quit. We entered Chacabuco harbour and waited for high tide so that we could enter the very shallow Ensenada Baja (lower cove). We followed the directions in one of our guide books, heading to each waypoint as we hand steered. What a mistake. The margin of error was very small; at one point we sailed on through 2 meters of water with our 2.1 meter draft, eventually grinding to a halt on the edge of the silty channel. We easily powered off and headed to the top of the bay and anchored in 4 meters. We completed our check-in and provisioned for the next three weeks. We were waiting to pick up Leslie who had flown from Ecuador to join us. Meanwhile, we got a chance to meet a fascinating guy, Rodrigo Azocar, a Chilean who was born on the remote outer islands, and also spent many years in the merchant marines. He loves to meet cruisers, and we enjoyed his many tales of the sea.

After getting a new zarpe with Leslie added as crew we headed out for our furthest south destination for this year, Laguna San Rafael. We were lucky in that the rain and prevailing wind let us get out of Seno Aysén, in fact we had to motor the entire 12 miles. We made it around the corner and anchored in a snug anchorage as the weather forecast was for very strong north winds overnight. We ended up staying in Caleta Santiago for 2 nights as the north winds blew. This was also our first experience with rachas, the Chilean version of williwaws. We had anchored in the very small inner bay, dropped our anchor and pulled 2 lines to shore. We were just about to start dinner at dusk when the first racha hit. It sounded like a freight train coming at us. One minute it was dead calm, the next we were almost on our side. We rushed out, checked the wind speed as another hit us. It showed only 20 kts at the masthead, though the wind was rushing over the hill ahead of us, hitting the water and us at 50+ kts. Amazing. Mike quickly jumped in the dinghy to pull a line ahead but couldn't row against the rachas, so we attached the outboard and got one of our 3/4" lines out ahead. We snugged all the lines and sat in our spider web. The rachas continued for a few hours but we didn't get knocked down again, just pushed around a little. Two days later we left our anchorage to find the wind had shifted to the north, as we ran down the relatively narrow Canal Costa we crossed tacks with CAPISTRANO, the New Zealand yacht who's owner, Ted, we had heard on the morning net as he headed north from San Rafael. We chatted for a while on VHF as he headed back to Chacabuco to drop off visitors. Caleta Lynch, our next destination, is reportedly of the safest anchorages in northern Patagonia. We gave it a test as the next 2 nights were as bad as the preceding ones. This time though the rachas passed over head and hit the water ahead of us.

After a good nights rest in Estero Odger, we finally got a decent weather window and headed south down through the very tricky channel of Paso Quesahuén, where currents reach 7 knots in the 300 metre wide channel into Golfo Elefantes. Golfo San Rafael was only 8 miles ahead and we now started to see icebergs floating along in the distance. We transited the  narrow circuitous pass of Paso de Vidis which is the entrance to the channel leading to Laguna San Rafael. We figured we had enough time to enter the laguna and up to the glacier. Though the channel was remarkably free of ice, as we nosed into the laguna we were confronted by 6 miles of icy bits to get to the glacier. We worked our way through the ice but the rasping sound of even the small bergy bits on the hull was unnerving. The glacier was an amazing sight. We were lucky enough to get sporadic sunshine, but the cold air of the glacier mixed with relatively warm air above the water to form a very light mist. We spent more time than we should have getting to the glacier face and we had to retreat, as the narrow channel leading into the laguna can become choked with ice as the tide changes and the current carries all the floating ice with it. We made it out just in time, narrowly escaping through the bergs and bergy-bits as they closed around us. Phew!

We had reached the southernmost point for our current season at 46° 33' S, the same latitude south as our home in Vancouver Washington was north of the equator, a fitting place to turn back. Our anchorage for the night would be in a very narrow river, Rio de los Patos (ducks) just a mile along the channel from the laguna. As the current was running at 2 knots now it was quite a thrill heading full speed across the current dodging ice and trying to hit the narrow 50' wide river entrance. En route, Mike hopped in the dinghy to harvest some glacier ice for our drinks - a different kind of "ice fishing". It was almost the perfect end to a perfect day, except Mike spent the next hour in the dinghy fixing the head. Previously we have expounded the virtues of our Lavac head from England. With no moving parts it relies on a big Henderson Mk5 bilge pump to create a vacuum in the sealed unit and pull fresh seawater in. We installed it 8 years ago and it had never let us down, but now it was blocked solid. Mike rebuilt the pump, cleaned a diverter valve in the inlet and all was like new. It was now dark and time to celebrate with a glass of  single malt scotch and a lump of 10,000 year old ice. Even Cath had ice in her scotch that night. More on Laguna San Rafael in Log 29.

 Mikey's Beer Index: Here in southern Chile the beer of choice seems to be Crystal, no prizes for guessing the style. The next favourite, Austral, is brewed here in the south. It's very much the same style, just a little hoppier. All are available in latas (cans) for about $0.60 each and also available on draught schopp for about $1.50 per 1/2 litre. They even have import beers from Germany for about the same price as local beer. Can't figure that one out!!

Wine Review:  Most of our wine research recently has been trying to find a decent boxed wine. Anyone from anywhere except North America understands that buying and drinking boxed wines doesn't have to be an excuse for a headache. The "tetra brick" 1 litre packs are easily storable and can be resealed. Chile has dozens of different varieties and prices. As it turns out we like the Santa Rita 120 Cabernet Sauvignon and Sauvignon Blanc, so it has become our "cheap" boat wine. Of course we still keep bottles of our favourites, but stocking up for months can get too heavy, so we're forced to pace ourselves.