Log 29 - March 9th - May 2nd 2005

Chile: Laguna San Rafael returning to Puerto Montt
 Distance travelled to date from Portland: 13,836 nm; 540 nm this leg.
 

Originally we planned to write the Puerto Montt and back trip in one leg, but we could have written for pages and pages, boring you to death with one really long log. So here we are with our return trip. We didn't have enough space in the last log to adequately describe Laguna San Rafael. It is part of a 1.7 million ha national park. The glacier rises about 60m above the sea, but it is rapidly receding. Some experts predict it will be back on dry land by 2011. It is backed by Monte San Valentin, southern Patagonia's tallest peak at 4058 m. However on the day we were there the cloud cover was almost down to the top of the glacier. The cold air of the glacier mixes with the relatively warm air of the sea (13°C) and creates a very misty appearance. The sun broke through the clouds once in a while, but it was essentially overcast for our visit. We were lucky that the winds were with us and we could get into the lagoon. Often if the south wind is blowing the narrow channel leading into the lagoon is plugged solid with ice for its 4 mile length. As it was we dodged ice for 2 hours to make our way to the face. To give some idea of scale, there is a 350' red Skorpio cruise boat at the far right of the ice flow in this photo. We could only get to within 1/2 mile of the glacier as the sea was choked full of chunk ice. But we were nevertheless amazed at the grandeur of the glacier.

We'd spent so much time getting to the glacier that day that we almost got ourselves stuck in the ice in the lagoon. Though there are many places to anchor inside the lagoon, the trouble is the wind often shifts direction, blowing the icebergs around, and we could become totally locked in the ice. So we picked our way out of the entrance carefully, stopping on the way to the nearby anchorage to harvest some ice for cocktails. It is a cruiser tradition to have "thousand year old ice" in a whisky. We were amazed as how long this "old" ice lasted - we still had some on board when we arrived back in Puerto Montt. As we left the lagoon we encountered a small boat with 4 men standing fishing. It was so misty we almost missed them. They had paid big bucks to stand in the 10°C weather soaked by rain - no thank you. The closest lodge was about 10 miles away, at least an hour in their small boat.

We left our safe anchorage in the tiny river the next morning, pleased with ourselves for taking the time the previous day to visit the glacier. This day was totally overcast and pouring rain, our chances of seeing the glacier would have been slim. As we worked our way out of the long channel we saw a large ship in the distance. We thought it was an Armada vessel as two small craft came ahead of it checking the depth in the convoluted channel. It turned out to be a huge ocean-going tug converted to a personal yacht, an incredible transformation. As we sailed by we were hailed from their bridge by one of the mates, a Canadian. We chatted for a while and he told us they had just come north from Antarctica. What a great way to see the world! It must have cost a fortune to run that yacht.

We've mentioned before that in Chile, fishing has not been good for us. Most of the fish are bottom fish at depths of 100+ meters, so the easiest way for us to "fish" is with cartons of cheap wine and t-shirts. During a slow slog up one of the canales we came across two fishermen pulling their lines, and so for the aforementioned wine and t-shirt we "landed" two nice fish. We had to tell the fishermen that two fish were enough as they wanted to give us more. The same fish in the markets fetch $10. We "caught" one congrio and a nice merluza. The congrio is an odd fish with the head of a fish and the body of a large eel. Both fish are great eating in any style you care to prepare them.

Returning to Chacabuco to drop off Leslie was nearly all under motor as the winds were either on the nose or non-existent. And the headwinds were pretty strong at times. More than once, we'd had to stay several days in the same anchorage to await lighter winds. Our second trip down Seno Aysén was as lively as the first. The NW winds funnel down the very narrow channel, winds at the entrance were variable to 10 knots. Halfway down we were down to no mainsail and just half our 100% jib out and still running at 6-8 knots. This lasted for about 1-1/2 hours and as we reached the end of the Seno where the channel widens out and we had to motor into Chacabuco. We dropped off a slightly soggy Leslie the next morning for her return flight. She was a great guest - it's wonderful having a professional caterer/restaurateur aboard. A real trouper, too, considering it rained solid for her entire visit. It was unimaginable that we'd gotten sunburns while sitting the cockpit just two weeks before.

Our plan was to leave Chacabuco after a major provisioning. We'd be travelling in very remote areas with no provisioning for the next four weeks, so we stocked up with lots of fresh food and had the butcher prepare many small packets of meat for us that we could freeze easily. We'd planned a very early morning departure as the tide was right to get out of the bay then. The entrance is VERY shallow - even at high tide we only had a few centimeters of water under the keel at times. We woke during the night to very strong winds that got stronger by daybreak. By the time we should have left there were constant 45kn winds with gusts to 50+. We had a good anchor set and we were only about 100 meters downwind of the shoreline. Even so we veered all over the place as the rachas came tumbling over the hill at us. The outlook was not good; the Armada forecasted these winds for the next 3 days. In the end it was 10 days before could leave Chacabuco. Yet, when we finally left Seno Aysén the winds were so light that we had to motor the entire 20 miles.

On our trip south, we'd explored anchorages on the mainland side. For our return north we wanted to travel west for about 30 miles to explore the Chonos Archipelago, an island group stretching about 150 miles north to the Golfo de Corcovado. It is an area of channels that run north/south and every 20 miles is a channel that runs west to the ocean. Like most of the islands we had come across since leaving the Golfo de Corcovado, they're uninhabited. We'd wondered why there were no people living there. When we decided to get off the boat for a hike we realized why no one lives here: you can't get inland. The scrubby vegetation is so dense that we couldn't walk in the woods, nor could we cut through it with a machete. We were stuck at the shoreline. With the vast precipitation - the ocean side islands get 8 METERS (25 feet) of annual rainfall - the ground is either very boggy, or solid rock.

One afternoon we took our dinghy into a lagoon above our anchorage. We'd read that there was a fisherman/farmer who lived in the lagoon and wanted to meet him. We found his house and what was obviously at one time a successful small farm. The only one there was a dog, left alone to guard the place. We walked around for a while and then got back in the dinghy and rowed out of the lagoon as the tide was ebbing. As we drifted along, we were surrounded by wildlife. Rare Chilean black dolphins appeared as they chased fish into the drying lagoon. Red winged loons swooped over us, a seal appeared and swam away. As we drifted we spotted one of our favorite birds, the Chilean Kingfisher (Martin Pescador) sitting on a branch as we drifted down on him. We finally got within 2 feet of him before he flew off, not scared at all. A little further on we were headed for a rock outcrop, we heard a snort that sounded like cormorants grunting, then the source appeared. The farmer had released his two small pigs to fend for themselves. They snorted and grunted as they rooted for the wild bulbs to eat. They were really friendly, as Cath scratched their heads they tried to climb into the dinghy. They weren't big but those hooves were sharp enough to puncture our inflatable. We pushed ourselves away and as we went through the narrows from the lagoon, the dolphins were everywhere. We couldn't get any photos as the water was ink black and we couldn't see them coming, they just appeared all around us. Then the seal re-appeared 1/2 meter behind the dinghy. He surfaced, looked at us and did a black flip. He did this many times as we rowed slowly ahead and climbed back aboard BREILA. Later that afternoon the fisherman/farmer returned to his bay. He immediately came over to our boat and invited us to lunch the next day at his house. He was going to visit on another island for the evening. The next day the weather was bad again but we were very sheltered in our anchorage. Cath made a dessert and we headed to the fisherman's house. As we suspected, he hadn't gotten back in the rough weather.

As soon as the front passed we headed north a little more, the bay we were in now was supposed to be a great place for crabbing, so we put the crab pot over the side and awaited our supper. After an hour we couldn't resist pulling the pot to see what was happening. It was packed with crab, however many were too small by our reckoning. We applied rules from home, females and males less than a certain size across the carapace got to live. Still we had a great feed that night of Cath's world famous Crab Mornay. From that anchorage on we set the crab pot whenever conditions looked good, and were often rewarded with a great crab catch.

We'd heard about a new marina on one of the small islands across in Chonos. Now we were just around the corner from it. After an uncomfortable night in a poor anchorage at the south end of the Skorpios Channel (a very long and narrow channel that required passage at just the right time for tides and currents), we made it to the new marina on Isla Jéchica. It's not really a marina, more a luxury resort for a few select yachtsmen. But they did have about 30 meters of dock space. The resort was closed (the season is only two months: January and February), but we were greeted by the caretakers, Elvis and Gaston. They'd called the owner on their satellite phone and he'd told them to give us a tour, and full use of the facilities. They were a delightful odd couple who worked daily from 8 'till 6 painting the new cabins. Each day they would light the wood fires in the marineros' (crews) quarters so that we could have hot showers. After a few days, the cruising yacht TEVAKENUI from New Zealand joined us in the bay - the first cruisers we'd seen in three months. Marc, Jane and their 12 year old daughter Marissa had crossed the south Pacific at the end of the year and were heading south towards Cape Horn. We spent 3 enjoyable days with them. On our final night, we all met at the lodge, and Cath used the big commercial kitchen for a special dinner for everyone. Gaston and Elvis laid on cocktails, and set up the big dining room like we were paying guests - a great evening of international  camaraderie. That evening Gaston told us about a walk up into the hills to a landlocked lake, so the crew of TEVAKENUI and BREILA decided we'd get out the next day. Though it was pouring rain, we went anyway. After a one mile row to the top of the bay we headed up the well marked trail. This was the only time we'd be able to hike into an island's interior. The plants growing on the trail were totally alien to us, tiny flowers and mosses we had never seen before. We ended up at a small lake black as ink from the peat bogs either side of the trail. The walk was all too short, but we enjoyed it regardless. On the way back along the shore we came across the carcasses of about 20 huge squid. They had become stranded in the bay during a recent high tide. We found the beak of one of them and it was as big as a small fist, so that squid must have been very large indeed.

We bade farewell to our new friends at Marina Jéchica and headed for our last stop in the Chonos Archipelago, Melinka. It was now the middle of April, the equivalent of mid-September in the northern hemisphere, but the weather was a lot different. By now there were many cold fronts passing at 48 hour intervals. These brought rain and very strong west/north west winds. This was okay for the anchorages we were using which all had good protection from that quadrant, but we were trying to head north and the wind funnels either north or south in the channels, so passage-making was hard. Coming out of one anchorage, we "discovered" a reef with our keel. Poor BREILA sat stuck fast for half an hour with the reef grinding away at her keel. We finally kedged her off and continued on our way. Another project for the next haul out! The weather charts showed a 3-day break in the pattern so we pushed ahead moving each day, staying only to sleep in some fantastic anchorages. We had a very fast passage across the south end of the Golfo de Corcovado. We sailed the entire 53 miles in 9 hours in very brisk SSW winds. Half way across the gap we had our first sighting of the huge Southern Wright Whales. They kept their distance from us, but there was no mistaking their size. As we pulled into Quellón, the biggest town on the south end of Isla Grande de Chiloé, we started our engine and motored around looking for a safe spot to anchor for the night. It's quite a big bay but very shallow at its end. We found a spot and tried to stop, but when we shifted gears we just kept on going forward. Our shift cable had broken; luckily we weren't trying to maneuver into a narrow marina berth. Mike pulled off the engine cover, shifted gears manually and anchored for the night.

Quellón is the last port on the south of the island where fish boats can service; get fuel, water and some repairs. There is regular bus traffic to Puerto Montt, a full day away, so parts are available. We went ashore early to try and find a new shift cable. Ours is 1.5 mts long, the shortest one in Quellón was 10 mts and a phone call to Puerto Montt told us the shortest there was 5 mts. After looking at it for a while one of the owners of the little store said he thought he could fix it. Knowing how they're made, this seems an impossible task, however with just a hand drill and a file he did in fact extend the cable and make it work. Explaining how he did it would take a few pages, suffice it to say Mike was very impressed. Cost? Nothing! He wouldn't accept a payment so we gave him money for his children, which he accepted. We ended up spending 3 days in port as more fronts passed through. And we had a mishap with our laptop at the internet cafe in Quellón. As we plugged in to their network we instantly got a worm virus which rendered all our files irretrievable. It's taken a year to be able to update our website, as we had to replace our laptop. We now have a "firewall" that allows us to detect a network without having to disable it. Twice already we have had a notice that we are being attacked and repulsed by the firewall. Hopefully it will work, it's the only disadvantage having a website host that is not like Yahoo. We must carry our laptop to the terminal, not just a disc.

The east side,  Isla Grande de Chiloé is indented with narrow channels and off lying islands. We had stayed in many on the way south, so tried not to duplicate any anchorage. It was easy to do. Chiloé is famous for its more than 150 antique wooden churches, many of which are over 200 years old. Even the cathedral in Castro is totally wooden construction. The islanders are extremely independent; they've developed their own folklore and even their language is different. It is essentially Spanish with a bunch of indigenous words thrown in. They cut off words midway through making it very difficult to understand them. Even Chileans from the mainland have trouble. Their folklore is based on mystic characters, like Trauco, a gnarly, strong and mischievous gnome. He is blamed for any unexplained things, including fathering all unwed mothers' children! There are many other characters with reputations just as strange. These characters, the people and the fact that Chiloé is often shrouded in mist and rain makes it a very interesting place. One town we particularly wanted to see was Chonchi, a town of 12,000 people, nicknamed Ciudad de los Tres Pisos (city of three floors) as it's built on the side of a steep hill. In 1960 this and many other towns were almost destroyed by a big earthquake (8.6 on the Richter scale) and tsunami that hit shortly after. The tsunami killed 1000 people in Chile, then 61 in Hawaii 14 hours later, then 200 in Japan the next day. The museum in Chonchi has some of the best photographs of the damages. We were amazed at how much the topography of the island had been altered. At the top of the town is one of the nicest of the wooden churches we have seen. Since there are no metals on the island, construction is with wooden pegs.

Just 12 miles away is the capital of the island Castro. At the end of a long narrow inlet, it is unfortunately open to the SW winds, and we got caught in one of theses blows. All we could do was tuck in behind the Armada station and let out as much scope as we dared. We had to constantly adjust scope as there are 5 meter tides here and at low tide the shore was only a couple of meters off our transom. Castro is very busy and it was a culture shock to us having to wait at traffic lights to cross the road, after being in remote anchorages for months.

Two days after leaving Castro we met up with another cruising boat, Jurgen and Ingrid on JOSI, a German yacht coming north from Cape Horn. We had been listening to their progress on the radio, and were pleased to make their acquaintance. We travelled together up to Puerto Montt. Now at of April, it seemed that winter had arrived, constant cold fronts and rain. We had been using our kerosene heater daily for 8 weeks, since we left Chacabuco the first time. We checked the weather charts each day and took shelter at one of favorite anchorages, Isla Anihué. We tucked into a small bay with JOSI 50 meters outside of us. We sat there for 3 days while the wind blew 45-55 knots. Luckily we had no wave fetch, but again the low tides had us adjusting scope as the bottom appeared. When the winds dropped we made the run up to Puerto Montt. Of course, the wind disappeared and we had to motor all day. Our final stop was 15 miles from Puerto Montt at a lovely, quiet and very protected anchorage. We made it easily to Puerto Montt the next morning just 2-1/2 hrs on a flood tide.

The marina was expecting us. We'd predicted our return date within a couple of days and they were ready to haul us out. We arranged to have a cradle built from heavy timbers for $400, half the price it would have cost to rent stands from the Yacht Club. We rented an overpriced storage locker and stripped BREILA of all outside equipment and as much as we could fit in from the inside. Winters in Puerto Montt are very wet, and we'd heard horror stories from other yachts about returning to mold everywhere, having to completely replace everything. The first night on the hard in our new cradle was a test. Another front passed through with 50+knot winds. Our bow faced almost into the wind, even so we shook and rattled all night. The next day we had the carpenters add another set of braces and that helped a lot.

We were really pushing it to get to Santiago for our flights back to the USA in 2 days time. Packing up and preparing for storage always takes longer than we plan. On the last day, the yard manager felt it would be safer to move the bow of BREILA more into the wind. So when, at 3 pm, they were ready to move us, we were in the final throws of packing and just about in "panic mode". They spent the next 3 hours trying to get us leveled. The cradle legs had been custom made to our position, so as they rotated the boat and cradle together with the TravelLift, the unlevel ground meant that the legs were now either too long or short. It was agonizing; here we were trying to leave for 7 months and the boat was not settled. They finished in the dark and we unloaded our bags and computers for the ride into Puerto Montt and subsequent overnight bus to Santiago. We piled into a collectivo (same as a taxi but with a fixed price and route), got out at the bus station and stored our bags in the luggage room. We realized we were missing a laptop - it must be in the trunk of the collectivo! We thought we'd lost it, as these guys don't even have radios or dispatchers. We hailed another collectivo, and it turned out it was the same guy, and there was our laptop in his trunk. Amazing luck !!

In South America, lengthy bus trips are made overnight, and you book a cama aboard. These seats recline fully - and they provide blankets and pillows - very comfortable. Our 12-hour bus ride to Santiago passed uneventfully, as the tension of leaving drained away. Next morning we met Christian, a member of the yacht club in Puerto Montt who'd befriended us. He'd invited us to visit with his family at his home in Pirque, in the Andean foothills very close to the border with Argentina. A century ago, the valley was a very popular area for health sanatoriums for wealthy Santiagans escaping the heat of summer. We were impressed with the huge hotel-style buildings, tucked up into the side of the hills. Then Christian took us to the  famous Concha y Toro vineyard. It's tough to get a tour here; they book up several weeks in advance. But Christian talked us in and we managed to tag on the end of a tour and get down to the cellars of Casillero de Diablo. We bought a couple of bottles of their renowned Don Melchor Cabernet Sauvignon and left very pleased with our visit. After a wonderful evening with Christian and Laura's family we slept like logs in the silent mountain air.

And that was our Chilean adventures for the beginning of 2005. Our flight from Chile was the 8th of May. We'll let you know what we did for the next 7 months, on our "summer vacation", in the next episode.

Mikey's Beer Index: Nothing new to report, except I did manage to find bottled Guinness in Santiago, and of course it was its usual wonderful self!!   

Wine Review:  The Don Melchor Cabernet is not the absolute top label for Concha y Toro, but it is one that is available in the US and Canada so we wanted to bring some home for tasting with friends. The wine we bought was the 1995 vintage, cost in Chile $68/bottle. It sells for about 3 times that in the US and Canada. I can't honestly say it was worth $68, we don't drink enough wines in that price range to be able to judge. However it was with out a doubt the best Cabernet we have ever tasted. The second bottle tasted even better as we think it had more time to rest after the trip.