Log 31 - January 15th - March 8th 2006

Chile: Puerto Montt to Puerto Williams & Ushuaia, Tierra del Fuego
 Distance travelled to date from Portland: 15,108 nm; 1172 nm this leg.

We always underestimate the time it takes to get BREILA back in the water. This re-commissioning, re-provisioning and re-fueling were especially lengthy as we were going to be on our own for 7 to 8 weeks, sailing south through some of the most remote and challenging areas there are. We lugged nine bags on the flights, bus and taxis needed over the 2-1/2 days it took to get back to BREILA from the USA. We were carrying lots of new boat equipment - including a Raymarine radar/chartplotter w/radar dome, and an extra heating system for the boat - but the customs people were only interested to know if we were bringing gifts into the country. The additional baggage cost was $120 (after some careful re-packing at the check-in counter.) We considered ourselves lucky, as it was far less than shipping this stuff, but we now had over 140 kg of luggage to maneuver.

During our 12-hour stopover in Santiago, we took the opportunity to explore some parts of the city we hadn't yet seen, and to re-visit some favourites. The efficient subway system makes getting around a snap. Though Santiago is a modern, world-class city, there are enclaves that have all the character of the old world of the city's founders. We chose a small area, Barrio Paris-Londres, an amazing area of 6 or 7 blocks square, just off the main drag. There is none of the hustle and bustle of the downtown core, the streets are narrow and quiet. We spent a few hours relaxing on a park bench watching the world go by and writing Christmas cards. We also got to see some really dramatic artwork and even a great video about the indigenas of Tierra del Fuego - in a subway station!  By noon the next day we were safely back onboard BREILA, very pleased to find she was in great condition, and NO mildew.

Mike attacked the re-commissioning with his usual energetic enthusiasm. But it was like crawling through molasses. The drizzly, windy weather didn't help, and jobs that should take a few hours consumed full days. Originally we thought we would spend Christmas afloat somewhere in the islands to the south. Then we found ourselves making Christmas dinner plans with other cruisers. We rationalized we would get going between Christmas and New Year. When our friend from Santiago arrived to work on his new Marina/Lodge, he insisted that we join him and his wife for a New Years dinner at his home. Okay, we'd leave the day after New Year. But we wanted to make a quick visit to friends north of Puerto Montt. Wolfgang and Gaby Kirsten run the daily SSB radio net, so we'd spoken to them every day for a year and never met them. They invited us to see their farm in Villarica; we just couldn't pass that up. Squeezed in to the same trip was a visit to meet Ian and Maggy Staples, who "wrote the book" on cruising in Patagonia. They now have a gorgeous farm in the same area, where they are very busy with a new honey processing operation. We spent a glorious few days there, even getting to ride across the river valley on their lovely Chilean horses. And we had a great New Years' celebration with Christian and Laura, our wonderful Chilean friends, at their summer home on Isla Tenglo. Eventually we left the dock on January 15th. We've learned it is very difficult to get untangled from the overflowing generosity of Chilean friends!

The Port Captain in Puerto Montt is notorious for rigorous rules for yachts to get their zarpe (departure permit.) The situation was exacerbated by a tragedy that happened during the holidays. French friends of ours on a small aluminum boat, NOUVELLE BRISE, were headed south. They were waiting for good weather in a remote anchorage and had an explosion on board, caused by their propane stove. Since it was Christmas, there were no fishermen in the area. Our friends made it to shore, salvaged what they could from the boat, and then ended up camping on the shore in their life raft for 20 days. Eventually, when they hadn't been heard from for a while, the cruisers insisted that the armada start a search. Our friends were found alive, with some nasty burns, but their boat was not salvageable. A sad end to over 30 years of cruising.

Finally we got our zarpe and away from the dock, and though the forecast wasn't perfect, we had a good sail nearly all the way to one of our favorite anchorages, Isla Añihué. We dodged squalls all afternoon, but never quite managed to miss them, it was just a wet and windy day. Just as we got to the narrow channel between the Island of Chiloé and Mechuque, the wind started to build; within 10 minutes it went from15 knots to 40+ with a complete white-out of rain and spray. We were being pushed towards our destination at 6 kts under bare poles. A rude start after not being on the water for eight months! Luckily it blew itself out in 30 minutes and we sailed into our anchorage. But the bad weather didn't abate and we holed up for 2 nights there. We pushed on to the south end of Isla Grande de Chiloé. We re-visited Quellón, the fishing port, for fresh veggies, propane and farm cheese. Security measures for small boats had been stepped up, and we had to negotiate to get our zarpe processed quickly and get sailing on.

Crossing into Patagonia proper requires a passage of 30 to 40 miles, depending on the route taken. We left in fair weather, choosing the longer route as it would get us farther south. But the weather didn't last and before we completed the 40 mile passage we had 40 knots from the aft, with huge waves. Adding to the fun was the complete lack of visibility as we tried to enter Canal Morelada. After a few hours of this we had had enough. There were no good anchorages close by but one of the books recommended a spot with the proviso, "not good, but preferable to being out in a storm". After being anchored for a few hours, the wind shifted, and we were now on a dangerous lee shore. We pulled in one shore line and had to cut the other, in driving rain. As we motored away from the anchorage, a fisherman approached to guide us to a safer spot. He took Mike in his boat to a spot which would be very safe in the strong SW winds. Unfortunately the refugio was too shallow for BREILA. We found another spot, anchored and tied in to the shore again. He invited to us to visit his family in the next bay. We took a few regalos (gifts) for his wife and son. They were just establishing their farm on the island and their house was in ongoing construction. It was very rustic; we sat around the wood stove and again shared mate as we talked about each others plans. We marvelled at their simple and happy existence. Mike spent most of the night on anchor watch in the cockpit waiting for the forecasted SW winds (which never materialized) to storm in.

The next 100 miles south through the canals was glorious, warm and sunny but that meant no wind and we motored all the way to our next challenge, the Golfo de Penas. Aptly named by the Spanish discovers, the "gulf of sorrows" is one of the nastiest crossings sailors must make to get either north or south in Patagonia. In total the passage is about 150 miles, the first half heading south around a rocky peninsula which juts into the open ocean, has the benefit of some sheltered anchorages. The last 50 miles is across the actual gulf, a shallow bay that is wide open to the prevailing SW winds, creating huge swells which do not diminish even days after the winds drop. We made it down to the last safe anchorage about 15 miles from the  entrance to the gulf, just in time. That afternoon, the fish boats arrived. We spent the next 6 days waiting for the winds to change in the complete shelter of Caleta Suarez. Again we had the joy of swapping tales with the fishermen. They told us all about their work and gave us fish whenever they thought we had run out. They must have thought we had a huge crew hidden below! We spent the time on boat chores, walking ashore, doing laundry in the fresh water streams.

The weather did not seem to be getting any better, when one evening we looked at a weather fax we had just received and thought we spotted a short window. We decided to leave right away and do the passage overnight. One advantage of an overnight passage is the darkness hides the height of the waves. In daylight, they often look worse than they are, and BREILA can ride them well. As it turned out we ended up motoring almost all 98 miles as the light winds from the NW were not enough to keep us moving in the SW swell. At mid-day, we called the San Pedro lighthouse at the entrance to the canales to advise that we were exiting the gulf. We slept well that night in one of the snuggest anchorages we have seen yet.

Canal Messier is over 100 miles long, almost entirely north/south, and notorious for bad weather. Of course, the wind blows. We were lucky, though, and had light winds for the next two days, arriving late in the afternoon in Puerto Edén, almost halfway to Tierra del Fuego. It's also the only place on our 900-mile route to re-provision and re-fuel. And they charge accordingly - diesel at a 50% surcharge!  Fresh food arrives weekly on a ferry. If you don't get there within a day of the ferry, forget fresh food. We arrived a day after the ferry and managed to find a decent selection of vegetables, at surprisingly reasonable prices. We spent a night tied up against the Carabineras'  (federal police) 45' boat. We were befriended by Renè, one of the 6 Carabineras in the little town of 150 people. He helped us with our fuel and made sure we were not overcharged. Both he and the charming Port Captain made us feel very welcome and both expressed sadness that we would leave the next morning. They don't see too many new faces in this area.

The next 275 miles of canals took 10 days with 9 different anchorages. Although the winds were predominately behind us, the combination of time spent getting secured and unsecured from anchorage, contrary currents and often ugly waves caused by the wind over current, meant our travel distances to be short each day. We did however get to see (almost) our first of the southern glaciers. Ventisquero Amalia is about 15 miles off our track. It has an unusual feature of a rock that splits the glacier in two as it hits the ocean. We managed to arrive in the outer bay in good time and sailed the 7 miles up to the face. As we got close we even got an occasional view of the glacier between chubascos - rain squalls that reduce visibility to about 500 M and sometimes pack violent winds. They seemed to come out of nowhere! We ended up having to retreat before we reached the glacier face as we now had 25-30 knot winds pushing us along. We motored-sailed out of the bay dodging ice as we left. Our anchorage for the night was not too far away and once again we tied ourselves in and relaxed after the harrowing exit from Amalia. This glacier is famous because it is the location that adventurer Bill Tillman sailed to in 1956 with a crew of mountaineers. He anchored his boat in a small cove and the crew set off to cross the Patagonia Icecap into Argentina and back. A great adventurer, and his exploits make fascinating reading.

The entrance into the Straits of Magellan is not easy. We were to enter from Canal Smythe just 15 miles from the open Pacific Ocean and the prevailing NW winds. The waves created at our entrance range from 1 to 4.5 M, depending on the current and wind strength. We waited for the winds and waves to moderate for 5 days in tiny Caleta Teokita, charted by our friends Ian and Maggy Staples when they went through here 10 years ago. It's another small crack in the rocks about 200 M x 30M, accessed through a convoluted narrow channel. You have to believe there's a caleta in there as you can't see in around the curves. Again we had fishermen also hiding from the weather, although if the wind dropped below 25 knots they would go out for the day to dive for sea urchin and seaweed, both for shipping to Japan. We traded sugar for centolla, and enjoyed sharing mate with them in their tiny cabin aboard their vessel. We finally decided there would never be a perfect time to cross into the straits, so we made a run for it when the wind dropped to 15 and the waves were 2M. It was an uncomfortable and anxious 6 hours.

We next anchored in famous Puerto Angosto, tied in tightly. This was where Joshua Slocum, the first cruising circumnavigator, was holed up for a month, 100 years ago. At that time, there were still fierce indigenas about, and Slocum reports receiving a "Fuegan salute" - a shower of arrows on his boat. So he spread thumb tacks on his decks at night, in case anyone tried to come aboard, as the indigenas went barefoot. Just ten minutes after deciding to add a third shore line "just in case", we got our first racha hit of the night. Not a big one, maybe 25 kts, but enough to send us skittering across the small bay where we'd anchored. Though it was a bit squally when we left the next morning, we managed to get all our lines in and the anchor up without going aground. As we rounded the point and headed to the straits we knew we had made a mistake leaving. The straits were covered in whitecaps, with big rollers running across the entrance to our bay We turned to go back and got hit with 35+knot rachas and waterspouts. Our only protection was a very challenging tie-in to a cliff face. We dropped the hook in 25 M of water and backed up to within arms-reach of the cliff. After our shore lines were secured, we watched 30 knot waves with white caps blow by just a few meters from BREILA's hull. But we were totally out of the wind and we stayed in the same spot for 2 days waiting for the winds to diminish. We realized we were now really in the screamin' 50's. We sailed out of the Straits of Magellan in another 2 days, one a very brisk sail downwind, the other a great sail with diminished waves and an easy passage with perfect timing through the narrows at Paso Tortuoso - guess what that means? And we visited another historical anchorage - Puerto Gallant, which served as anchorage for Magellan, Drake, Slocum - all the greats - and now BREILA and another Canadian boat, T'TAURI WIND.

The next hurdle was getting into Canal Brecknock, another passage open to the wind and waves of the Pacific. Someone must have thought we'd had enough rough stuff for a few days and we had following winds and 1 M waves as we sailed the 20 miles into Brecknock. We both sighed with relief as we headed east into the protection of the canal. This part of the south is constantly battered by wind and waves. Prior to that the glaciers had their way and stripped nearly all of the soil and polished the grey granite. We tucked up for a few nights in Caleta Brecknock and took time to hike around in the hills. Leaving the Caleta a few days later we sailed past 2 French yachts, AGUR and MUSTIQUE, heading for the canals to the north. We shouted back and forth and wished them bon navigacion. We later heard that they had changed their minds about trying to beat up the channels to the north and opted instead to head back into the Atlantic via the Straits of Magellan's eastern entrance. A day or so north of the entrance they were caught in a very nasty storm with 70 knot winds. Both yachts were rolled and dismasted; one made it to safe harbor 7 days later. The smaller yacht, a mini-transat racer, was found 10 days later, decks awash and no sign of the singlehander. The whole cruising community was shocked, as were we, to learn of the loss. Many of us had met Antoine, on his 21-foot boat MUSTIQUE, and were inspired by his enthusiasm.

We were a little behind our schedule now, as we had a friend from Canada, Jay Smith of INDRA II, arriving to meet us in Ushuaia March 2nd. We'd buddy-boated with Jay south from Mexico through Central America (see photos and text of previous logs), so we were very pleased when he agreed to join us for a few months sailing in the far south. From Canal Brecknock to Puerto Williams the route is roughly west to east. With the prevailing W/NW winds we had good sailing down the avenue of glaciers, a 60 mile stretch of Canal Beagle into which dozens of tidewater glaciers tumble. We sailed by in awe, knowing that we would return here with Jay later on. One of the favorite anchorages in the area is Caleta Olla, at the junction of 3 canals with Isla Diablo just off shore. It's an area of high winds and strong currents. The sea boils at tide changes. But Caleta Olla is remarkably sheltered; anchored with 2 stern lines to the shore, the 35-40 kt winds whistled through and over the trees while we sat in a mill pond. However, when we'd hike to the view point and look at the conditions in the Canal, we'd see big breaking waves, and elect to stay put. We finally plucked up our courage and had a long day with good downwind sailing and finally arrived in Puerto Williams about half an hour before dark. We tied to the venerable Club de Yates MICALVI and breathed a sigh of relief, finally having arrived.

The Club de Yates MICALVI is run by the armada de Chile, as is most of the town of Puerto Williams. A small non-military population of fishermen and related industries has grown around the base. The yacht club itself is actually an old supply ship, the MICALVI, that was intentionally run aground in the channel to create a mooring for servicemen's boats and visiting yachtsmen. It has a bar, once famous for its food and drink (lately it has slipped somewhat) that does not even open until 10 at night. We had to make a concerted effort to stay awake long enough for a visit. There are no docks to tie to, so everyone must raft alongside the furthest boat out. Sometimes there as many as 20 boats rafted 5-6 deep. That makes for a lot of foot traffic over the deck. But it all seems to work out and even the inside boats are able to squeeze out when they're ready to cast off. We were only the third boat out, and nobody tied to the outside of us, as it was nearing the end of the season and most of the other cruisers had headed north.

To get to Ushuaia we had to backtrack 27 miles west up the Beagle Channel, with no sheltered anchorage in between. Not too far, but the headwinds kick up dramatically in the afternoons, making the passage long and uncomfortable.  We got our zarpe at 9 p.m. and left at 6 next a.m. It was a motor all the way but we were grateful the winds did not exceed 12 knots. Of course later in the day the wind was up to its normal 25+. As we rafted 2 out from the Yacht Club AFySYN dock, Jay was there to catch our lines, along with friends Marcie and David of NINE OF CUPS. What a difference 27 miles makes!  In Puerto Williams the days were quite moderate, whereas in Ushuaia the wind seemed to blow constantly and the 2 km walk into town across a long causeway was cold and windy each time. In town we were surprised at the amount of tourism and general prosperity of it all. It was the biggest population centre we'd seen for 2 months and a little shocking at first. But it didn't take long to get used to the hustle and bustle again. After a drawn-out visit to check in to Argentina at the prefectura naval and the aduana we moved Jay aboard BREILA.

Anyone who travels any distance to visit cruising friends knows they act as couriers for much needed spare parts. Jay was no exception. He opened his bags and pulled out all the goodies we were waiting for. Of particular importance was a rebuild kit for the oil pump of BREILA's ageing Mitsubishi diesel engine. While tied to the dock at Ushuaia, Mike replaced the oil pump and gave the engine a quick service for the upcoming trips to Cape Horn and the glaciers.

And that was our Chilean adventures for the beginning of 2006. Now we were headed for a huge milestone for BREILA - our rounding of Cape Horn. We'll cover that, and our trip through the beautiful glaciers of the Beagle Channel, in the next log.

Mikey's Beer Index: We sampled 2 new artesanal beers brewed locally in east Santiago, both quite high in alcohol and very hoppy. The crystal was a nice amber ale, obviously named for the malt. The "bock" was a great example of this darker lighter-style beer.  

Wine Review:  Our major concern this time around was to ensure we had enough wine on board for the 2 months trip south. With only one place available that may have any wine, we wanted to make our choices where there was some selection. We fell back to the our favourites from last year, Concha y Toro's Santa Digna Sauvignon Blanc, Concha y Toro's Carmenere and for box wine we chose the Santa Rita 120 Cabernet Sauvignon. Not much more to say about these wines except at an average of $3 for the bottles and $2 for the box wines, they are great value.