Cruising the Chilean Fjords

This will have to be a rushed post. It´s already late and I haven´t had dinner yet. And this is the stickiest keyboard I´ve had to use all trip so there will be more typos than usual.

Watching the Evangelista dock in Puerto Natales was better than many a cabaret act. I don´t know if the first approach was meant to be a dummy run, but the captain turned round and came back for a second go. This one was successful. Unfortunately I don´t have a diagram to explain how he used a whopping great mooring buoy in the middle of the channel to stop the stern thumping the jetty. Although the wind had dropped, as predicted, at 7pm it was still a fresh breeze and the wharf was a lee shore.

The passengers were boarded at 11pm, only 2 hours later than scheduled. We found our berths and were then invited to the dining room for a safety briefing, followed by a film. I was going to ignore the film but it was Motorcycle Diaries, the story of Che Guevara´s youthful travels. Cousin Mike Theilmann had mentioned these in a comment long ago so I felt I had to watch it. It was a good film, too. Most entertaining. So I got to bed at about 2pm to find that some peasant had taken my specially requested lower berth despite my pyjamas lying on the pillow. Since the top bunk was easy to get into I chose not to wake him up and have our shouts wake the whole ship so I turned in.

The PA system let us know when we were approaching the narrowest point of the journey - at six o´clock the next morning. The captain had left a lee shore in a strong wind, one of the most difficult tasks of seamanship, and I wasn´t there to watch how he did it. It would have been in the dark anyway.

The narrows were the channel between some islands. At 80 metres it wasn´t exactly breathe-in-and-hold-your-breath to take the vessel through, but we could see the rocks quite clearly through the drizzle so I took pictures to try and demonstrate how close we were. Not very. Much more importantly, I saw my first two families of steamer ducks. BIG TICK. These are ducks that, when alarmed, run across the water using their wings like paddles for extra speed. The ship alarmed them so I witnessed this distinctive behaviour.

I returned to my bunk but 10 minutes later we were informed of another narrowest point. Actully I think this was the real one, but since I didn´t see steamer ducks here I forgive the first rousing me out of bed. I did take more photos.

The rest of Day One was spent chugging through placid waters between beautiful mounds of rock. Some were topped with snow; most had trees at the lower levels and low-growing vegetation higher up. Bare rock was common, as were waterfalls. Although these were glaciated valleys, none had the sheer sides of Milford Sound. I never saw a hillside with a mat of vegetation supporting itself the way NZ plant life has colonised the steepest cliffs in our Fiordland. There was a lot of cloud that obscured some mountain tops and periodically threw a shower in our direction. The strength of the wind varied with the peaks, valleys and side channels but it was always there are always cold.

Wildlife was scarce at first but eventually some interesting seabirds turned up. They were black-browed albatross. Tick. Consulting the field guide and making sure of the particular species passed a pleasant half-hour and was warmer than standing on deck and watching their near effortless mastery of the air in the distance. From time to time a chocolate-coloured giant petrel wheeled around or crossed our wake.

Late in the day the captain ducked the ship down a side channel, round a few corners and lo! there was Glaciar El Brujo (The Wizard Glacier). I didn´t like to say the Upsala Glacier on Lago Argentina was more impressive. And the Wizard only calved off little pieces. There were no icebergs. But I took photos anyway.

Life on board mostly revolved around meal times. The food itelf was nourishing and adequately substantial without being exciting. All meals were queued for, clutching a blue tray. Since the ship was nowher near full the queues were always short. There was no choice, but I had been asked when I checked in if I was a vegetarian so presumably that would have been catered for. In between times there were easy chair and games tables in the bar where chess, playing cards and a very few books were available.

In the mornings there were information talks in both Spanish and English. In the afternoons there were films, usually in Spanish with English subtitles and usually not to my taste.

Day Two also started at silly o´clock. The ferry had anchored in the bay of the only settlement in the fjords, Puerto Eden. This fishing hamlet has a population of 180, of whom 9 are Kaweshka, the people who virtually lived in their canoes on these waterways before Europeans arrived. There are no roads.

Although the voyage literature advertised a short time ashore in Pto Eden this was not offered. Maybe the captain was trying to make up lost time. But I saw more steamer ducks. :-)

Features of this day were the Angostura Inglesa (English Narrows) and the statue of the Stella Maris Virgen, who is credited with protecting sailors and was acknowledged with four long blasts on the ship´s hooter. And all this in sunshine. No heat. I wouldn´t want to give the impression that this was in any way tropical. When the weather report was read out in the morning we were basking in only 7 degrees Celcius.

The Golfo de Peña, where we would leave the shelter of the fjords, was given a big build up. "We will start our crossing between 1 and 2 pm. We will announce when it is time to take seasick pills." The announcement was duly made. Those who did not have their own medication could purchase relief at the bar. I was watching this performance with a Welshman, Owen, who is a fellow boatie. We relied on our long experience of heaving waters. In the event the Gulf was sunny and calm with just enough swell to know you were at sea.

In the open there were far fewer albatrosses, but the giant petrels started to follow the ship. I saw 5 in the air behind us at one stage. And my devotion to scanning the air was well rewarded that afternoon with two wandering albatross. TICK. I was in the bar when the whale was spotted, but the tannoy burst into life with the news and most of the passengers rushed on deck. It was much smaller than the right whales in Argentina, with a small dorsal fin located well back.

Day Three. The weather closed right in. There was a head wind of 30 knots and cloud to zero feet. It had thawed to 10 degrees. Although the wind abated and the cloud lifted a little there was virtually nothing to see outside so I played a lot of patience and did sudoku puzzles.

After dinner we had a change in the entertainment formula. A member of the crew played an electric organ - or possibly it played itself, it was so fancy - and sang really rather nicely. Then we had bingo. Only one game. It was very well done, with erronous calls of "Bingo" and other interruptions being penalised by the offender having to dance for us. There were prizes for the first to complete three lines and the first to complete their card. And the winners had to dance or sing before they could receive the prize. Totally zilly.

Then a CD of music to dance to was heaved into the stereo and it was party time.

The ship docked in Puerto Montt during the night, but we were given an early breakfast before being disembarked to continue our travels.

In my case that is Chiloe Island, where it is now going on starvation o´clock.