PUERTO MONTT TO SAN RAFAEL GLACIER

Puerto Montt, land of promises for repairs, improvements, paint, and provisions.  The last place heading south along the Chilean coast to get anything before facing the 800 miles of islands to reach the grand finale, Cape Horn.  We were returning to haul out and have our shaft repaired.  While there, we’d hoped to get the bottom painted, davits made and stock up with at least two months of food.   

We spent eight days at the dock organizing and planning our time on “the hard”.  This is the third time in a year that we’ve hauled out.  I won’t bore you with the ins and outs of a boat yard.  Suffice to say, it’s dirty, difficult living conditions, and frustrating.  A saving grace for us were the folks from s/v Storm Bay of Hobart, Margie and Chris.  They’re from Tasmania, the land down under the land down under.  They had been in the marina four months and knew where, who, and how to get things happening. 

 

 Margie also likes to walk and read, two of my favorite things.  We had a girls’ day out attending a book club meeting with Chilean women who like to read and speak in English.   After adjourning the majority met for lunch in Puerto Varas at a beautiful hotel restaurant overlooking Lago Llanquihue.  Captain Don and I had been to Puerto Varas before on our road trip with Rich and Elaine of s/v Windarra, a quaint town with a “Artisan village feel”.

We spent 24 days in Puerto Montt, with a single goal of getting repaired and getting out again.  The weather in Chile and this part of Chile especially is cold always, even in their summer, but the winds really start to express themselves during the winter.  Successful with everything we wanted done, shaft better than ever, davits welded in place, bottom painted, we even painted the bottom of the dinghy and the bathroom aboard Limbo is now what I call, dreamsicle orange. Provisioning done we were again on our way south.  We will not be attempting the horn this year but did want to see the San Rafael Glacier a mere 350 miles away. 

Our good-byes said with promises to meet up again at least one more time, we pulled out of Club Nautico Reloncavi, Puerto Montt on March 26^th at 8:00 a.m.  All started well until around 4 p.m. when the winds increased to 18 knots making the seas sloppy with white caps.  (The Chileans call white caps cabritos, little goats)  We were going to do an overnight to get us at least as far as we had been when the shaft broke and we had to make our emergency return.  Wouldn’t you know, at 3:00 a.m. the engine came to a grinding halt!  What now?!*%#   Deck lights on, high beam flashlight searching, we see no fishing nets, no boats.  Instead, Limbo has been caught in a giant kelp patch!  We tried in vain to free the prop with the boat hook, no go.  We had to gun the engine forward and reverse to cut through it.  We laughed afterwards at being told as children not to be afraid of the dark, and as parents we passed that same lie onto our own kids.  The west coast of South America has plenty to be afraid of during the day let alone at night. 

not the kelp patch that captured us but an example

Our first anchorage was around 1 p.m. the following day at Caleta Punta Porvenir a picturesque anchorage with golden sandy beach, waterfall, rock cliff, forested mountain side, ingredients for paradise.  With only an anchor required here, no shore lines, we had time to launch the dinghy and go exploring. (We are using the “Patagonia & Tierra del Fuego Nautical Guide” by Mariolina Rolfo & Giorgio Ardrizzi as our primary information resource while in this area.  It’s referred to as the “Italians book or the blue book.  An invaluable guide and necessity for sailing these waters.)

About 6 p.m. as we were preparing dinner, sustained winds of 30 to 36 knots started howling over the mountains making Limbo swing on her anchor, healing over on her side from time to time.  A nightmare that lasted 4 ½ hours.  We were both up with the engine running just in case the anchor pulled and we needed to fend ourselves into deeper waters.  We did not wait for sunrise,  instead opting to get out by 7 a.m. the following morning heading further south to meet up with our friends from Windarra.  By 1:15 p.m. we were in extremely calm water at Marina Puyuhuapi.  There would be no chance for a repeat of the previous nights winds while here.  

Marina Puyuhuapi

None of us had lunch so we walked into the village for a bite to eat.  The three of them ordered waters and what fan fare it was served with.  A glazed glass bottle with silver embossed writing and logo, gracing the neck a slender glossy black tag also silver embossed logo announcing a gourmet bottle of water called, ”Ice Swan Glacier Water”.  The server presented this bottle with simple glasses and a brochure that read, “According to Japanese Dr. Masaru Emoto, water is sensitive to ambient sound.  To preserve ICE SWAN’S original essence, we use during the bottling process, an audio system that reproduces classical music.  Masaru Emoto produced some beautiful photographs of the ice crystals that give shape to the molecular structure of ICE SWAN.”  “To enjoy the delicate flavor of ICE SWAN, we recommend to drink between 46 and 53 degrees Fahrenheit.”   

We started cracking jokes about whom and what used this water 40,000 years ago and maybe we should play classical music while we run the water makers on our boats.  What a marketing scam.  But then, we wondered about the price……. and the jokes ended.

Waterfall on the way to Marina Puyuhuapi

We spent 2 days there catching up.  It rained all day one day and then snowed overnight.  The ice on the docks did not take away from the panoramic view.   

view out the back of Limbo

fresh snowfall

For our cruising friends thinking of coming this way, the marina at Puyuhuapi is about $40 US per day cash.  There are no ATM’s here, no Wi-Fi, and no cell service.  The further south you go, there are less and less amenities.  Both Windarra and Limbo took on fuel here via jerry cans paying around $30 in transportation to get it back to our boats.  Water on the dock is potable, there is also trash disposal and laundry is $8 per load.  The town stores have basic supplies for provisioning but I recommend looking closely at expiration dates.  There are several restaurants and hostels because during high season, January and February the place is quite busy for outdoor adventures. 

The small town was founded by German settlers that started making carpets here in 1935 and still make high end handmade carpets, Fábrica de Alfombras.   It’s one of the last towns on the great Panamericana highway running south.

We took a short trip to Caleta Seno Morrás on Isla Magdelena anchor down for the night.  Following morning we were off to Isla Hilda, a private island that Elaine and Rich had been invited to.  Here we had to have lines to shore in addition to the anchor.  We spent one night here to say our good-byes again for we continue to head south and Windarra is going north.  

Limbo at Isla Hilda

We made a short trip only 10 miles to Puerto Aguirre on Isla Huichas the following day.  This would be one of the last opportunities to change our zarpe for heading around the horn this year.  We spent two days in deliberation, do we do it or not.  NOT!  We were suffering from the cold and it was only going to get worse.  We would stay the plan for once.

This is a quaint expensive village.  We purchased gasoline for the dinghy here at $8 a gallon. 

the gas station

They have a unique cemetery on Isla Eugenio just across from the town that looks as big as the town. 

the whole island is a cemetery

can only do burials at low tide, dock is broken

Enough dilly dallying, it’s time to get some miles towards San Rafael.   

There was a storm approaching so we would need to get there see the glacier and then find a hole to sit in for a few days.  

Captain Don doing the usual daily email check in with the Armada, was shocked to have received emails from the kids announcing an 8.2 earthquake in Iquique, tsunami on the way.  We assured them we were safe from the tsunami and had not heard of the earthquake. 

April 4^th all day travel we anchored in Rio Pato, which runs into Bahia Rafael.  April 5^th, 9:36 a.m. it is very foggy.  The sun was trying to burn through as we made our way down river following an ice berg back into the bay. 

Visibility is 100 feet max, we motor dodging and swerving using the radar.  Ice bergs shrouded in fog, gently floating with the current are everywhere! 

the red spots are icebergs

I was on the bow as a lookout but the radar was more help than my eyes trying to avoid a “Titanic” crisis!  I’ve heard that only 1/5 Th of a berg can be seen above the water, the rest of it sits silently invisible below the surface. 

below is another 2 feet of ice

Captain Don’s intense concentration had him on edge.  Not worrying about colliding as much as scratching the new paint on Limbo it took three haul outs to get.  He cringed each time one scraped our side.  The book we use as a reference say the bergs litter the bay, this was more like an iced over lake that was breaking up.  Ice bergs were everywhere; in some spots you could have hopped one to the other!

ice berg litter

We saw a spectacular white rainbow when we entered the lagoon. 

I've seen the end of a white rainbow and felt the magic

 

this was the most remarkable rainbow I have ever seen.

We saw a sea lion, I said it was a leopard seal sunning on an ice berg. (Leopard seals are vicious penguin hunters and have been known to take a bite out of inflatable dinghies.)

The sun finally made a full appearance and what a show we had then.  I won’t try to give words to what that experience was.  Look at the pictures and imagine sitting there as the ice calves making waves as tall as Limbo.  Thunder so loud it can vibrate the shrouds on the boat as the glacier moves bit by bit.  Ice so pressurized that it takes on a blue color that cannot be reproduced even by “Crayola”.   Simply stunning.  All of it.  

leopard seal - not - for sure

 

San Rafael Glacier - the farther most glacier from the pole that comes into the sea

as we arrived in front of the glacier the fog lifted revealing a picture perfect day 

a large iceberg that is rolling over look at the blue

face of the glacier

see the bubbling water, ice had just calved

could be part of Superman's lair

the blue of the ice is unbelievable!

It took almost 3 hours to maneuver through the fog and bergies (ice bergs) to get to the glacier and only 2 to get back to Rio Pato where we spent another night.  While winding and weaving through the bergs on our way out we tried to get close enough to get some glacier ice of our own for our afternoon CDA (cheated death again) cocktail hour.  Didn’t work, once back at anchor we launched the dinghy ran back out into the bay with my rock hammers. 

 

















This is not recommended but if you ever find yourself trying to get a piece of ice off of an ice berg, take care it doesn’t flip on you, or cut you or stab a hole in your dinghy.  After our lovely, better than ever CDA drink we started laughing about marketing our “LIMBO Glacier Ice” we risked limb and dinghy to get!  What an adventure.   

We were emotionally spent with what we had seen.  The magnitude of beauty and rawness of Mother Nature had us spellbound. 

All that way, we asked each other if it was worth it?  YES!

TIC TOC SANTA DOMINGO

A day of firsts, not unlike your first attempt at riding a bike, anchoring in Patagonia can be scary, nerve racking, and an accomplishment once done.  We had left Marina Quinched at 6 p.m. arriving in Bahia Tic Toc, at Isla Huepán the following morning at 9 a.m.  This was the first anchorage for us to need to tie Limbo to shore.  Two lines aft and two anchors forward.  This is / was challenging.  Fortunately on the east side of the cove, there were several lines hanging from the trees left from those who have gone before us.  

Captain Don motored in stern to, dropped the anchor, I held her in place while he dinghies to shore surveying what we needed.  He brought back one of the existing lines to temporarily secure us then he took one of our lines back to tie to a tree.  Anchor snug, one line aft secure, I get in dinghy with him to take second line out, rocks to dangerous for the dinghy, he let me out to climb up the rocks and tie the second line to a tree.  Back to Limbo, Captain Don dropped second anchor.  This little dance took one and half hours.  We’ll need to be faster next time.  Davits would certainly help in launching the dinghy quicker.  Reviewing the job, we’ll need a way to more easily release and retrieve the shore lines lest we too leave a souvenir behind. 

There were two more boats in the anchorage, one catamaran and one large charter boat with all the toys including a bright red helicopter.  They were flying their guest to fly fish the rivers in the surrounding mountains.  They also set up a white tent on the beach complete with chefs to cater a picnic lunch for their guests.  

We too had a picnic on the beach complete with chef Don.  

       

 I bet they didn’t have what we had!

As we cruised the area in the dink, we came upon two different colonies of sea lions, the larger one sunning on a smooth white rock with a snow capped mountain providing a back drop for a picture perfect moment. 

This is my rock

the Imperial Cormorant

Around 3 p.m. the winds shifted and started coming from the south at 15 to 17 knots, and calming around 6 p.m.  Not to worry, Limbo was stretched tight from bow to stern.   We put out our crab trap for the first time using pork chop scraps from dinner, opened a bottle of champagne toasted our anniversary, our voyage south, and another picnic with a different menu. 

The following morning we pull the crab trap, eureka! Live crabs, only, they were not really big enough to eat, we’ll use chicken next time. 

I wanted to get in some dinghy practice so I went for a solo ride.  I was startled when a grey streak passed under me.  Then there was another and another.  Dolphins began surfacing.  One rolled on its side and looked at me with a large expressive eye as if to say, “hello let’s play”.  Game on, I did my best to accommodate full throttle on our 15hp Yamaha.  We zoomed to the end of the cove, dolphins jumping the bow wake, shooting back and forth so fast I couldn’t keep up.  What fun.  Turning around we raced back to Limbo.  I had as much fun as they even though it scares me to get on a plane with our dinghy when I’m the one driving. 

Planning our next anchorage in Santa Domingo 20 miles away we had decided to hoist the dinghy, motor still attached, up onto the stern platform.  Taking off seemed to be fine, then we hit three to five foot waves going through a tidal surge and now the idea was a very bad one.  We headed up into the wind and released the dinghy to tow it the rest of the way.  Heavy rains with sleet ensued, cold winds increased 17 to 22 knots on the stern; the entrance to Santo Domingo could not come soon enough.  Arriving around noon grateful only one anchor was necessary here.  We huddled around the heater waiting for clear skies. 

Blue skies bellowed out the following day, us answering the call with a dinghy exploration up the gorgeous Rio Cumbre.  We traveled as far as water depth allowed then banked the dinghy and walked the rest of the way through marsh land up higher onto a grass clearing that borders a pristine mountain lake.  We stood there in silence indulging our senses.  Casually leaning on his new found walking stick, Captain Don asks, “How many Americans have stood right here?” We speculated at less than ten.  

Reverie broken as the tide was going out, we rushed back to the dinghy so we wouldn’t be stranded.  Too late.  We had only 3 or 4 inches of water left.  We carried it as far as we could then Captain Don used his stick as a pole pushing it out further.  I climbed the rocks, scurrying from one wind worn smooth rock to the next, sometimes on my backside, sometimes on hands and knees, grabbing for strongholds as I made my way to a point deep enough to clamber down and get back in the dinghy. 

Back on board Limbo, we had missed our opportunity to move to another anchorage.  Captain Don did some routine maintenance checks.  He discovered that the shaft was backing out!  Oh, this is bad, very bad.  We were in such a remote area options were at zero.  He tried to fix it but the set screw in the flange was stripped.  Captain MacGyver to the rescue!  Not exactly sure what he did but he announced a temporary repair had been made.   Then I think I heard him mumble something that sounded like, “as long as we don’t use reverse”.    UGH!  Continuing south into even more remote anchorages could easily become a survival situation if the repair failed.  

The following morning we pulled anchor and headed north to Puerto Montt where the boat could be hauled out and repaired properly.  How sad we felt at leaving a journey that had only begun. 

Much anxiety we solemnly forge ahead 150 miles non-stop to Puerto Montt.  I sat on the deck with my breakfast viewing the mountains, many wonders coming to mind.  These are glorious statuesque reminders of an all encompassing life cycle.  The ocean surges in and out with the moon cycles rushing millions of gallons of water in and out to form bays and coves amongst the towers of rock and earth.  The mountains stand witness to all.  They have seen the sun rise and set millions of times, the landscape a result of rains, snows, winds, earthquakes and landslides.  

At first you see only trees and rocks.  As you continue to gaze, they become seductive and intimate revealing variegated hues of color, changing with the sun or shadows.  Hidden with cloud or fog, when the sun shines you can see vaulted snow covered peaks, the bareness of a single tree trunk, a patch of mossy grass, waterfalls, crevices in the cliffs sculpted by wind or cut through from landslides.  This was a majestic show of life true to the universe, standing there in the experience of time.  What a moment. 

Again I’m staring at these mountains and I start thinking about the spirits alive within them, awaiting rebirth.  Maybe I’ve watched too many westerns or read one too many novels.  As I stare in wonder, the outlines against the blue sky started taking on facial structure with nose, chin, and parted lips.  Striking facial similarities of people I know brought me out of my trance.  Shaken and awed I inwardly laughed at myself for such thoughts.  Still, I looked in wonder for the past, present and future of these vibrant and intoxicating giants of earth.  They have certainly captured my imagination begging me to return.

the coast of Chile