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