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Published: March 24th 2010
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The Beagle Channel divides Isla Grande from the southernmost islands in the squat toe of an archipelago that makes up Tierra del Fuego (itself separated from the mainland of South America by the Magellan Strait). The channel forms a natural point of reference in this dramatic, windswept corner of the world, and also forms a border in the weird political geography of the region: Argentina to the north, Chile to the south. Isla Grande itself is cut down the middle between the two countries, thus: Argentina to the east, Chile to the west. On a map the border looks as arbitrary as can be imagined, a plan devised on the back of a dinner napkin in one of the distant seats of power, in a land far, far away. Ushuaia, the capital of Argentine Tierra del Fuego (and of the entire Provincia de Tierra del Fuego, Antártida e Islas del Atlántico Sur) occupies the sharp corner of this border, where it hits the Beagle and turns sharply towards the Atlantic, winding its way gingerly down the channel. No matter where you look, you can see both countries. But I digress from the Beagle Channel…
This strait got its odd name
from a certain well known ship, the HMS Beagle, which sailed its waters - the ship which happened to carry the even better known Charles Darwin. This part of his round-the-world voyage might not be as famous as his stop in the Galapagos Islands, but here he encountered native Fuegians, the Yámana (or SH-amana as I have heard some Argentine’s say - this y=sh thing is getting a little confusing!). Admittedly, Darwin didn’t quite want to embrace these naked, “uncivilized” people as part of the human family. How to fit them into his developing notions on natural selection? More on the Yámana later, but it was the story of that encounter, which, in large part, first drew me to this remote place with a dramatic name.
So here are my own adventures on the Beagle Channel:
Day 2 (Ushuaia)
Although no one had given me this bit of news, I somehow suspected that tall riggers that had filled Ushuaia’s harbor the day before were not destined to stay long. Instinct told me, too, that they were likely going to leave sooner rather than later, so after breakfasting I descended to the waterfront where the first of the
grand ships, Mexico’s I believe, was already sailing into the distance, westward down the channel towards the Pacific. A navy band and choir were already performing a sendoff for the next ship, this time Chile’s. I was strangely sad to see them go; they had provided a festive greeting for my arrival. But I understood; they had places to go, people to see as they continued on their tour for the bicentennial celebrations.
By the time I set “sail” myself in the early afternoon, the last windjammer was long gone. Rather than hoisting sail like the HMS Beagle or one of the ships in the celebratory armada, I hopped on a sleekly modern catamaran. Again, I sort of felt like I was cheating. Although I spent much of my time on the open deck, if the icy winds off the water got to be a bit too much, I could always retreat into the comfort of the climate-controlled interior. What waves there were (the weather was remarkably good, clear, sunny - mostly! - and calm) barely made a bump due to the boat’s stabilizers. Something tells me Darwin was not so comfortable when he explored the channel and its
shores.
For six hours, we skimmed across the Beagle, making photo-op stops at Isla de los Pajaros (Bird Island, inhabited by an impressively large colony of King Cormorants), Isla de los Lobos (Sea Lion Island - sea lions must rank in the top five cutest animals!), an enigmatic lighthouse, and lastly at the show-stealing La Pingüinera. You know how I said sea lions are cute? Well, penguins just might be the most adorable creatures of all.
The colony bustled with two types, mostly with Magellanic penguins with a few Gentoo for good measure. They seemed utterly unperturbed by the catamaran sidling right up to the shore; they even seemed curious about us, wanting to play. They waddled up to the two prows, plopped in and out of the water, sometimes swimming in fast strikes hither and thither. It was all I could do to contain myself from crawling off the boat and grabbing the nearest one to give it a big cuddle. I now have all the more respect for my friend Drew who spent weeks among penguins, unable to touch them due to laws meant to protect the poor birds. An agony of cuteness! (I later discovered
My morning companion
I have this odd ability to pick up stray dogs. This one followed me all around town for a good hour. that they were not really that curious about us - they are simply all but blind when they are in daylight. But I will stick to my interpretation!)
It was hard to say goodbye to the penguins as we pulled back from the island and began the reverse journey down the Beagle Channel. As the sun began to set, I focused on the shores this time, the snowy mountains, the remote estancias (or ranches), the Chilean settlement of Puerto Williams (which probably rightfully can claim to be THE most southerly town in the world - sorry Ushuaia!). In parts, the wilderness was probably not so different from what Darwin saw back in the 1830s, bleak and beautiful.
But what would he make of Ushuaia, tourist hub of the End of the World?
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