To the Strait of Magellan and Beyond

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The Magallanes region of extreme southern Chile is cut off from the rest of the country by the vast southern ice sheet and the miles of broken coastline of Chile's southern fjords. Because of its isolation, the people in the Magallanes region like to think of themselves as a separate entity from the northern part of the country, they even have their own flag. I learned all of this because of one question I asked while sitting in a cafe in Puerto Natales, Chile - The beautiful flag of blue and yellow separated by a jagged, mountain-like line that left a wide field of blue at the top, which contained the five stars of the southern cross at its left side, was all over town and flew next to the Chilean flag at government facilities, so I had asked the lady working at the cafe what it stood for. Though isolated, the Magallanes region of Chile contains some of the most magnificent scenery in the world and, though a bit faded, and important and somewhat opulent history. I had come for both.

I had crossed the border at a dusty little crossing consisting of a few buildings, a section of unpaved road and a large radio antenna. From there we raddled our way down the long winding road, past large grassy hills and rocky outcrops, to the town of Puerto Natales - There were several road crews busily paving over the gravel track with concrete, which slowed us down a lot, but will ensure a comfortable and quick journey in the future. I arrived in Puerto Natales, located on the lovely Last Hope Sound, to a slightly odd sight: Nicely paved streets and gravel sidewalks - What made it odd was that everything was developed as if there were sidewalks, but they just were not there (I later learned that they had been there but they had been removed to make way for new ones.) I found a place to stay for my first night in Chile and then I set off to explore the town.

The following day I went on a tour of the 'Cueva del Milodón', a cave made famous because of the discovery of remains of the giant ground sloth, or milodón, including a few well preserved sections of skin, complete with hair. The remains seemed so recent that several expeditions were sent out into the wilds of Patagonia to try and secure a live specimen - None of the expeditions were successful in capturing a live milodón, but they did result in the first detailed accounts of the natural history of the area. The cave itself was nothing more than a large, deep recess in the cliffs formed by the wave actions of a long disappeared body of water. Inside there is evidence of prehistoric man's occupation of the cave as well as milodóns - Likely at the same time. There was a paved foot path that was installed in an attempt to keep the large number of visitors from destroying the scientific value of the cave, but, as would be expected, nobody follows the trail. The cave and the landscape that it is located in were enough to make it a must see for me, but the main attraction was a life-sized statue of a milodón that stands on a rise just inside the mouth of the cave. As I was taking the obligatory pictures of me and the milodón, I heard an old lady yell in an excited voice, "¡Hay dos zorros!" I looked in the direction she was pointing and there they were, two Patagonian foxes. The photographic bonanza that followed resulted in a few good pictures, despite the difficult light conditions in the cave - The hoards of careless tourists finally descended on the two masked heroes and they ran for cover as if the whole of the Spanish colonial army was upon them.

My main reason for stopping in Puerto Natales was not to see the Cave of the Milodón, as wonderful as it was, but to venture into one of South America's most scenic national parks for a few days of world-class trekking. I was going into Torres del Paine National Park to join the thousands of trekkers who flock to its wilderness on a yearly basis. I spent my first few days in Puerto Natales getting my food planned out and renting my camping gear, since I had none of my own. By the time my early morning bus arrived to whisk me away to the park I had whittled away the weight of my pack until I had reached a manageable load, but it was still more than any self-respecting elephant driver would force upon his beast - The one thing I had going for me was the fact that I could hang my camera bag in front of me, which balanced all of the weight perfectly over my hips and made it one of the easiest loads I have ever trekked with. The drive to the park took me back down the rough road I had entered the country on, past the dusty border post and into some of the loveliest sheep country I have seen and then we came to a stop at the park entrance near a greenish, glacial lake filled with pink flamingos. I got my first view of the famous towers as we handled the park entrance formalities and waited for more passengers to arrive. We left the main entrance at Laguna Amarga and we wound our way around several grassy hills filled with guanacos, occasionally getting impressive views of the cuernos, and then we came to a stop on the shore of the inconceivably turquoise Lago Pehoé and I got off of the bus.

I grabbed all of my gear and I walked down a short trail to a dock that had a large catamaran tied up to it. While I waited for the crew to arrive and start taking passengers, I tried my lunch rations for the first time - I had planned well, because, with the help of my heavy bottle of pepper sauce, it was delicious! I also had a long conversation with a Peruvian from Huarez who was in town for a week - That just shows how popular of a place Torres del Paine is, because he lives in one of Peru's best trekking areas! A few men walked up the dock to the boat and then they motioned us all aboard. Inside, the boat was very spacious with a lot of comfortable seating, a small coffee bar and a large platform in front, which looked as if it was designed as a stage, but now supported a mountain of neatly stacked backpacks. Outside, up a small staircase in the stern, was a large viewing area. I took my seat in the rear of the boat so that I could quickly get to the top deck once we were underway and then I sat and watched the stream of trekkers file past - A German friend that I had met in Mendoza was one of the last people on board and we shared our stories from the road as the boat left the dock. The first part of the voyage had stunning views of the Cuernos del Paine, or Horns of Paine, so I headed up to the roof to snap a few photos. With a few other hardy passengers, I fought the strong wind and punishing spray for nearly ten minutes and then I returned to the cabin soaked, but with some very nice pictures. I spent the rest of the voyage across Lago Pehoé enjoying a cup of hot chocolate and great conversation. After about a half hour we pulled up to the dock at Refugio Lago Pehoé and my trek began.

My first day on the trail was one of my most memorable. The scenery ranged from wide open canyons and ridges with sweeping views and scenic vistas of colorful lakes and snow capped peaks to dense forests filled with hidden streams and colorful flowers. The weather varied as much as the landscape, going from warm, sunny blue skies to cold, gray and rainy and back again, but the rain was never severe enough to send me seeking shelter. At the high point of the day's walk I was greeted with a stunning view of Glacier Grey and winds so cold and fierce that I thought for a second I had returned to McMurdo Station as I struggled to stay on my feet. In a few places the trail ran along the edge of a precipitous cliff and sometimes it occupied a stream bed, but it was a good trail the whole way. In one of the forested sections I approached a group of people quietly admiring a spot on a tree next to the trail. As I got closer, the spot turned into my only wildlife spotting of the day (other than the guanacos from the bus window). It was a small, gray-white bird of prey sitting calmly on a branch about chest high. I quietly joined the group on the trail and admired the bird for a few minutes, but, just as I got my camera out and pointed in the correct direction, the bird got camera shy and flew away - That is the way it goes with wildlife photography! Shortly after my encounter with the bird I came to a side trail and a sign that told me I had arrived at my campsite on the shore of Lago Grey. The campsite was spectacularly located near the massive Glacier Grey and from my tent I could watch icebergs floating by on the chalky-gray waters of the lake. After I finished getting camp set up and eating my dinner, which was another culinary success, I walked over to the end of a small peninsula near by and I sat and watched the massive blue glacier until the sun went down - A very nice way to end my first day on the trail!

The following morning, well rested and well fed, I set off back in the direction I had come from. I retraced my steps all the way to the giant turquoise lake, stopping to have lunch at a nice forested area I had selected the day before. I sat near an amazing tree that had fallen over and was being supported by one of its branches, which, along with all of the others, had started growing up again - The tree was still alive and doing well! The sun was striking Lago Pehoé at just the right angle and the water was radiating the most vivid turquoise color, which set the landscape a glow and made it difficult to continue down the trail. Just as I left the splendors of Lago Pehoé behind me I gained the lofty, angular peaks of the cuernos in front of me, placed in such a way to captivate my eyes and prevent them from returning to the glowing lake just below. I pushed on from one nice view to the next for the rest of the day. I took a long break about mid afternoon and I just laid down in a grassy field and soaked up the warm sunshine - Hiking in the southern latitudes this time of year has the advantage of late sunsets, so I was in no hurry to get to camp! After about eight hours of hiking, including several breaks, I crossed over a very bouncy cable bridge above a fast flowing, glacial river and walked into Campamento Italiano, my home for the following two nights. That evening I sat on the rocky bank of the river trying in vain to get a good picture of one of the massive Andean condors soaring overhead, around the icy peaks above camp. Just as I decided to give up on photography for the evening, a torrent duck jumped up on a rock right next to me and stared in my direction, tapping his foot as if to say, "Are you going to take the picture or what?!" Once I had taken the photo he jumped in and proceeded to dive in and out of the fast flowing water, pausing each time he surfaced to make sure I was still watching his humerus antics - I thought I could hear him say, "Look at what I can do!", in a slightly hyperactive duck voice. My friend the duck finally said good by and flew away, leaving me alone on the shore, so I went to bed.

My journey into the lovely French Valley started early the next morning. I was traveling light since I was leaving all of my camping gear in the tent and it proved to be a nice, leisurely day of hiking. The trail ascended away from the river and the sound of rushing water, while always present, was overshadowed by the thunderous roar of the constant avalanches coming off of the large glaciated mountain above the French Glacier. The temperature was pleasantly cool and the air was damp and the forest was alive with the sounds of hidden birds - At one point I did see a group of parrots, but even they decided to hide from me! I had been walking in fairly open forest for most of the way up the first rise, but when I reached the top all that remained of the once vast stand of trees were burned up stumps. The scorched land seemed to be a few years old and life was returning quickly. The path disappeared into the forest again and there it stayed, with the exception of a few small areas, all the way to Campamento Britanico and the mirador. I ate lunch in one of the wide clearings beneath massive mountains and I considered stopping there, because I didn't think it could get any more beautiful than where I was. I pushed on and what a good decision it was. I arrived at the mirador, which was an elevated rock outcrop that was more or less in the center of the valley and had a wonderful three-hundred and sixty degree view of the surrounding peaks, about an hour after lunch. The valley itself was spectacular as it was nearly completely surrounded by sheer faces and jagged peaks, were it not for the path I had followed and a few steep slopes the valley would have been completely isolated - A lost world! I sat on the rocks of the mirador for several hours admiring the view and then I slowly made my way back down to camp.

The following day was a long one, but it was rewarding. I was on the trail early and by the time I started passing other hikers I had been on the walking for nearly two hours. One of the first people I passed was my English friend from the Ruta 40 bus - We stopped in the middle of a steep slope, he was going up and I was going down, and we talked for a while while we rested our legs a bit. For most of the day I was completely alone on the trail and the rolling grasslands, bound by the massive cordillera on one side and the olive green waters of Lago Nordenskjold on the other, gave the impression of extreme remoteness. The trail started climbing again towards the end of the day as I turned into the canyon of the Rio Ascencio and the home stretch for the day's walk. The trail was passing through the grazing land for a large herd of horses, including several painted ones, and for the first time in the park I decided that the water in the streams was not safe to drink - I think it was the floating horse apples in the water that led me to that conclusion! The last two hours of walking followed the main trail to the towers themselves, so there were a lot of people to contend with. The trail was very narrow and exposed in places and traffic jams were regular occurrences. At some places the trail disappeared entirely and required a bit of scrambling to get past - One of these spots had a knotted rope that I had to lower myself down on, which I thought was a lot of fun, but some of the other people looked at it as an insurmountable obstacle! It was late afternoon and every muscle in my body was protesting when I finally reached the top of the last rise and walked into Campamento Torres, just below the trail up to the towers themselves. I quickly set up camp, ate and went to sleep, ending an exhausting day.

Somehow I had broken the digital portion of my cheap watch, which included the alarm, so I was constantly waking up all night to check the time - When 4:30 am finally arrived I headed out of the tent into the cold morning darkness and I headed up towards the towers. The trail was nearly impossible to follow in the dark, but I knew that 'up' would get me where I wanted to go, so that is the direction I climbed. I reached the top of the steep boulder field just as the sky began to lighten. The towers were right in front of me, but they were shrouded in clouds. I still had about an hour to wait for the sun to arrive, so I started my stove and fixed my last breakfast in the park. I took a few pictures that revealed the need to clean some dust off of the camera's sensor, which set me into motion - Between gulps of oatmeal I learned how to lock the mirror up and then I found the dust and eliminated it. I went ahead and cleaned the entire camera, inside and out, and I was all ready when the sun bathed the towers in the deep red of the early morning light. Sunrise at the Torres del Paine is one of the most spectacular views I have seen and I was lucky, because the clouds that had been cloaking the pillars of granite disappeared with the sun, there was no wind and the temperature was a lot warmer than I was told to expect - In short, the conditions were perfect! Mother Nature had decided to give me and the other early birds a grand show!

The color of the towers started to fade as the sun got higher in the sky, so I packed up and headed back down to camp. I quickly disassembled everything in camp and was on my way to the parking lot and the end of my trek. I made quick work of all of the hills that, in my exhausted mind the day before, had seemed as daunting as Everest and then I strolled into the parking lot at the bottom, right as the lunch bell in my head came to life. I had completed one of the best treks I have ever done, through some of the most scenic landscapes imaginable and all that remained was the bus ride back to town. I remember getting on the bus, I remember eating a small piece of chocolate cake and drinking a liter of orange juice at a stop we made and I remember pulling to a stop in Puerto Natales, the rest of the ride was a blur, because everyone on the bus was exhausted and sound asleep (except the diver I hope!) The following day I was on a bus again, heading southbound to the Strait of Magellan and the port city of Punta Arenas.

Everyone I had told my plans to told me that Punta Arenas was a boring town and not worth more than a brief stop, but I ignored them all. I was drawn to Punta Arenas because of its connection to the Antarctic and its important place in maritime history. I was immediately reminded of the US Antarctic Program's presence in Punta Arenas when I first pulled into town and saw the orange hull and yellow superstructure of the Lawrence M Gould, one of two research vessels leased by the National Science Foundation for Antarctic research, tied up to the pier at the port. Later, at the hostel, I met two girls who had just finished up a six week science contract on the Gould. I walked around Punta Arenas for a while on my first afternoon in town and I immediately liked the place. I had started walking at the waterfront near my hostel and I found a surprisingly nice and completely unexpected piece of art on an otherwise neglected street along the coast. I had found a street into the imaginary world, which passed directly through a building, but was sadly one I could only follow in my mind. The street was a well painted continuation of the two adjacent walls of the building and it was not immediately apparent which was real and which was imaginary, but I really liked it!

I had two main objectives while I was in Punta Arenas. One was a fairly simple task that only took one well placed question and a bit of walking. I was searching for the rusting hulk of an old sailing ship that appears in a lot of the tourist brochures and in a few books I have read. The ship, the frigate Lord Lunsdale, was beached just south of town and its slowly rusting hull now stands as a small reminder of the glorious day of the sail and of Punta Arenas's important place in the maritime history of the world - Punta Arenas was an important port for ships going from Europe and the east coast of the U.S. into the pacific in the days before the Panama Canal sent the town into obscurity. My second objective, following Sir Ernest Shackleton's footsteps through the town, proved to be a bit more difficult. When Shackleton arrived in Punta Arenas in July of 1916 he had already completed his epic journey in the James Caird and the difficult crossing of the uncharted interior of South Georgia and he had already had two failed attempts to reach his stranded crew at Elephant Island. He turned to the people of Punta Arenas and managed to get all the help he needed from there. While he was in Punta Arenas he set up his headquarters in the British Club on the top floor of a prominent downtown building. I have also read in a few places that Shackleton stayed in the Castillo Milward while he was in town, though it has been difficult to confirm. After Shackleton successfully rescued every man off of Elephant Island with the help of the Chilean Naval Vessel Yelcho, the welcome back 'party' was also held at the British Club.

The British Club was easy enough to find, right off of the main square. It is now a bank and is closed to the public, but there is a big plaque on the wall with the buildings history. Castillo Milward was more difficult to locate, but a chance meeting at breakfast on my second day sent me in the right direction - An American man and his family sat down at the table next to mine and started filling out post cards. He mentioned Shackleton a few times, so I started up a conversation. It turned out that he was also in town following Shackleton's footsteps and he had a better guide book. I got the address of the home and I shared with him the following quote:

"We were the fools who could not rest in the dull earth we left behind, but burned with passion tor the south, drank strange frenzy from its wind.
The world where the wise men sit at ease, fade on our unregretful eyes, and thus, across this uncharted seas, we stagger on our own enterprise" dated July of 1916, Punta Arenas

I found the quote in a local news paper and it was said to have been left by Shackleton in the the guest book at the place he stayed - We both left with new information. In another strange twist, it turned out that they knew one of my friends and coworkers from McMurdo Station - It seems like the world is a small place sometimes!

Later that day I visited the Shackleton Bar, which is located in the Braun house on the square. Inside there was a picture of Shackleton that was donated to the bar by his brother and the walls were covered with a series of excellent watercolors that were done as a tribute to the Endurance Expedition - I asked if there were copies of the paintings for sale, but they are all one of a kind and haven't been reproduced yet! I walked a few blocks away from the square and found the Milward Castle right where the man told me it was and, as he also mentioned, it was for sale! I immediately hatched a plan to buy the building and turn it into a Bed and Breakfast oriented towards Antarctic travelers and Shackleton fans, I even had one of my Chilean friends offer his help in cutting through all of the red tape in exchange for a free place to stay when he was in town, but in the end I abandoned the plan - I imagine the house is way out of my price range anyway!

With my two main objectives in Punta Arenas completed, I settled down and started exploring the town at a more reasonable pace and enjoying its slightly faded glory - I really liked the statue in the square that was built in the 1920's commemorating the 400th anniversary of Magellan's voyage. On my last night in the hostel I had another surprise encounter, this time with someone I worked with in McMurdo Station. He was returning from a contract at Palmer Station and was surprised to run into me there - I suppose the southern tip of South America would be the last place I would expect to run into someone I know as well! The following morning I boarded a bus bound for Ushuaia and Tierra del Fuego.

The journey to Ushuaia was a long one, but it was mostly enjoyable. When we left Punta Arenas, the road went north for a while and then, after we stopped to pick up more passengers off of another bus, it turned east. Eventually we came to a stop at a ferry crossing at Primera Angostura, one of the narrowest parts of the Strait of Magellan and the main gateway to Tierra del Fuego. We all walked on to the ferry and then the bus followed. By the time the ferry packers had shoved every vehicle they could onto the massive boat I had taken my place in the starboard bow with a few of my friends from the bus. The ramp came up and the motors roared and then we left Patagonia behind us. I was thinking about what it must have been like nearly five-hundred years ago when Magellan passed through here on the Trinidad, adding new lines on the otherwise blank map during the first circumnavigation of the world (that we know about). I was lost in thought when I felt the first splash of cold saltwater from the bow spray on my face. It was not a lot of water, so I stayed put as did one of my friends. A few minutes later, as my smart friend watched from about fifteen feet away, a large wind driven wave came over the bow and it was followed by a second even bigger. Luckily I had been facing the other direction taking a picture, so my camera was spared but I was completely soaked on my entire back side, from my head to my feet! My first foray into the waters of the 'Furious Fifties' was a wet one and I wasn't even in the southern ocean yet - One thing is for sure, I will always remember my first crossing of the Strait of Magellan! While we were up bathing in the strait, my other friend was watching penguins play in the bow wave!

On the other side, I took my first soggy step onto Tierra del Fuego, the land of fire, and then took my seat on the bus with a 'squish'. About an hour later we arrived at the border crossing back into Argentina. I was still soaked and, as a whole, fairly un-presentable as I walked up to the passport control agent and smiled - So much for putting on a good image for the immigrations people! The rest of the journey was fairly uneventful. The scenery was the same for most of the way with rolling grasslands and the occasional stretch of Atlantic coastline. By the time the mountains around Ushuaia appeared I had mostly dried off.

I have now been in Ushuaia for a week tying up loose ends and handling obligations (like taxes). I visited the lovely Tierra del Fuego national park, where I spent a long day walking through the tranquil lenga forests and wet peat bogs and admiring the fairly accessible wildlife - The most vicious creature in the forest was the bunny. I had lunch at a camp ground on the shore of Lago Roca in the park and there I saw one of the more amazing things I have seen in a while - Hundreds of birds of prey covering the trees and filling the skies, flying right past me every few seconds. I walked to the end of the American Highway, which is the furthest south you can drive on public roads - With the exception of a short stretch of impassable jungle at the Darien Gap, you could drive from that point in Lapataia Bay all the way to Alaska. On the 24th of February I spent the whole day with my eyes glued to the horizon in the direction of the Beagle Channel. Finally, late in the afternoon, I spotted the tall profile of my ship coming into port. My ride to Africa had arrived and it was every bit as beautiful as I had hoped!

For those of you who have been following my travels for the last few years and for my new readers, I will be incommunicado for the next two months. Stay tuned for what I hope will be some grand seafaring adventures in the great southern ocean, which I will post once I arrive in Cape Town.

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Photos

Reflections of Paine
I got lucky with the sunrise at the towers, because it was warm with no wind.

Cueva del Milodón
The standard picture from inside the cave.

Colors of the Underworld
Inside the milodón cave.

Zorro
One of the little foxes from inside the cave.

Me and the Milodón
Don't worry mom, its plastic!

Cuernos del Paine
This is the view from the top of the catamaran. Can you tell that it is cold and windy?

A Cool View
I stopped in a rainstorm to take this picture. It is a little dark, but I still liked it.

Glacier Grey
This is one of the pictures I took from the area around the mirador after I got to Campamento Grey.

Along the Trail
This was one of the many amazing views along the trail on day two of the W trek.

Inconceivably Turquoise
Lago Pehoé on day two. It was hard to leave this sight.

A View of the Cuernos
This is the view that helped me get over Lago Pehoé.

From Campamento Italiano
The big mountain was constantly sending avalanches down with a thunderous roar.

The Torrent Duck
This is the show-off who came to play in the river. He was funny to watch.

A Hidden Waterfall
On day four the trail went right up against the cuernos, but the view was still stunning.

At Lunch
I stopped here on the third day for lunch.

Torres del Paine
One last view of my wonderful sunrise at the towers.

The Black Necked Swan
This is one of my favorite views of the swans in Last Hope Sound - They are mooning me!

The Street to Another World
This was a surprising sight that I found along the waterfront at Punta Arenas.

The Monument to Magellan
This was installed in the square in Punta Arenas to commemorate the 400th aniversary of Magellan's voyage.

Punta Arenas
A view of a town that I liked a lot, despite what I was told to expect.

The Lord Lunsdale
Objective one for my stay in Punta Arenas.

The Braun House
A famous site on the square. This house contains the Shackleton Bar.

The Shackleton Bar
I don't know if he ever was in here, but he must have visited the house asking for aid, since he used the family's boat for rescue attempt number 3.

Inside the Shackleton Bar
Note the wonderful watercolors on the wall.

The Boss
This picture of Shackleton was donated to the bar by his brother.

A Lion
It was in one of the rooms of the Braun house and I liked it!

The British Club
The top floor of this building served as Shackleton's headquarters during the rescue and it was the location of the 'welcome home' party for all of the rescued men.

Castillo Milward
This is a place that Shackleton supposedly stayed while he was in town. It is for sale and I thought it would make a great Bed and Breakfast.

Monument to the Indios and My Guide
I spent an afternoon walking around the cemetary in Punta Arenas and this little dog was my guide.

The Strait of Magellan
This is the ferry crossing where I left Patagonia.

Just Before the Deluge
My first crossing of the Strait of Magellan!

The St. Christopher
This is one of the sights in Ushuaia's harbor.

Tierra del Fuego National Park
These are remains of the shell mounds that served as the base for the simple homes of the Yamanas, who lived in the area when the first Europeans arrived.

Moss
Just a random view from allong the trail.

The Birds!
These birds of prey were swarming all over the camp on the shore of Lago Roca.

A Close Up.
These birds of prey were swarming all over the camp on the shore of Lago Roca.

Lapataia Bay
This lovely bay serves as the end of the American Highway.

Walking Down the Trail
Another random view of the lovely forests of the park.

The End of the Road
The big sign at the end. Souldn't it have bid flashing lights and warning cones, maybe a dead end sign?

Bonsai Trees
I am positive I spelled that wrong, but I am in a hurry. There was a nice exhibit of these amazing trees at the prison museum.

Cabo de Hornos
This is the last DC-3 to operate in the area. It has been restored and is now on display at the airport.

My Ride is Here
My boat accross the South Atlantic has arrived. I am off to get my stuff and say farewell to South America for now!

Comments

[travelbuffs]

I envy you!
Keith, Your adventures are a pleasure to read. Keep traveling. Keep writing!