Water water everywhere and not a drop to drink.

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This blog is dedicated to the ´'Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner´´ by Samuel Coleridge.

So, Punta Arenas. cold and grey. could do with a good lick of paint of you ask me. the hostel (Estancia) is lovely and just like and old saloon bar from the wild west. Rickety floors, that rustic paint look and an old stove that is something to behold. The owner, Alessandro is a lovley host and full of excellent information. Met a woman in the bar last night who gave good tips too, and reckon she saved me 300 quid on not venturing further south as there really is nothing to see that you cannot see from Punta Arenas. This will also give me more time in Torres del Paine too, the valleys between the two mountains like horns where " the sun cruch the ice and snow at sunset making fire" as she drunkenly put it to me and two American guys from Arizona I was sat with. The opinion of the others in the hostel, she has given me sound advise.



Punta arenas es el 'auro' del mundo, as she described it - the arse end of the world. Personally I always thought that was Avonmouth, Bristol. Now in Punta Arenas, it is clear that Avonmouth is not the arse end of the world, but you can definately see it from there.



So it's all north from here on in. I can see Teirra del Feugo from my hostel. Looks bleak and definatley not full of Feugo, as i imagined. Decided to take a boat trip to see the Magellan Penguin colony this afternoon. Having only ever seen them in a zoo thought it would be fun. So, rather than hang about the hostel for the tour guide, having time to kill decided to take the bus to the ferry pier and meet him there. Also I can then walk about some and find the Nao Victoria, the boat Magellan sailed through the straits and was the first boat to circumnavigate the world in 1521.



It would appear that the Santiago crazy bus driver has a brother working in Punta Arenas!!! Got on the bus, paid my money, showed him where I wanted to be dropped off. no problemo? si, mucho problemo. He pulls over way on the outskirts of town and points to the ferry. I duly get off the bus, bid my farewells and he drives away. Up to the ferry and you guessed it, dropped off at the wrong pier. Lo sorento senior. cinqo kilometers and pointed up the road. Happy days.



Had a smoke and stuck my thumb out. A small pick up pulled over. If a traffic police officer in the UK had seen it he would have creamed his pants. Overloaded with scrap metal, teetering from on side to the other. The scrap metal hanging way over the sides and out the back. If he drove too close to the pavement and a small child had been stood by the kerb then decapitation would have resulted. It was a pig of a vehilce too. However, I got in, and a gordo (fat) , jolly man said Hola. "El Muelle barranco amarillo por favor. " said I. "Si Si" , and that was it. He could only take me as far as the scrap yard but it was close enough, and right next to the full size replica of the Nao Victoria, which entered these as yet unnamed waters ( see previous entry) on 21st October 1520. so a bit of a result. Unfortunately within 200 years of the arrival of Eurpoean man, most of the indiginous population had died though deseases bought with them, including syphallis. Randy lot those early explorers.Anyways Magellan did not make it back to spain and dies in the phillipines on the way home in 1521. Syphallis I wouldn´t wonder.

As luck would have it there was no one around to charge me entry fee. I had arrived between tours, and so had a free poke about. The boat was very impressive but the stupid papiermache people, dressed at 16th Century sailers looked ridiculous. still, saved me 3000pesos.

So to the pengiuns. Got on the boat with my fellow botanists and off we set. CRASH!! The captain of the boat, a rotund little fella who walks with a limp, is clearly related to the crazy bus drivers. It was an almighty thump and we all lurched forward and the hot water on the stove alost fell off. We were below decks but the owner of another ferry was shouting and swearing at our chubby captain. I am not sure what was said but I am sure it was spanish swearing. Anyways, unpreterbed we set off. Unforunately the crash must have damaged the throttle as about 5 mins later CRUNCH!!!! and the engine came to an abrupt stop. my fellow crewmates and I guessed something was up when we could hear spanners and tools being used below. And that was it, 'water water everywhere and not a drop to drink'. adrift in the Magellan Straits, no, throttle, no coffee and no bloody penquins. the boat rocked from side to side and some folks were turning green. To cheer everyone up a drew a picture of a pengium and invited them to take a picture of it. Called him Pingu.

About 30 minutes later a splattering from the engine and it was a slow crawl back to the port. The only saving grace is that the engine failed by the pier, and not 2 hrs away by the pengiuns. could have been an interesting night.

back to town and into a bar. si la vida te da limones entences...has limonades. will try again tomorrow ( with different company).

adios y me gusta vos trabajo

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Photos

my lift
my lift to the pengiuns

Comments

[Sandra & Mike]

Dave, great reading - all those years of writing up reports has paid off!!