I’m actually not traveling alone in Chile. My friend and former boyfriend (a much longer story I will not go into here…maybe when my book gets published!), Andy, has joined me. But he’s not alone. He’s brought his trusty video camera and we are working together again. Sometimes this can be a tricky situation and I wasn’t totally sure if we should do it or not, but we decided that the scenery down here was too beautiful and unique to pass up. We are filming segments for Current TV—the cable television network that has also just banded with Yahoo to bring more video to the web masses. I am producing and reporting. I haven’t been an on-camera reporter since college…this could be a whole new career for me, or just a fun experiment.
Today, we boarded the Navimag Magellanes ship for a four day journey south into the mysterious and awe-inspiring Patagonian Channels. We will explore the tip of the Americas where Chile splinters into towering granite pillars, ominous glaciers, and fjords. Chile is a long narrow sliver of land almost 4000 kilometers or about 2500 miles long. The eastern border is formed by the jagged peaks of the Andes. And the western edge is all Pacific Ocean straight down to Cape Horn and Tierra del Fuego.
We actually left port one day late. Although the Navimag is mostly a tourist and cargo boat, just yesterday it was called upon by the Chilean Coast Guard to perform a special rescue mission. A much smaller fishing vessel had capsized into the frigid waters and the Navimag and its passengers were the only ones in the vicinity. The ten passengers of the other boat had gone overboard and up until now, we were told they only found one survivor. Yikes.
Even though this large ferry boat is not a luxury cruise liner going through the Caribbean with goofy dance classes, the Magellanes is still not cheap. Prices range from $350 for a bunk in shared rooms of 4 bunks each to more than $1500 for a private cabin and bath. These prices do include lodging for the three-night, four day journey, plus all meals, two on/near land excursions, on board movies and lectures. We opted for the shared bunks, but luckily the bunks we picked were at the end of the room and were actually separated from the others by a wall so we virtually had our own room. I say virtually because we had to imagine a virtual door where there was none!
On our first day I interviewed the passenger supervisor and met the Captain—Carlos Moreno. He was a funny man with a big coffee-stained smile who joked with us, albeit in Spanish, on the bridge (where the boat is driven). I would later do an interview with him basically using my best ‘Spanglish.’
The term Patagonia usually refers to the narrow triangle of land in Southern Chile and Argentina…or a cool outdoor clothing company. I actually spoke to a girl who worked for “Patagonia” outfitters before I left Chicago. I pointed to her clothes and said matter-of-factly, “I’m going there.” “Huh?” she replied. Hmm, obviously one of the requirements for working for Patagonia clothing was NOT having to know that it is actually a place in the world. Sad.
Many travelers dream of visiting here, but the realities can be harsh: there is a nasty persistent wind, winters are bitter cold, and summers are short. The area was first discovered by the Spanish by explorer Ferdinand Magellan (hence the name of our boat) in 1520. He was looking for a west passage to India and eventually found the elusive straits to the Pacific Ocean, which now, of course, bears his name. Sadly, he died on the much longer journey west around the world to Spain.
The ship itself was built in 1984, but re-outfitted for tourists in 2000. They actually built the ‘hotel’ part right on top of the cargo bed. It is about 400 feet long and can reach speeds of 14.5 knots. It has lots of deck space and a cozy bar and lounge area where folks hang out and sleep or read all afternoon. Annoyingly, many leave their coats on chairs “to reserve” them for the day which is a bit unfair as the rest of us have nowhere to sit.
The crew is composed of 40 members: 20 maritime workers and 20 who work on the hotel side. Each trip has a bilingual guide who is on-hand 24 hours a day to organize activities, answer questions and make announcements such as:
“Dear Passengers—please if you are finished with you dinner, please return your trays to the window. Thank you.” “Dear Passengers—we soon enter the Gulf of Penas (Gulf of Pain), please take your sea sickness pills now.”
Our guide was Kris, a kind of all grown up “Dora the Explorer,” with a long mane of dark curly hair, round glasses, and a frequent rhythmic laugh. We later interviewed her and she helped us out with all our filming needs.
As we sailed through most of the Channels, the seas were quite calm. But, as mentioned above, as soon as we ventured out of our protected zone and into the Pacific waters, things definitely got a bit hairy. Let’s just say many passengers lost their lunch and they didn’t always make it overboard either. Workers scurried to clean up the ‘mess.’
In keeping with their strict schedule with military precision, meals still occurred whether or not folks could keep their food down or their plate in front of them. In fact, oddly enough, they served pasta with meat sauce on the night with the most movement. So spaghetti went ‘a-flyin’.’
But, it wasn’t really that big a deal especially when you considered the meal. This was no 4-star restaurant, that’s for sure. Meals consisted of a roll as hard and dense as a brick, and some salad (if you’d even call it that) of iceberg lettuce and maybe, on a good day, a sliced tomato. Then there was either chicken, or pasta, or even one night, some chop suey creation. Sorry, but Navimag won’t be winning any James Beard awards anytime soon.
During our day navigating through the rough seas of the Pacific, Andy barely managed to escape his bed. We had both donned the fashionable motion-sickness patches, but the Gulf of Pain still got the better of him. I somehow escaped the nausea, although the patch itself seemed to make me feel groggy, and I’ve actually been fighting an achy, feverish cold ever since we left the boat.
On board, there were a good mix of nationalities–Germans, Dutch, English, Swiss, French, Australians and some Kiwis. As I’d been noticing throughout South America, American tourists were definitely the rarity. I found that since I was not exactly traveling solo anymore, I definitely met less people. There is an odd dichotomy that when you are alone you are actually way more open to meeting others than when traveling with a friend.
The weather during our journey was pretty dismal, but that’s pretty standard down here. Our time outside on deck was limited by our tolerance to a cold and a sometimes brutal wind that would even send someone dressed in their best Patagonia gear running for the indoor bar. Throughout the trip, we sailed through some pretty narrow channels of cold desolate land and saw snow capped peaks in the distance.
The most dramatic stop was when we sailed right up to the frigid face of Pio XI Glacier—the largest glacier in South America. This was the first glacier I’ve ever seen up close. It was huge and craggy and took on the ‘coolest’ (pun intended) shade of blue. We circled in front of it for about an hour until the hordes of tourists had snapped all the photos they could muster.
Our only other stop was in the tiny island town of Puerto Eden—a small fishing village of just 200 people. And 10 of these folks are the last remaining of the Kawesque (Kie-wes-cah) tribe indigenous to Chile. There are no roads leading here and the weekly Navimag visits bring in much needed supplies and a few tourist dollars that help keep this tiny town alive.
Our final night crescendoed in an all out bingo fiesta!! We actually managed to win a Patagonia hat which oddly meant I actually had to dance in front of everyone. The Navimag was a unique experience, but suffice it to say, we were pretty grateful to disembark in Puerto Natales with our feet firmly planted on terra firma.