11. Puerto Montt, Chile

Puerto Montt

This is the Los Lagos region, the Lake District of Chile on the edge of the Patagonian wilderness. We are now just over a thousand kilometres south of Santiago, our final destination.

centre/left where the solid white line 

becomes dots is Petrohue Falls, our destination

The Osorno is one of twelve active volcanoes in the region. It dominates the landscape from a very long way off.

Lake Llanquihue is the largest lake in Chile 

Osorno Volcano

8,700 feet above sea level

Lady of Puerto Varas

We did a half-day excursion on a nice small bus with about a dozen fellow passengers, guided by a young local Chilean woman. 

Maria's English was terrific. She was just completing (on scholarships) her Master's Degree in Linguistics and will be starting her doctoral programme in Germany in the fall.

the dozen buses reserved by 
the Marina for shore excursions

We pre-booked online with ViaTour for about one-fourth the price of the Marina's excursion.

Our tour was like a Sunday outing with some new friends. 

Lunch was a picnic.

(more on that below)

 mingling with 

sleeping dogs and sleepy-eyed alpacas 

some of us rubbed noses with the alpacas

In the mid-1800s Chile's President Manuel Montt opened up this remote, heavily forested region of the country with immigration and resource development, bringing in a wave of German settlers. Their influence remains today. Following the cleanup of a  cataclysmic earthquake in 1960 Chileans from around the country began to relocate here.

Petrohue Falls

Frutillar was settled by German colonialists. The Teutonic flavour of the town was reported in the brochure to be rather Bavarian. We did not see anyone walking around wearing lederhosen and grey wool sweaters with pewter buttons, but there was some decidedly Deutsch architecture. Having been to the fatherland many times I left the photos of the "Bavarian" buildings for other tourists.

 On the bottom floor of this old wood frame building, there is a delicatessen that keeps some of the German food culture alive. We chose to forgo the  Würstchen, Sauerkraut, the Kuchen and the Strudel for the empanadas that were waiting at our next stop.

Puerto Varas, on the shore of Lake Llanquihue, is known as the Rose Capital of Los Lagos. The temperate climate, abundance of rainfall, and fertile land support important agricultural industries in this region. 

While the city rose gardens were near the end of their bloom, they were still stunning and I managed to preserve some of them in photographs.

Our picnic of empanadas and wine was waiting for us. Our small group feasted at the lakeshore amongst the wildflowers. It was T-shirt weather. 

our guide, Maria served us
white and red wine

This Cabernet Sauvignon is also available at home with a different label—great picnic and everyday table wine. Of course, the price is much higher in BC. Concha Y Toro is a big wine producer in Spain. One of the Iberian sons took the family label to the new world and made a success of it in Chile.

On our return to the ship, Maria dropped just the two of us off a few blocks from the dock so we could buy some of the same CabSav at a local corner store. Not a place for tourists. All the better. We bought the litre and a half for our cabin for just a few dollars: what the locals pay.  

last tender back to the ship

I was having fun in the small tienda (store), standing room only amongst the local favela residents, and I wanted to linger, to shop for some more wine, engage the locals by stretching my few words of Spanish,  performing some appropriate body language, and miming an assortment of facial expressions but my partner dragged me out of there, worried that we might miss our sailing or worse ...

Adib, Barista extraordinaire

Safe and sound, we were back on the mother ship in time for my daily cappuccino prepared by Adib, our Barista extraordinaire!

Then, I seem to recall opening the vino tinto ...

...ooo0ooo...

The next blog post is: about Santiago

www.noordinaryseaman.com for more photography and writing 

10. No Ordinary Seaman Is On The Bridge

No Ordinary Seaman 

Is On The Bridge

setting the sextant

Doing a cruise is quite a commitment, especially one for as long as 20 days and as far away from home as South America. We are no strangers to travelling far and wide, but as mentioned in an earlier post, we do not consider ourselves part of the cruising crowd, preferring instead, less costly travel on terra firma and the freedom of choice that it has.

see the Bridge with wraparound windows
 that extend over the side of the ship

Why did we choose to do this cruise? Mostly, it was to celebrate 50 years together. South America has always been a curiosity; but a cruise? This was yet another type of exploration. And if one is prepared to break the budget, then I highly recommend this with your life partner.

Incidentally, the following photos were taken with a 

smartphone because I thought that for reasons of security, 

photographs would not be permitted on the bridge. I misinformed myself.

The old seaman in me has always wanted to sail around Cape Horn. Ever since scribing the first few pages of No Ordinary Seaman - A Memoir, a more pressing desire has been to get back on the bridge of a ship. Since publication, I was determined that this be a cruise ship. Guess what? It happened!

View of Puerto Arenas from the bridge

I took a few of my books on the cruise in the hopes of gifting the captain with an autographed copy as an incentive to be invited to the bridge. The first thing I did before we even got to our stateroom, was introduce myself to the concierge as a nautical author who will be doing some writing while on board, and might there be a chance for a tour of the bridge?

"No, not very likely. The Captain is big on security and does not generally do tours."

What a disappointment. But not to be deterred, I had to find a way. I sold two books to some newfound friends with the hopes that they would spread the word so I could sell even more books.  I talked up a young ship's officer about a fascinating memoir written by an old seaman, I shamelessly spread small rumours about there being a nautical writer on the ship, and so on.

Much to our surprise, a letter of invitation by the captain was delivered to our cabin on Dec 27 for a private tour the next day at 4 pm.

This would be while we were at the dock in Punta Arenas, Chile.

The chart below shows the landform of Tierra del Fuego with the Argentine Sea on the right, and the Antarctic Sea at the bottom. The thin black vertical line represents the Argentine-Chile border.

The lower squiggly band of blue is the Beagle Channel through which we sailed from east to west. Ushuaia is situated about halfway along the channel. It is the little black dot with three small magenta circles below it. 

Punta Arenas is in the Strait of Magellan where we are berthed, top left of the screen.

the ship's helm

What a surprise to see the ship's helm. The wheel (for steering with the rudder) used to be mounted on the binnacle which included the wet compass. You know, the dial with the compass points—N, E, W, S— and its graduations embossed in fluorescent paint on a disc that floats around in a glass-domed ball in a pool of alcohol.

Look at the tiny wheel that steers this huge ship. Toggles and real small airplane-like yokes are mini wheels, also used to steer the ship. Levers that operate the bow and stern thrusters are middle left with red and green stripes.

the main console

The engine speed levers are middle left too, I think. I'll stop here. I did not want to ask a lot of questions and risk tarnishing my reputation as a seasoned helmsman. (Huh!) We are looking at some very sophisticated technology here. I had the impression that if you are good with video games, you would take to these controls very well.

Officer Fergus working with charts

The bridge is expansive with the best view on board. Who would not want to work in this bright and spacious environment?

Yes, there was Christmas spirit on the bridge too.

map storage

"Do you have a flag for every coastal nation?" I asked the Chief Officer.

"No, only for those countries where we may be sailing to. 

Sorry, Mr. Karlsen, no Norwegian flag because we do not sail in those waters. But we have a Canadian flag."

I gave him two thumbs up for that.

Based on the principle that there is no such thing as a silly question, I asked if there was a sextant on the bridge. After scratching his head the first officer went to a mahogany cubby and pulled out a beautiful lacquered box containing a shiny, never-before-used sextant.

the old Ordinary Seaman
pretending to use the sextant

Now, for readers who do not know what a sextant is, and few will, a sextant is a tool for celestial navigation that is/was used to measure the angle between the horizon and a visible object or two objects at sea. It was invented in the mid-1700s and was used for a couple of centuries. I believe all ship officers today will have learned how to use a sextant, but clearly, the instrument has become obsolete. In the unlikely event of a complete power failure & electronic meltdown, pull out the sextant.

At the end of the wonderful tour given to us by the very professional, respectful, and friendly chief officer from Croatia, I autographed a copy of No Ordinary Seaman: A Memoir and left it behind as a gift for Captain S., also a Croatian. We did not meet. He was a no-show. His loss. I'd have regaled him with old sea stories and invited him to our table.

...ooo0ooo...

next blog post is: Puerto Montt

www.noordinaryseaman.com for more photography and writing 

9. Chilean Fjords

Chilean Fjords

TRIPPING ON THE LIGHT FANTASTIC

On December 28th darkness came early to the  southern Chilean fjords. The M/V Marina departed Punta Arenas at 9 pm under a dramatic sky. Thick blankets of cloud were building overhead, scudding about in the high elevation wind. The weak evening sun became more and more obscured by the gloom above our heads.      

For two days we would be sailing through a weather front that had passengers covered up in warm clothes and rain parkas.

Heavy by the weight of the moisture they carried, the cumulus giants descended  onto the coastal mountaintops, making contact with the sharp peaks of the Andes.  Their billowy softness, punctured and shredded by the hard rock, and supercooled by snow and glaciers, the angry clouds blew a cold wind and rain upon us.

Rays of sun burst through holes in the ragged and torn mantle of storm clouds, and lo, they were  shafts of light for the down-rushing of the Holy Spirit.

For most of the two-day voyage through the fjords  we sailed in and out of channels of calm water, sometimes glassy, even surrealistic.

The water was mostly dark with changing textures and variable tints of green and blue, depending on the light, the fickle winds, and the icy glacial melt that splashed over cliffs and ran down through valleys in icy streams to the shoreline.

I suppose that all of my fellow passengers on this vessel have seen mountains, they are not strangers to myriad forms of geology, hydrology and many other ologies on the planet ... 

from cumulus down to strata cloud

... but have they seen some of these landforms, surely unique to the Chilean coastline? I have not.

The ever-changing light had me moving around like a bobble-head on the dashboard of a car stuck in first gear; the scenery was  floating  by - an interesting challenge for a photographer. With the passage of our ship, angles and light on the subject were constantly shifting.

zoom in for a close look at the windswept trees at the beach

Punta Arenas is at the bottom of map
 End of voyage at Santiago way off the top 

the M/V Caleta Angelmo, Chilean

coastal freighter was going our way

We have seen few other ships on our journey. Small boats service aquaculture up and down the coast.

In these fjords there is little sign of other humanoids, though we have passed quite a few fish farms and some dwellings way off in the distance. 

Along with copper mining and wine making, aquaculture is one of Chile's biggest  industries.  The country claims to be the second largest salmon producer in the world.  Norwegians exported fish farming expertise and technologies to the Chileans, and they have perfected it. I do not know if the fight about wild versus farmed salmon is as big here as it is back home.

Some of our voyage north had us out of the fjords, exposed on our port side to the cold blue depths of the endless Pacific Ocean. 

While we were by no means in a rough sea, some passengers suffered mal de mer.

an LNG tanker, I think

The water seen here is not rough. The images are deceiving from my  POV (point of view) on Deck 9, about 10 metres above the surface of the sea. Indeed, there were big rollers. I think the waves got up to maybe 20 feet from valley to crest.

A cruise ship like the Marina with its stabilizers, and with the Captain's sensitivity to the comfort of his passengers, is not really going to suffer from a little sea. What I call little may be what others call big,  but the Commander slowed the ship down when people started falling. 

There were times when we were completely sober, but walking like drunks; seasick bags had suddenly appeared at various places around the ship; rumour had it that the roll of the ship had tossed a woman out of her bed; some old folks were picked up off the floor; dinner reservations were no longer required for some of the specialty restaurants. (Of course, none of this was a problem for No Ordinary Seaman).



New Year's Eve - our last day in the fjords and the weather did not disappoint.  The wind had been howling, the heavens opened up and unloaded a barrage of rain. I was often out in it (??).

I am all bundled up for warmth, bone dry under my rain parka, jeans wet and glued to my legs, feet sloshing in the shoes; camera (OMD E-M5) sealed for rain showers, just like advertised, and tested well at Evita Peron's burial place: see blog posting #3 Buenos Aires.

Only a few days ago it was so hot on the decks that one was hard-pressed to find a lounge on which to recline in the baking sun. I believe I forgot to mention elsewhere that most of our fellow passengers were threescore  years of age and then some. Why were they roasting themselves to be more wrinkly than they already were?

Me, I like the hot sun, but at sea in the elements with my camera, I was having a BE HERE NOW experience (Ram Dass - 1967). Just soaking it up.

Then the rain stopped. 

The sun burst through from somewhere.

And look what happened!

What a way to end a very good year.

And then there was the New Years party onboard. Dined well with friends at our favourite French restaurant, champagne, drinks, new audience for old jokes ... 

Laughter, love and dancing shoes. Many gays came out of the closet for the ball that night to liven things up. Did I dance with a guy? Who knows. When Jo needed a break I just kept dancing.

Canada legalized marijuana last year. I have been getting a sore back from so much computer time working on this blog, so I thought I would try some medicaments to relax my muscles, to relieve some pain. Seems to be working fine. I wonder if it is affecting my writing?

I have already posted this sunset
but it's too good not to use again

...ooo0ooo...

next blog post is: No Ordinary Seaman On the Bridge

www.noordinaryseaman.com for more photography and writing