Sunday 6th & Monday 7th, Nov.
I woke up early in the ship-length seating saloon. The long cabin was full of reclining seats and big windows, just comfortable enough to get some light sleep through the night. Up on the viewing deck the skies were overcast and they made the scenery a palette of greys, muted blues and dark greens which would remain with us until the last hours of the voyage. There was three decks: canteen, seating/sleeping and outdoor, much of the journey was spent moving from one to another while waiting for the next meal. When meals did come it was of depressing quality and served up by an equally miserable crew. The passengers however were in high spirits, fuelled by the free coffee introductions and conversations sprung up all day up on the viewing deck, everyone excited to be journeying through this remote archipelago.
Towards the afternoon a shipwreck appeared on the horizon, leaning gently to one side in the middle of the channel. As we approached the wreck the thousands of birds nested there scattered angrily into the sky and the ferry slowed and circled around just metres away. Grass grew on the upward decks and holes dotted the rusted sides, apparently from Chilean navy target practice from a period of tension with Argentina. The other break in the consistent grand scenery was a stop at the remote village of Puerto Eden, an island outpost of a few cabins and municipal buildings, it’s only contact with the rest of the world the weekly ferry dropping supplies and picking up pallets of locally gathered shellfish for trade in the city.
The second day began our approach the Puerto Natales. In the distance we could catch glimpses of overhanging glaciers and the exposed edges of the Southern Patagonian Ice Field, one of the largest bodies of ice outside of the poles. As we neared the southern city we encountered more traffic on the channels, fishing boats, supply ships and a scientific survey barge joined us on our way. As we navigated the final narrows the lay of the land became apparent in the whole; the tail end of the Andes coming from the left descended towards the plains on the right, Puerto Natales sat between the two in the shadow of an imposing wall of rock, no doubt cut by some ancient glacier. In the very distance the famous towers of Torres del Paine could just be distinguished through a gap between closer peaks.
Passengers, cars and bikes poured off the boat onto the concrete ramp and dispersed into the town. I rode a short way from the boat to a campsite in the middle of town and headed out to explore and see about booking myself onto the world-famous trek that had enabled Puerto Natales to grow into a capital of the south so far from anywhere.
Austral Spring 