The Atacama Desert to Puerto Montt
Chile, that amazingly long South American country, extends in a narrow band 2,700 miles down the Pacific coast of the continent, from 18 to 54 degrees of latitude. Its northern border is the Atacama Desert, the driest place in the world, its southern is Cape Horn, one of the stormiest places in the world. The equivalent in North America would be Acapulco (Mexico) to Sitka (Alaska). Nowhere else on the planet can you sail all the way from the tropics to the sub-arctic without crossing a national border!
Surprisingly, both the cape and the have a strong connection to sailing. Rounding the Horn, of course, is still the ultimate achievement in yachting; while the biggest sailing ships the world has ever seen were built specifically to carry the nitrates mined in the desert around the Horn to Europe. One of them is the Peking, on display in New York City. (More about the history of the nitrate ships, including later in the story.)
In a time when literally thousands of American yachts cruise to Central America and hundreds go on to Polynesia, you might expect a growing number of cruisers would be visiting this European-style country with such a varied coastline. But ironically, it’s only the remote southern tip of the country “at the bottom of the world” between the Straits of Magellan and the Beagle Strait that attracts 20-30 yachts annually, most from Europe.
They sail south for over 6,000 miles, lured by the legendary cape and the remote fjord coast of Patagonia. Some even winter over in Puerto Williams, the most southerly town in the world. From there, they can follow a 1200-mile waterway, similar to our Inland Passage, that winds its way between desolate islands and Andean glaciers north to Puerto Montt.
Whether it is stormy Cape Horn you are interested in, the mysterious statues of Easter Island, or the Juan Fernandez Islands–the setting for Robinson Crusoe–Chile is not an easy place to reach under sail. The southern channels are swept by williwaws that sweep down from the Andean icefields, and the passage around Cape Horn from the Atlantic against the prevailing westerlies is not for the faint of heart.
For sailors on the on the Pacific Ocean, the warm NE tradewinds and ocean current run away from the continent and towards Polynesia. (The legendary voyage of the balsa raft Kon Tiki proved that back in 1947.) It’s possible to sail a long curving course southwest from the Galapagos Islands, turn south to find the westerlies, then turn back to the east, but the “logical route” is probably via New Zealand: a testing 4,000-mile voyage in the Roaring Forties.
Valdivia
Valdivia, on the 40th parallel, at the south end of the mainland, is the best landfall for boats taking either of these routes. It is also the country’s yachting center on the only navigable river in the country, which opens out into an extensive delta. The first wave of immigrants from Germany arrived here In 1851 and brought European ambition and style to the region. Today, Valdivia is a modern city with a cosmopolitan air. The south shore of the river is a beautiful linear park; on the opposite bank is the national university with many fine school buildings and mansions that show a Bavarian style of architecture.
The Valdivia Yacht Club was founded by German expatriates in 1912. It is situated half mile from the center of town, plus an `outstation’ at La Estancilla four miles downstream. Visiting yacht scan moor there for $160 per month. The club organizes regular dinghy regattas
Next door to the yacht club is the Alwoplast boatyard, established 20 years ago by Germans Dagmar and Alex Wopper, after they had cruised around the Pacific. Though far from any traditional yachting centers, this yard has built a reputation for custom in composite catamarans. They built the first sport-fishing motor-sailing catamaran in the world, and their first sailing cat was built in ‘89/’90 and exported to Switzerland. Their output is split between catamaran ferries for use on Chile’s lakes and channels, and yachts–both power and sail.
Alwoplast can also handle almost any yacht repairs in fibreglass, steel or aluminium. It can haul yachts up to 30 tons in a Travelift with 9 meters clearance. They also have a sail loft that is branch of Halsey Lidgard. In the spring of 2007, US multihull designer Chris White paid a visit to inspect the first two hull shells of his new Atlantic 57 design now in limited production.
On the embarcadero there is a colorful daily market where produce and fish are sold. This is also the tourist center where launches depart for tours along the river. One is an authentic early 1900s steamboat with gleaming brass fittings that spends the morning building a head of steam. Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to wait for the pressure to build, so took a more modern diesel-powered tour boat.
We passed the yacht facilities and shipyard on the south bank and then came upon a curious site in the delta, a close-up view of the rooftops and flooded remains of buildings hit by the 1960 earthquake, the strongest ever recorded. This earth movement lowered the bottom of the bay about a yard and flooded low-lying parts of the town. The tsunami it generated ravaged Hilo, Hawaii and Japan. This quake was so much larger than any previously recorded that it provided the impetus to develop the modern science of seismology.
Before our time was up and we turned back, we caught a glimpse of the two historic forts that guard the estuary. So the next day, I rode a mini-van along the north shore to the entrance to the Niebla fort, perched on the cliff top high above the water. Unlike the familiar coastal forts of Washington, these had been the scene of several battles. The first English-speaking captain to sail his ship around the world, Francis Drake, had sailed into the Pacific in 1590 to attack the Chilean coastal ports. He was chased away from one anchorage to another, but forged ahead with his daring plan, captured a galleon loaded with treasure, and returned to England to live the life of a nobleman.
Pirates soon learned that there were easy pickings from Valdivia all the way to Acapulco, if they could survive the transit of the treacherous Straight of Magellan. Soon, privateers and pirates from all the competing European nations swarmed along the coasts. To intercept hostile ships and keep them from reaching Peru, the Spanish built a naval base at Valdivia, with heavily-armed forts on both sides of the entrance.
Before climbing the steps to Niebla, I walked down to the shore, where I found an aging converted lifeboat that was the ferry across the estuary and decided to ride across. It wasn’t exactly re-assuring when the captain insisted everyone don lifejackets before we left the dock! Coming into the Isla Mancera, we passed a solitary Danish cruising yacht anchored out in the bay. Onshore, I walked past the neat rows of stone houses inside the fortifications and bought a large slice of German chocolate cake from a housewife with a table set outside her front door.
The walls of this fort are only 20′ above the high tide mark, a weakness that was easily exploited by Lord Cochrane–the daring British admiral who led the small navy fighting for Chilean independence in the early 1800s. Many Chilean streets and plazas are named after Cochrane, who was the inspiration for the fictitious naval heroes Horatio Hornblower and Jack Aubrey.
That evening as the sun set, I stood on the high gun terrace of the Niebla and was amazed to see dories racing back under sail from the fishing grounds a mile offshore, catching the last of the evening breeze. And below the castle walls, diving skiffs drifted in the kelp field far below. Although they were equipped with motorized compressors, I saw some of these inshore boats being rowed back to shore.
There are no great rivers in Chile and no protected sailing inlets north of Valdivia. Sailing out of the biggest coastal cities like the industrial port of Valparaiso or the beach town of Vina del Mar means heading straight out onto the open Pacific. That was the case for the 1997 Laser World Championships and the 2005 Lightning Worlds at the Club de Yates Higuerillas, just north of Valparaiso. The lone American crew found the daily diet of high winds and steep waves developed a new boat-handling skill to handle the calm in the troughs! Between races, they saw penguins and sea lions swim by, and on rest days had some memorable trips up the hillside of Valparaiso by accencior (cable car) with great views of the city and the wide curved bay.
The best way to escape the heat and crowded beaches of the central cities is to head south to Los Lagos–the Lake District, where boating is far less stressful. Over a distance of 250 miles, there are twelve major lakes, set amidst the foothills of the Andes. The German influence in the farms and towns and hot spring resorts gives the scenery an alpine look. The highest volcanic peak is Villarica, at 9395 ft, overlooking the Lake Villarrica and the yacht club in Pucon, the lakeside town that doubles in population during the southern summer. The mountain is said to be “the most continuously active in the world”–but fortunately the small eruptions with minor lava flows every few years have de-fused any explosive events–at least since the Spanish began keeping records.
The most southerly and largest of the lakes, Llanquihue, is 22 miles wide and 25 miles long with depths to 5,000 feet. On its eastern shore stands another volcanoe–spectacular snow-capped Monte Osorno. Several resorts near the mountain are reached by one of Alwoplast’s catamaran ferries, and from there it’s possible to cross another lake and eventually reach the Argentinian mountain resort of Bariloche. The lake is less than 20 miles from the sea, and the main north-south highway runs along the western shore. The lake is so impressive, that from the bus, I was sure I was looking at the seashore and the Gulf of Ancud!
Puerto Montt-Gateway to the Chilean Channels
Puerto Montt is the port of entry and capital of Chile’s Tenth Region. Its position is similar to Vancouver B.C.–the jumping off point for a remote fjord coast. Once you get beyond here the landscape changes: Chile’s long coastline starts to break up into high ridges, steep inlets, and rocky islands, landforms born of the uplift of the Andes 200 million years ago. The forest that covers it, stretching east to the high peaks of the Andes and south to the icefields of Patagonia, is a primeval ecosystem that combines the look of a pine wood with the verdant gloom and impenetrable profusion of a tropical rainforest.
John Neal is one northwest sailor who took this route in 1995 in his 42′ ketch Mahina Tiare II. (He made an informative video of his passage through the Chilean channels that I consulted.) He made landfall at the 12-mile long Canal Chacao between the biggest island of the Chilean islands and the mainland. It lies on the 42nd parallel, so it’s in the path of the westerlies just like the Straits of Juan de Fuca. There’s a powerful tide there–perhaps making it more like the Columbia River–with a 21-foot range and currents from 6-9 knots, so you’ll need to arrive at slackwater to catch the flood. Two streams collide at the east end of the channel causing rips, whirlpools and eddies.
That landfall is just the first of many similarities between the Pacific Northwest that inspired me to visit what I like to call the “Pacific Southwest.” One of the striking differences is that on the Puñihuíl islands at the north end of Chiloe, Humboldt and Magellan penguins coexist. Despite the familiar green hillsides, you’ll know you’re a long way from home when you gaze up at the rows of brightly-painted houses packing the hillside above the waterfront. It’s easy to feel (almost) at home here. The Chilean people and authorities are proud of their European heritage and make sure they distinguish themselves from their more hot-blooded neighbors to the north. Customs and immigration will be attended to at the marina, but you will be required to visit the navy, known as the “Armada de Chile” to discuss your cruising plans. The Chileans are very sensitive about the borders of their long, thin country, especially in the south, and every vessel transiting the inland waters is required to report by radio to the nearest naval base. It may take up to a week for you to receive your official permission papers.
There is a small charter fleet based in Puerto Montt, but don’t expect any West Marine-type stores. Recent reports mention an excellent alternative energy business in town, but otherwise fishing gear is all you’ll find. You can shop at the open-air market on the waterfront that manages to supply both tropical and temperate fruits. The produce is all excellent–if you get there early! The super mercados have just about everything you will need for long-term supplies, and the bakeries with their German-style cakes will soon have you hooked.
While sailing here is a huge undertaking, every year, more Americans take the long flight south to Santiago, then an equally long bus ride south to Puerto Montt via a luxurious Pullman bus. (Chilean long-distance bus lines are run more like airlines, with reclining seats, cabin attendants and meals provided.) That’s how I arrived, somewhat the worse for wear, so my first impression of Puerto Montt of an untidy harbor town filled with people on the move. Everyone seemed to be passing through, although the crowds of young people who south from Santiago every summer looked in no particular hurry to reach the islands.
From the bustling bus station right on the water’s edge, I wandered up hill past rows of small row houses until I found a boarding house to my liking, dropped my bags, and returned to the waterfront for a closer look. The city has an uninterrupted view south across a bay that was curiously devoid of boat traffic to my eye. I strolled west, past the Chilean Navy base, the northern terminal of the ferry to Puerto Natales in the deep south, and a wood chip loading dock, until I reached the old market section of town. Many of the craft stores displayed an unusual combination of wares: hand-made woolen clothing and cheese, but later, when I traveled to Chiloe, the first and biggest of the islands, I saw that this was a fair reflection of an agricultural lifestyle centered around sheep and cows.
At the west end of the bay, the fish market was housed over the water in a characteristic building style I would come to recognize as the “palafito,” but right then all I wanted to do was find something to eat. The women who run the market eateries all over Latin America are never shy about catching your attention, so I was fair game, and soon had half a dozen stall holders trying to gain my attention. I was easily enticed into a seafood establishment where I was presented with a big oval plate, piled high with food. This is curanto–the signature dish of the south. On the bottom of the pile were two types of potato, one white and one gray. On top of that lots of clams (two types), as well as cholgas and choritos (both mussel-like animals), chicken, sausage, plus some other morsels I may have forgotten. On the side was a bowl of buttery soup to dip things in and some fresh rolls. The cost including a beer was about $5.
Visitors can choose to cruise around the Gulf of Ancud on a charter yacht, paddle a kayak on an organized outing, ride the Navimag ferry south toward Patagonia, or enjoy the superb freshwater fishing and hospitality from a remote lodge on the mainland. Even if you choose a more modest, land-based tour, you’ll never be more than a few miles from the undeveloped shoreline, with no condos or marinas to mar the view.
Ian and Maggy Staples are the English couple who wrote the first cruising guide to the Chilean Channels–published in 1999 by the Royal Cruising Club in London. They are not the first visitors who have fallen in love with southern Chile. They settled there and live on a farm in the Los Lagos district. So if you enjoy cooler weather, fjords and glaciers, and want to get away from it all, this unique and unforgettable coast just might be the last unspoiled cruising ground on the planet.