A Pretty Glacier

A friend of ours recently mentioned in an email "Nobody sails Patagonia for the weather".

Following our relatively benign week in Ultima Esperanza - only one dragged anchor - we have only been able to travel north on one day out of two. The "rest" days have been forced on us by strong north winds raising waves in the channels against which we cannot make any progress.

Our friends remaining in Puerto Natales have fared worse. For about a week now, that port has been closed to any movement of small vessels (like ours or the many fishing boats). On some of those days, the fierce winds have caused the port to be closed even to large freighters and ferries.

Sometimes the weather, rather than forcing us to stay in a place, forces us to leave it. This has happened in Natales, Eden and the anchorage immediately after Natales. It's like the ice forcing our decisions during the Northwest Passage.

Most of the places we choose to stop are very sheltered and secure against any weather. Oddly, the inhabited places are often an exception to this. The bay in front of the small community of Puerto Eden is sheltered from north winds but open to the south. Thus, after a day of sheltering there from strong north winds - and enjoying the unusual availability of internet - I felt the need to leave because of forecast strong SOUTH winds.

Progress against the dying north winds was painful in the final open stretch before a well sheltered cove, Caleta Yvonne, at the junction of Fiordo Iceberg and Canal Messier, the route north. Nonetheless, Caleta Yvonne where we stopped a couple of days ago presented the possibility of a bit of sightseeing.

Eighty miles north of Caleta Yvonne is Golfo de Penas - the Gulf of Sorrows. This represents a difficult 175 mile passage in the open Pacific exposed to all the weather the Southern Ocean can muster to torment a sailor. At this point, we have been looking at long range forecasts for several days to find the most benign period in which to tackle the crossing. Establishing that December 1 would be a good day to set out left us with a few idle days.

Following an engine oil change in the Caleta during one of those spare days, the weather perked up and the sun came out for the first time in a week and a half. At the eastern end of Fiordo Iceberg, three hours travel from our anchorage, lies a beautiful glacier. The winds were still blowing quite strongly but that would aid our trip to the glacier - and the winds were forecast to die away enough so as not to impede the return.

We hurriedly disconnected ourselves from the shore, got the dinghy aboard and hoped the sunshine would last. It did! At one point along the route Mary Anne counted fourteen waterfalls in sight at one time coursing down the valley walls. And the reward at the end of the fjord was a perfect glacier of such an impossible shrieking blue color that it seemed someone must have dumped a tanker load of blue die onto its surface.*

Now we wait again for better weather to move along. Caleta Ideal, our last anchorage before crossing Golfo de Penas, is only forty-five miles north of us. November 29 should see us there.

* The one lo-res picture we are able to send by short-wave radio does not do justice to the place; we'll replace it when we have internet access in three or four weeks.


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At 2017-11-28 00:27 (utc) our position was 48°20.31'S 074°33.49'W

Puerto Eden 2007 and 2017

Shell midden - Puerto Eden 2009

When we were here in 2007 & 2009, the major fishing industry - the shellfish industry - was bustling ... there was a huge 'midden' next to the boardwalk which encircles the town. Only a shadow of it is left, and the shellfish are again proliferating in their natural environment. We donated some books to the school library and bought some handicrafts from the local Alcaluf native group whose land this is.
The familiar story to all of us (and particularly to North and South Americans) of land "grabs" and diseases brought by the European colonizers are also -sadly - familiar here. In the south the Chono, Alacaluf, and Yámana Indians occupied the whole Chilean archipelago southward to Cape Horn. Now only a fragment of those people remain - mostly here in Puerto Eden.
 We were advised by French cruisers Isabelle and Ariel on 'Skol' that all cruisers who come here should ask for permission to anchor from the Alcaluf community. As we're only staying a short time, we complied only with the Armada regulations and those governed by international maritime law. Ariel and Isabelle are giving back as much as they can to the community here - teaching French cookery, taking kids on sailing trips and - in return -  learning to weave baskets.

Where the shellfish are in 2017

In 2007 we got to know some of the residents. Louisa was running a wood-fired Pizza Place out of her little house. Her husband Miguel, an engineer, was constructing a new dock in the town centre. They're gone now and the town has seemed really diminished with few children running up to us, fishing from the dock and racing around with their dogs.

But this town is just waiting to TAKE OFF! A civil works project to finish rejuvenating all the old houses in the town is giving employment to some of the local Alcaluf population. A new ferry terminal has been built, and ferry service has been doubled with a new ferry running to Tortel and Puerto Natales providing connections to busses and airlines. For 'Cruisers'there's  a new Boat Haulout in Natales so you can get boats repaired and the hulls repainted. Keri-Lee Pashuk and Greg Landreth have relocated their business here and bought a house which will act as a scientific research center with lodging and trips. They hope to include dive trips. To read about their current scientific work in monitoring the deaths of the many whales lost along this coastline look up www.patagoniaprojects.org/.

Aboard Traversay III: Louisa, Miguel & family with Louisa's sister 

The fishermen here have had to re-adjust to  a complete abandonment of the shellfish industry because of the Red Tide threat and they've taken up capturing Centolla (the lithodes santolla crab). These are hand-packed, frozen and most are flown directly to Europe and the U.S. Other companies offer the meat re-packaged. SeaTech's ad reads as follows:

A Beautiful Delicious Crab MeatOur Chilean King Crab Meat (Lithodes Antarcticus / Santolla) is packed from crab caught in ice cold pure ocean waters off the coast of southern Chile. The brilliant bright red and pure white colors of the meat, its naturally sweet briny succulent flavor, and wonderful texture is an epicurean delight. Chilean King Crab Meat is packed with merus meat layered over, claw meat, broken leg meat and large whole pieces of shoulder meat in our one pound vacuum packed tray. Our pack is single frozen which maintains the top quality of fresh picked meat. For additional information download our spec sheet, send us an email or give us a call.

Larry's photo of: Lithodes Santolla

A Mystery

ascidia paratropa - Glassy

When you have dived in Northern Europe and on the West Coast of North America, you more or less expect to encounter similar species, and even for amateurs like us we are not surprised that Alaska’s Giant King Crabs are roaming westwards, pulverizing less aggressive species and taking over in Russia and Norway. These animals share familiar habitats and it’s not surprising that Northern climates feature very similar species – especially those that move around. BUT – when you encounter a glassy tunicate (pictured) you have to wonder: “How did it get here?”

How did it make it through the equator? How did it make it through the torrid waters that stretch so far on either side of the equator? We certainly didn’t see any Glassies in Australia’s Coral Sea or even in the temperate waters of New Zealand.

 In our last dive at Caleta Damien, we saw not just a glassy tunicate (or ascidia paratropa) but another ascidian or tunicate called halocyntia aurantium or Sea Peach. They’re both quite amazing – the Glassy looking just like something that could be a distorted but lovely water glass – and the Peach quite the opposite – gnarled and mis-shapen like a plastic Halloween face that has first had ears and nose pulled out of place and then been left forgotten in an oven to partially melt. Both of these animals do not have the ability to move. So how did they get here?

David Behrens gives us a clue about all invertebrates when describing the dispersal of certain nudibranchs (- his specialty-) “the overwhelming majority have been distributed by natural means”. Some species of animals have a much greater tolerance for variety of temperatures and of prey animals. They can flourish while other similar creatures are excluded. “Phenomena such as El Nino events (when the ocean experiences a drastic increase in temperature) can provide … distribution of the species.”

Sometimes, it IS our influence that brings new animals from across the equatorial divide. The prey of some species can be organisms fouling the bottom of a boat, or in the bilge water of ocean-going vessels.   If the animal being brought into new water can survive, find appropriate prey and reproduce, it will have found a new home. Some are unwanted, so every country has strict regulations to reduce any impact a vessel like ours can have on their territorial waters. Neither the Glassy nor the Sea Peach are shown in the ‘Benthic Fauna of Chilean Patagonia’ but no doubt they find the climate, water and food here as agreeable as the waters across the equator and up North.

REFINEMENTS of the Tunicate/Ascidian family:

Eating and excreting with the same orifice? UGH! The glassy tunicate and its family are quite remarkable. They’re a more complex form of life because they have TWO orifices - unlike the anemone and most other marine invertebrates which have only the one. This earns it a higher number (16) in our Linnaeus-based numbering system as compared to the anemone (3.2) Andy Lamb explains:  “Each solitary tunicate has two siphons: an in-current one that brings in the food-laden water and an ex-current one that expels the filtered product.”

halocyntia aurantium - Sea Peach

Sex: Andy continues: “Nearly all tunicates are hermaphroditic, meaning that each adult specimen has both male and female organs. However, the Peach avoids the disadvantage of self-fertilization by releasing the eggs and sperm at different times.”

Northbound!

Our last night in Puerto Natales was quite delightful. We had moved from our "secure" anchorage at Puerto Consuelo into town - or a mere half mile from town by dinghy - mindful of a good forecast for the night and the anticipation of a shared restaurant dinner with Martin and Patty of "Otra Vida", Mark and Rosie of "Merkava" and Greg of "Saoirse". Then we really wanted to get out of town as 1) the calendar was continuing its relentless progress and 2) the forecasts promised a lot of trouble with forced relocations and dragging anchors if we stayed.

Our departure the next morning was on a typically difficult Patagonian day with extra strong headwinds delaying us at a tidal pass and nearly preventing our getting through - a six hour delay; not a disaster. Our very safe planned destination for day one turned out to be too difficult to enter under the prevailing conditions so on we went for four more interminable hours to a spot we would have to leave if the wind shifted. It did! So we left!

A few days later, we find ourselves in Caleta Damien on Isla Whidbey. In conventional terms, we have made abysmal progress to date but the weather here only presents a decent day to the northbound small-boat sailor on one day in three.

This spot is a bit open to the southwest winds blowing at times at thirty knots but the waves are not traveling far and have no force to them. I know the anchor holding us off the beach is well dug into the gravelly sand fifteen meters down because I looked at it earlier today on an otherwise uninspiring dive. Four ropes to the most lively-looking trees I could easily reach from the shore add to our feeling of near-security. Our main concern is, of course, the strong gusty winds. The snow and five millimeter hail (on different occasions) earlier today are more in the way of entertainment.

We will get going again tomorrow or, more likely, the day after. The strongest squally winds have a way of flipping the dinghy and dumping the precious oars in the water while we are winching it aboard after using it to untie the shore lines. If you have seen small boat sailors towing a dinghy in your home waters, that is not good practice here as the fierce winds soon turn it into a kite and/or find some other way of depriving you of its further use. So we wait for weather at least good enough to safely get going.

All this aggravation, I must mention, is taking place while we are surrounded by unparalleled beauty.

Enough complaining ...

Mary Anne is playing Debussy on the piano, filling the boat with sound and beauty. I think I'd rather listen than write more.


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At 2017-11-18 17:52 (utc) our position was 51°18.47'S 074°08.75'W

Hits and Misses

tritonia odhneri in 2007

errina antarctica 2017

It’s with a feeling of relief that I’ve been able to remove a glaring and prominently placed mistake in one of my previous Blogs. I was feeling quite happy with my blog-writing ability, having a bit of a swagger about being able to bring some of the underwater creatures to ‘life’ for some folks who have never encountered them before.

I’ve now removed that source of embarrassment. No need to say more (particularly if you hadn’t noticed it!)

The ability to make huge errors is never really vanquished. Particularly in a Blog … we rarely have more than an hour to write these. And we both check them over – but we rarely seem to catch the big errors when we proofread each other’s blogs. Possibly Larry has an exaggerated idea of my writing ability because he sees me reading and reading …

errina antarctica fan coral 2007

I’m also very much aware that without a ‘real’ biologist’s skills and tools for dissecting and closely examining the animals, I can very easily be wrong in the identifications and information I give here. Also – with new discoveries in research, my ageing books and information may now be out of date. Even with Larry’s help in checking the data, there’s a huge margin for error.

The temptation to assign a cause for missing animals we saw 10 years ago would be very wrong. For one thing, we are not experienced specialized divers so we may just not have seen what was plainly there to be seen. In fact, I was brought to an awareness of my own deficiencies as a diver when I read David Behrens statement in ‘Pacific Coast Nudibranchs’ that “on a single dive, the inexperienced observer should be able to find 6 to 12 species of opistobranchs without too much difficulty”.

sunflower star - in British Columbia 2014

We rarely find more than 2 species. Also - the fact that we missed seeing any of the spectacular orange tritonia odhneri nudibranchs could be because 9 years ago we saw them in the middle of summer (January 6, 2009) and it’s still too early in spring. Or that their primary food source (the octocoral fan errina antarctica) didn’t seem as flourishing as on our previous trip.

latruncullia ciruela a new type?

Behrens shows several other reasons for our disappointment. One is as follows: “Many species have been observed to come and go from local habitats, disappearing for years at a time where it was once abundant, and then reappearing once again … biogeography is one of the most speculative aspects of the biology of organisms.” So the fact that we didn’t observe the the orange nudibranch may just be one of environmental fluctuation rather than loss. Similarly, one hopes that the same reason can be attributed to the losses of beautiful sunflower stars (pycnopodia helianthoides) in British Columbia and Washington.

latruncullia ciruela sponge

Some of the wonders of the trip have been that - with the help of the ‘Benthic Fauna’ book - we’ve seen some new animals and been able to properly identify some whose picture we took 8 or 9 years ago and could not identify earlier.

Newly identified for us: latruncullia ciruela.

More Puerto Natales

The Scene from day to day near Puerto Natales is so striking that we can't help but share some of the images.
The emu like flightless bird is a darwin's rhea or lesser rhea.  He seemed quite large enough so we had trouble imagining the larger greater rhea.

Guanacos, the wild relatives of the llama are everywhere in the wild in large numbers.
We are anchored off a historic estancia (ranch) about 20 kilometers by road out of Puerto Natales.  Cowboys ride along the road herding their cattle in a most picturesque manner against the mountain background.

The estancia itself is always pretty with the everchanging light and cloud. Where we land from the boat, there are always horses wandering about.

A Day Complete

… complete with Heaven and Hell. Yesterday we took Highway 9 North to visit the famously beautiful Parque Torres del Paine. We were fortunate to start out around 0730 with the most peaceful and sunny day possible. Every 'local' we met during the day told us how lucky we were to be here: "such beautiful weather - NO WIND!" Every viewpoint from which Larry took a photo - familiar from the many tourist advertisements of the area - contained a glass encased little hut from which you could snap your picture without danger of being swept away by strong winds. Of course, he took these photos unimpeded by an enclosure.

My only problem with our day as tourists was the fact that I was driving. Apart from the main highway #9, travel was mostly on very poor and narrow roads composed of gravel alternated with tarmac. This pavement was made more interesting by large potholes. On these roads, we met few vehicles like ours. Alas - we'd followed our usual plan and I had sought the smallest and cheapest vehicle I could rent. The helpful people there DID warn me that many folks had accidents on the roads around here. Perhaps I should have taken heed at that point, and noticed that my little car was already covered in dust. Everyone who passed us - that is everyone going in the same direction - roared by in big 'Expedition' vehicles. Luckily, I grew up when Alberta's farms were mostly serviced by gravel roads. I'd learned to drive out on Uncle George Penner's farm. The advantage of gravel roads was that we could always tell when someone was coming to visit us because the cloud of dust announcing an arriving vehicle could be seen for miles across the flat countryside.

So now I knew when a car was coming towards me or coming up from behind. Most of the roads here are 1 or 1 ½ lanes. I could find a bit of wider road and pull over a little as the tour busses or large expedition vehicles cruised by. Of course, we'd have to close our windows (it was warm out) to wait for the dust to settle while I proceeded along slowly and in 2nd gear. In the low areas of road, the surface resembled corduroy. Being shaken to bits seemed a possibility. By my second driving day, we'd already had to take the car back to the Rental Agency because of a nearly flat tire. They seemed very accustomed to the problem and sent out an employee with a portable inflator. But it now seems flat once again.

After 9 hours of driving, we were ready to relax when we got back to the boat in the dinghy. We had just eaten a meal of wraps and had a drink when Larry warned that the winds were building up. About 1 minute afterwards, our anchor alarm blared and we both rushed out to find we were rapidly moving into the shallower water. The dinghy was bouncing around on its leash and there was no way of getting down to ease its troubles. Luckily we'd taken our usual precautions and secured it with double lines including a steel cable - but a constant worry was that it could turn over, fill with water, lose the oars or flood and ruin the engine (it didn't). I rushed out to lift the anchor (my job) but it came up with a meter-wide ball of tangled weeds and mud attached. Of course, without being grounded, the strong winds (35-40 knots) were blowing against the hull and driving us even faster into shallow waters and it was pure luck that we hadn't already 'grounded' and stuck. Larry got us into somewhat deeper water and came forward to finish dealing with the messy anchor, and I went back to steer - driving back and forth under his directions for the best course and the deepest water within a very narrow possible range. This would continue - until (1) he could get the muck off the anchor and it would be able to 'dig in' (2) we could find a deep enough spot to hold the boat with secure depth all around so that it couldn't start moving again and (3) it calmed just enough for the anchor to sink through the weeds into the mud below before the wind yanked it free.

The water is not much deeper in any direction and this is a far from an ideal anchorage, but there are few anchorages here and it's the one the Armada (Navy) directed us to.

Luckily our emergency only lasted for about 2 hours. Today, I'm having a 'rest' and editing photos while taking the antibiotics I got from the dentist on Tuesday. I have a problematic molar. Poor Larry is spending the day fixing the water-maker. Luckily, he thought ahead and has all the tools (including an impact wrench) that he needs.


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At 1899-12-30 00:00 (utc) our position was 51°36.54'S 072°39.59'W