The journey by ferry was interesting comfortable and relatively easy even for Rusty. So far so good; the arrival in Puerto Natales was a fiasco as they managed to spoil the experience for a ha’pennyworth of tar as the saying goes.
Things changed after we passed Villa Puerto Edén, the sole village along the route with about 100 inhabitants supplied by Esperanza. We were about twenty four hours out of Puerto Natales, our destination and the end definitely was in sight.
Puerto Edén looked desolate to me. One French passenger stared at the little town with a boardwalk and street lights and shook his head. They have not even a road he said and indeed there were no cars trucks or even all terrain vehicles in sight. No boats were active and no humans were visible. Probably sitting indoors drinking he said sadly.
Quite possibly they are happy as clans but this should wilderness lifestyle is far out of my experience I have no idea how one lives in such isolation. But no one is forcing them to it and the scenery is astounding.
The other thing that changes is the absence of trees. The further south we went the more granite we saw.
The big change was the temperature. Getting out of bed Thursday morning for Rusty’s walk around the decks the air was frigid. It was the sort of cold air blown off snowfields and into your face.
Rusty enjoyed being indoors. The crew work five months straight with no days off so they don’t get to see their dogs all summer. So Rusty was inundated with passengers and crew happy to see him. He loved it.
Layne was in her element by day three, socializing and talking with a bunch of solo women travelers. A German woman told me when she goes home she’s going to have her husband build a camper van for her to use on weekends and for time away. She’d never thought of van life but she has now.
The last day dragged a bit for me. Rusty fire hosed the afterdeck and then fire hosed the foredeck so for a while I was kept busy. Then I went back to my book. Kindle offered me an almost free copy of “A Small Town in Germany” by John Le Carré a novel that is pretty much historical in these times when the Cold War is history. I wanted a light quick read on the boat.
Then I’d walk out with my camera and possibly my dog who was sending a changing circumstances and preferred to nap.
When the scenery overwhelms then you play bingo.
This was a publicity photo I saw of Esperanza:
By the time we were thirty miles from Puerto Natales traffic picked up and there were work boats and fishing boats all over the place.
We got an early dinner of pasta primavera as we approached the last bay before the city.
Then we were there and the slow process of tying up began. Our luggage was on deck for foot passengers while our cases were aboard GANNET2.
The ship came alongside and tied to and pulled itself back to the dock where the ramp came down.
And extra lines were walked ashore to secure us in place. We didn’t know it but when we drove off the ship we were going to be required to drive into the customs bonding area across the street where the orange truck was parked. One extra unexpected unnecessary step that drove me nuts.
It was 8pm and Rusty was fascinated by the process. It got less fascinating when I grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and walked backwards down the extremely steep gangway steps. He trusted me and came along faster than I imagined. All my worry for nothing.
Those steps are pretty steep:
There was no one below decks except for is and four truck drivers. There was no activity for releasing the trailers. It was the first time I’ve ever been ready to drive off a ferry and there I was, unable to move.
This went on for 90 minutes. No one showed up. I went on deck and asked what was happening and apparently we were stuck waiting for a new shift to start. Weird.
Then we had to go to the customs yard for what reason I couldn’t fathom. We weren’t coming from abroad. Nevertheless… I got a piece of paper and had to walk it to customs to get it stamped. I swear the bureaucracy in these countries will be the death of them. I was so pissed off I was fit to be tied. We got it done and drive off to park five minutes away. It took two and a half hours to get off the damned ship.
Rusty had enjoyed being ashore and he liked the grass at the campground. The campground owner told me this region of Chile is part of a tax free or tax reduced zone so there is a customs check for vehicles shipping in. Thanks for letting us know ahead of time. South America is like that, you find out as you go and signposts are a rarity.
Done. The ferry ride is over.
I hope all these surfs and pictures over several days have illustrated this unique experience. That’s what it’s like to sail Patagonia. Now it’s time to get back to driving. Till the next ferry in this watery land.
