Departing Puerto Montt

We didn't have much time in Puerto Montt after returning to Argentina to find Butch Cassidy's ranch in Argentina. One night's sleep and the next morning our taxi is winding us along the city’s docks in search of our ferry - Navimag’s Esperanza which would steer us and 244 others for four days and 1200 miles through some of the remotest fjords and channels in South America. Next stop would be Puerto Natales, the gateway to southern Patagonia.

We unpacked in a hotel near the dock, stood in line to fill out paperwork and then a van took us to the onto the ferry. We were soon moving ever closer to the tip of the great continent. (See video.)

Once at sea we sailed past a great pedestal of rock sitting in the middle of the Patagonian archipelago – Nihual, it is called. Thousands of parrots nest on this island which is completely uninhabited and there is hardly a single flat surface upon it. It looked as if one of the mittens of Monument Valley had suddenly been plopped in the middle of the Patagonian straits.

Later I took a stroll around the deck. The wind was picking up and we were sailing at 22 mph so you could feel it as I walked to the port side of the ship and headed to the prow. On the right a great cove island emerged, green as Ireland from its shore to its summit. Mist was rising from the cool Pacific, the Humboldt current doing its work. Farther down an even larger mountain loomed, pointing its rocky, crooked finger toward the darkening sky. I walked into the sharp wind at the big prow, all alone. It was exhilarating. Below, the sea crashed against Esperanza’s hull, the mountains look like thunder and gold. The wind howled now and so did I, grinning like a fool, feeling so fortunate to be able to see what I was seeing. I whooped again. It felt so good. It felt like I was five years old.

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