We finally cast off the dock lines and left Puerto Montt on September 23rd. The big plan is to head south through the fjords of southern Patagonia across the Golfo de Penas, through the Strait of Magellan and Beagle Channel, to Tierra del Fuego and the southernmost city in the world, Ushuaia, Argentina. We have already explored the islands of Chiloé and the fjords close to Puerto Montt so we spent our first couple of days sailing south of these areas to get into to new unexplored territory. Our first objective was to get to the San Rafael Glacier 300nm south of Puerto Montt.

The San Rafael Glacier, or Ventisquero San Rafael, is located in Laguna San Rafael (46 40.403S : 73 54.168W). It is the closest glacier to the equator and the northern most tidewater , meaning flows down to the water at sea level, glacier in the southern hemisphere.


We spent our first two days traveling to Bahía Tictoc (43 37.729S : 72 59.355W). This area was strongly suggested to us by locals as a "must see". It is a beautiful bay with several places to anchor. The bay sits in the shadow of Volcán Corcavado, elevation 9,810 ft. We anchored in the middle of a group of islands that form a small bay that is a wildlife sanctuary for penguins, ducks, cormorants, and dolphins.

In Bahía Tictoc we rendezvoused with S/V Rascal. Captain Dwyer and his guest Jess left Puerto Montt a couple days before us and they were also heading down to the glacier.


Unfortunately since leaving Puerto Montt the sky had been full of low lying clouds which prevented us from getting a good look at Volcán Corcovado; you can just see a glimpse of it. In the foreground is Jess and I kayaking with a couple of dolphins.

We finally had a day with some sun and most importantly no rain, so we decided a beach barbeque was in order. Conditions were calm enough that we dinghied across Bahía Tictoc and up Río Tictoc..... barely. The river shallows to a bar as it dumps into the bay. We had to navigate our way between the swell and breaking waves making sure to stay in the deep water. Once we were safely over the bar, we still had to contend with a very shallow area that was getting shallower by the minute from the outgoing tide. In addition to the falling tide we were contending with a current flowing out of the river that was barely letting us make any headway. Eventually the river opened up and got deeper which allowed us to navigate more easily.

The original plan was to go up the river about 5 miles to a lake. It had taken us a lot longer than we anticipated to navigate up the river, and we were concerned with having the water depth to exit over the bar as we got closer to low tide, so we decided to land our party on a beautiful volcanic black sand beach about a mile up the river.


Steam was rising off the beach as we arrived; if felt like we were on another planet and our footprints were the first to leave a mark in the black volcanic sand.

Dwyer had brought a huge rack of ribs that we slowly cooked on the fire while we all kicked back listening to some great tunes and enjoying some beverages and the surreal surroundings.






Clint collected some wild flowers for me which I used to make a barbeque centerpiece along with some small treasures I had collected.

After a wonderful feast we commenced a dinghy drift back down the river allowing the current to push us. We kicked back and enjoyed some good old rock and roll and passed the vino around.



The following morning we left Bahía Tictoc along with Rascal and continued our way south to Laguna San Rafael.

We got some great shots of Rascal as we blew by...



And Dwyer got some great shots of us also.





Bahía Tictoc is at the southern end of Golfo de Corcovado, a large gulf on the southern end of Chiloé that is open to the Pacific. We had our spinnaker pole ready for when we got across the Gulf and back into the narrower channels. The majority of our sailing down here has been wing on wing (mainsail on one side, genoa on the other) with the wind dead on our stern. The much dreaded spinnaker pole has become our new friend.

We only travel during daylight and anchor each night. In some places we would stay an extra day and explore, but mostly we just kept trucking south. We split up from Rascal after Bahía Tictoc and planned on meeting up again at the glacier. We actually crossed paths with them a couple of times on our way to the glacier. It was always a treat to pull into an anchorage and see Rascal swinging on anchor. It has been a pleasure to share our experiences with him and to hear of his; he is a little more adventuresome than Clint and me.

The most memorable overnight stop for Clint and I was Caleta Esteban (45 18.497S : 73 33.661W). It was by no means the prettiest of our stops, in fact it was the least appealing. It was however a stop that gave us a glimpse into the lives of the people that make this harsh area their home. Caleta Esteban is where we met Ruben. As we entered the small anchorage we noticed a small shack on shore with several dogs running around. Just before sunset we saw a man in a makeshift boat rowing across the bay towards the shack. Once on shore he began shouting at us to come over. He really left us no option so we dropped the dinghy and motored over. As we got to shore we noticed that the makeshift boat he was rowing was in fact a square plastic float that the salmoneras use for their floating docks. Ruben had cut it in half and was using it to transport some wood he had collected from across the bay.

He was very excited to see us as were his five dogs. It was apparent that from his excitement and the dogs' that they hadn't had any company for a while. He introduced himself and each of his dogs. He proudly demonstrated to us how he had taught the dogs to sing and while they all sang, Ruben included, he danced around with one of the dogs. It was most entertaining.

After the introductions and entertainment he gave us a tour of his home. What we thought was a shack on the shore was actually his "woodshop". There were several small wood boats he had salvaged and he was fixing them. They looked to be projects that he had been working on for a while. He had various wood working hand tools and finished lumber that he had obviously cut by hand. He even made a device to steam timbers to bend for ribs in the boats he was repairing. He was extremely proud of his generator that he had built a special shed for. The generator did not work nor did it look like it had in a while but there was still that possibility and he even inquired if Clint was a mechanic.

After the tour of his work area he invited us up to his home. His home left us both speechless. It was the simplest living we have ever seen, not dirty just simple. Describing it will just sound belittling which is not my intent; all I can say is that it was beyond anything you can imagine and it was extremely humbling to see how this man lived. He had one chair and a stool which he offered to Clint and me. In the middle of the room was an ancient stove that he lit so that we would be warm. He offered us maté which we both graciously declined because it is not something either of us really care for, we also felt guilty taking what little he had.

Through conversation, I discovered Ruben had lived at this spot for ten years and in that time had shared his hospitality with several cruisers. He had made a guest book and asked us to sign it. Reading through the comments it was obvious that all the cruisers that passed into Ruben's world were treated with the same hospitality. There were about twelve entries; the one before ours was from over a year ago.

Ruben excitedly shared all the things to be seen in the fjords and he showed us a tourism brochure he had for the area so we could see pictures of all the beautiful things Chile had to offer. As we were leaving he offered us some of his dried salmon and kelp to take back to the boat to have for dinner. Again we declined with gratitude. Our stopover at Ruben's home reinforced to us how gracious and hospitable the Chilean people are. It was a truly unique and humbling experience and a good reminder of why we enjoy cruising off the beaten path.



The two weeks we spent getting south to Laguna San Rafael were an introduction to the good and bad of sailing in the Patagonian fjords. The good being the unique experiences with people like Ruben and the unspoiled beauty; the bad being just how extreme everything is. The wind shifts dramatically, a nice breeze can quickly turn to 30 knots, the rain and fog can mask all the beauty that you know lies beyond, and it is COLD. We have already shared a lot of our growing pains in earlier blog posts and I do not want to belabor the point of how difficult it is but let me just say there were many moments when I thought "what and the hell are we doing out here?"....... And then we arrived at Laguna San Rafael.

Clint described Laguna San Rafael in his October 13th blog post (Click Here) but without pictures it is truly impossible to describe just how beautiful it is. We had seen pictures but nothing could prepare us for the experience.

Like everything else, the approach to the lagoon is not easy. Laguna San Rafael sits at the very end of a long fjord (see picture of the map below). At the end of the fjord there is a large bay, Bahía San Rafael. The bay is connected to the lagoon by a river called Río Témpanos. Before the bay there are two narrow shallow passes, you can see them in the boxes shown on the map .



The passes and the river have to be timed properly with the tides to avoid a five to six knot current. It is also advised that you transit the river with the current behind you so that the small "bergy bits" are not flowing out of the lagoon and into the narrow river as you are trying to enter the lagoon. In case you are wondering what "bergy bits" are, they are pieces of ice that have broken off from larger icebergs that broke away from the glacier. Just as a side note, there are no good tide stations for this area so it is kind of a guessing game. I don't like guessing games....as I said nothing down here is never easy. Of course none of this stuff fazes Clint.....


View off of our stern as we transited the last narrow.

Just as we passed the second of the two narrow sections and entered Bahía San Rafael, the sun emerged and we were treated to a spectacular view. It was the first time the sun had been out since our barbeque in Bahía Tictoc. It was our first glimpse at the snow covered mountains that we had been transiting along for the past two days.....the day was turning out to be spectacular.


We caught our first glimpse of the glacier just as were entering the river.

The river connecting Bahía San Rafael and Laguna San Rafael was a perfect precursor to what lay ahead. It was totally surrounded by trees and heavy growth; it was like being blindfolded for a surprise. We timed the current properly and Clint was disappointed that it was free of any bergy bits. As we were nearing the end of the river our excitement was building; this was what we had worked so hard for the last two weeks.

Just as we were coming to the end of the river I spotted something floating in the distance....



It was no bergy bit, it was a freaking iceberg bigger than our boat!!!!



Not just one iceberg but a lot of icebergs.



And then just as we were exiting the narrow river into the lagoon, we looked to the left and saw the glacier. We looked at each other and said, "holy shit".


The sun was out on the ice and it was glowing electric blue. At over five miles away it still looked huge. The glacier is 2.5 miles wide and extends 230 feet out of the water.







In that one moment all the hardships to get here were forgotten. We were like two little kids on Christmas opening the motherload of all presents.

The lagoon was full of icebergs, some as large as a two story house.





We hung a left and weaved our way through the icebergs to the northeast corner where there is an area to anchor behind a small peninsula. The peninsula and shallow water along the shore keep the larger bergy bits from flowing into the anchorage. As we were approaching the anchorage we could see a mast in the distance; Dwyer and Jess had beat us there.


Karma at anchor in Laguna San Rafael.


From our anchorage we could see Cerro San Valentín (elevation 13,314 ft) the highest mountain south of 37S outside of Antarctica.

After anchoring we dropped the dinghy and set out to explore. I had my bottle of Johnnie Walker in hand and we promptly tied off to a floating berg, chipped off some ice, and had a well deserved scotch on the rocks.



We spent the afternoon dinghying around the bergs and getting a lay of the land. We made a game of guessing what the different icebergs looked like, like you do with clouds. It was like we were floating through an ice sculpture garden. Each iceberg was unique. We could not get enough of them. The thing that is hard to describe is that they have a life of their own, they drift with the wind, change shape as they melt , make strange crackling sounds and occasionally roll over just to keep it real. It was the most spectacular display of nature we had ever seen.





We spotted the Super Highway (Rascal's dinghy) tied off at the park ranger's dock. Although only accessible by boat or small charter plane, Laguna San Rafael is part of the National Parks of Chile and there is a ranger station there. We tied off next to the Super Highway and decided to stretch our legs. As we were hiking up the path we spotted Dwyer and Jess strolling towards us.

It was great to see them again and we quickly got caught up on what they had been up to. They were just returning from a hike up to a look out where you can watch the glacier ice calving from a high vantage point. They had spent the last couple of days playing in the ice and were looking for a spot for Dywer to complete his goal of the trip to Chile.........to ski from his boat !!!!!



In a nut shell, two years ago Dwyer quit his job, bought a boat, learned how to sail, and set off from Washington State for Chile; all to ski from his boat in Patagonia, amazing!!! I strongly encourage you to check out his blog at www.voyageoftherascal.com for the full story, Clint also wrote about Dwyer's quest in October 18th blog post, Click Here, Dwyer is a truly great guy and our experience at Laguna San Rafael is especially memorable because we got to be a part of his dream.


Forget the snorkel, mask, and fins...grab your skis.





Skiing on a glacier.....mission accomplished, Brava!

We spent two days dinghying around the large icebergs and pack ice trying to get Jess and Dwyer to a spot so that they could ski (more at Dwyer's blog, click here to read the whole story). The first day we bailed because the wind had shifted and we wanted to stay close to the boat in case some of the larger icebergs made their way into the anchorage.



So we just puttered around playing with the ice.




I was not overly confident walking on the iceberg; Dwyer was gentleman and gave the old lady a hand.

The second day Clint and I bailed because we were afraid we were going to puncture the dinghy. Dwyer and Jess carried on and picked their way through the ice. He was a man on a mission!



Clint figured that if Dwyer was going to push on we needed at least one working dinghy! We spent the whole day drifting in the dinghy staring at the glacier, cheering when a large piece calved off. It is amazing how many hours that week we spent just watching ice melt.









Not only was the ice all different shapes and sizes but it was also all different colors. The recently broken off ice, that had not been exposed to air, was a brilliant electric blue; the denser older ice was crystal clear.







This is a sequence of photos showing a large piece of ice calving off, just incredible.











At one point when we were staring at the glacier waiting for a big piece to break free, we heard a large rumble from an extremely large iceberg not too far from us. Clint and I both looked in time to see an iceberg the size of a cruise ship break in half and roll over. When it rolled it brought up with it a huge wall of water that washed over the iceberg. It was incredible; we were hooping and hollering.

That evening we moved our sundowners (cocktails) from the cockpit of Karma to an iceberg. We even brought along the American flag so that we could claim it as our territory. It was happy hour in every sense of the word, complete with snacks and tunes. At sunset we stuck to tradition and played our bagpipe version of Amazing Grace and saluted another amazing day.











This should come as no shock, but we have participated in many a happy hour and this by far was the coolest ever.

As if the evening couldn't any better, we went back to Karma and had a dumpling party! Dwyer spent several years in China and he showed us how to make a proper Chinese dumpling. We all got involved: Dwyer made the dough, I rolled out the dumpling skins, Jess filled them, Clint steamed them and we all chowed them down. We even made dessert dumplings filled with peanut butter and dark chocolate. Yum!

Dwyer and Jess left the following morning and Clint and I stuck around to hike to the lookout to watch more ice melting.





It was truly an unbelievable week. It was the most majestic experience I have ever had. Sitting in our dinghy, surrounded by snow capped mountains, staring at a glacier that is thousands of years old that will not be here in a hundred years was just completely humbling. It was not just a visual experience either. The glacier emits a low rumbling and as the ice calves off you here loud cracking and then you see a large splash followed by significant waves that ripple across the whole lagoon causing all the bergs to bob and rumble.

As with all things, are time at Laguna San Rafael came to an end. It was time to carry on and see what other mysteries of nature and adventures awaited us in the fjords farther south.



Laguna San Rafael actually sits less than 9nm, as a crow flies, northeast of the Golfo de Penas but there is no access by water. We had to travel back north and then west, over 100nm, through the fjords to get to Bahía Anna Pink to cross the Golfo de Penas. It took us three days of travel and a couple of days of waiting out strong north winds. We caught up with Rascal again and got to enjoy a couple more days of good company and good food. We had a pizza party one night with us each topping a pizza; our last night together Clint and I were treated to a wonderful Italian feast on Rascal. We bid our "arrivederci's" and they headed back towards Puerto Montt and we continued on to Puerto Millabú (45 44.054S : 74 36.099W), our staging point to cross the Gulf.



Puerto Millabú is one of our favorite anchorages. It is spectacular. The two mile long fjord is surrounded by sheer rock walls thousands of feet high. At the head of the fjord there is a spectacular series of waterfalls tumbling down to a stream surround by a sand beach. Duke was in heaven.



According to our guidebook it is possible to hike up alongside the waterfall to an alpine lake. Our guide book, the most current out there, is over ten years old so we have learned to take a lot of things with a grain of salt; however because most of these areas are not inhabited not much has changed in the last ten years.

Our friends on Angelique II were in Puerto Millabú a couple of months ahead of us and confirmed that it was still possible to hike to the lake. They gave us very detailed directions and even left some trail markers. So on a beautiful sunny day we packed a picnic and set out to find us an alpine lake.



It was a tough hike through dense growth, over fallen trees, up steep inclines, along sheer drop offs, over slippery rock. It was not the cleared path through the woods I imagined. At one point I had a complete melt down when Clint had me shimmying 10 feet up a moss covered rock wall where he instructed me to grab a bush and haul myself over the edge; enough was enough. He talked me down from my hysterics and brought out the safety line he had the foresight to bring (he has done enough hiking with me to know what are the essentials). He tied the line to a tree and I was able to use it to help pull myself up.

After three hours we still had not made it to the alpine lake; according to our friends we should have been there in two. We did however make it above the dense growth and to a beautiful lookout where we enjoyed our picnic lunch and a cold beer, my other hiking essential.

We knew going down was not going to be any easier so we gave up on our quest for the alpine lake. We were bummed we did not find the lake, but with this view we were not disappointed for very long.



The following day the weather turned nasty with a lot of rain so we did not get another chance to find our lake. When the weather did clear it was time for us to head out and cross the gulf. Our last two blog entries have been about this dreaded crossing and there is not much more to be said; it took us a lot longer to get across than we originally thought and it was not pleasant but we made it.

If you read the Clint's previous post (Click Here) you would know we stopped before actually reaching the gulf because we were making no head way. We tucked into a beautiful cove, Caleta Suárez (46 36.80S : 75 27.60W) to wait for conditions to improve. We were there for several days and had an opportunity to explore with the kayaks. We stumbled across the coolest thing, the skeleton of a whale.

From a distance it looked like the ribs of the hull of a boat, and we thought it was an old ship wreck; but as we got closer it became obvious that it was a very large skeleton.





Based on the shape of the jaw we think it was a humpback. It was over 50 feet long and it looked like it had been there a while. We theorized that the whale must have been sick and come up into the fjord and beached itself knowing it was going to die.

Clint and I love to comb the beach for treasures and this was a real find. If it had not been for the bad weather and our need to seek shelter we never would have seen this amazing creature. Everything happens for a reason.

After several days in Caleta Suarez we got a small weather window and decided to take it. On October 30th we dropped the hook south of Golfo de Penas.

Stay tuned for stories of our adventures south of the Golfo de Penas in the "Furious Fifties", I have a different f-word for them but we will keep it clean.