Next was two days of cruising the rest of the Chilean Fjords, but we got off to a rough start. Very rough. The wind was too strong to turn into the fjords on the original course so we headed out to sea, into the wind, hoping for a break so we could turn in. The break came about one o'clock in the afternoon, but not without some warnings...Captain Ubaldo warned us that we were going to make a long, slow left turn which would put us broadside to the wind. These ships can list pretty good in cases like this. The ship becomes a great big sail.
We noticed that crew members (trained in first aid, no doubt) were dispatched into the lounges, just in case. We lucked out...oh, sorry, due to the skill of the Captain, that is...we made the turn slicker'n snot and headed back toward the coast.
The Chilean Fjords, especially the Fallos Canal and Amalia, are unusual. Somehow, we just weren't expecting to see all the snow. But then again, we're practically in Antarctica. The fjords run from Cape Horn in the south to the Reloncavi Estuary in the north. Some are essential to providing access to remote ports. All these waters are considered internal to Chile, but the country allows free use of the main waterways.
The Smyth Channel is a principal Patagonia channel. On the south branch, there are a number of lighthouses, buoys, and beacons as a pilotage aid. Also, there are special instructions for navigation. Some of this is as a result of the Santa Leonor Wreck. She ran aground in 1968, and the story is that as they navigated the area, the Captain, at one point, said "alright". Interpreted by the helm as "all right", they made a sharp turn and the rest was history. All aboard were rescued, by the way. And now captains say "starboard".
Made it through the fjords and docked in Punta Arenas. We jumped on the shuttle bus and rode into town. We took a picture of Magellan and rode back out of town.
There's a reason that Magellan's looking back out to sea. He, too, saw no reason to hang around in town.
Most people have heard of Ushuaia, the southernmost city in Argentina, if not "the end of the world". That's another 150 or 200 clicks south. The town was merely a tiny place with about 800 residents in 1930 when a German cruise ship carrying 2000 people wrecked nearby. The townspeople had only one small hotel, so they put all those people up in their homes until they could be evacuated. It was then that they knew they had a future in tourism.
The "resorty" city (they're happy to tell you that this is a city, not a town) reminded us of Funchal, but much colder. We took a catamaran trip along the Beagle Channel to the penguin rookery. No chicks yet, the females were just arriving this time of year, but plenty of Magellanic, Gentoo, and King Penguins.
We saw a pretty impressive sea lion colony along the way, too.
A day at sea brought us to Port Stanley, Falkland Islands. And as quick as we arrived, we were gone. Gordon had heard from one guy that he'd had the Falklands on five itineraries and only got there once, such is the wind and sea current situation. So we, personally, are now zero for one. A disappointment, too, since we had a tour that would have taken us up really close to the penguins...close enough for them to peck at us. Captain Ubaldo made the announcement a little after seven a.m., and we could tell from his tone that Cappy weren't happy.
So, now we faced three days at sea before arriving in Uruguay. There's a reason to stop in Uruguay before returning to Argentina. Due to continuing hard feelings about the Falklands conflict in the 80's, Argentina is ghosting them. One cannot sail from the islands direct to Argentina.
