I headed down to the local high school that was housing hundreds of evacuees from the park. Walking into the middle school that was now a Red Cross evacuation center was a surreal experience and underscored the emergency effort that we were the focus of. Women young and old wearing white synthetic vests with the Red Cross scurried about serving coffee and tea as well as the remains of breakfast for those that were hungry. I walked slowly hoping to find a familiar face and / or English speaker.
A Swiss couple we had met at the park let us know about the ‘list’ that we needed to sign onto. Priority was women with children and the elderly. We were deep down the list. Looking in the gymnasium that served as the dorm reassured me that we right decision to distance ourselves from this.
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| Life at the Red Cross Center |
Outside the Army kept watch as an officer sat in the middle of the road reading names from the list. Those on the list crossed the street after producing the requisite papers only to wait in the wind and occasional rain that came in fits and starts. The mood was, like the weather miserable and desperate. The most important ascertained was that there were no buses moving in and out of the roadblock, making it all a futile effort. The streets deserted on this Sunday morning, so after lingering a little longer I headed back to the hostel happy to leave the uncertainty and panic behind.
Weighing options we decided to amend our trip, omitting the planned diversion into Argentina to see Fitz Roy and Puerto Moreno Glacier and instead sailing on the NaviMag ferry one week early. We went off in search of food, with little being open given that it was both a Sunday and the current situation. “No al alza de gas” (Don’t raise the gas prices) signs – usually handwritten - are present at all shops, restaurants, and hotels although you get the sense that there is a divide between those merchants whose livelihood depends on tourism and those too ignorant to see their community is dependant on tourism to prosper in this little corner of the world.
Back at the empty hotel, we updated the family on the last few days, content in our decision and happy to be far removed from the fear of the day. We were suddenly startled by a knock at the door from the other hotel guest, informing us ‘ALL tourists had to leave between 6pm and 11pm tonight and that they expected the strike to last long after.’ We began to rush to get packed only to pause a moment. What are we doing? We decided to make a scouting trip to the school to find out that the evacuation plan included no buses but rather a 'you can hitchhike, walk to the roadblock, walk across and then 10k to a border where there may or may not be transportation.' We again fled the confusion and emotion to enjoy a good dinner and rest.
Monday was our departure day on the NaviMag. We went down early to confirm our reservation with directions to return at 3pm with our bags and an expected 6pm departure. The streets were again deserted only marked by the occasional car with a black flag – usually made of a garbage bag – whipping in the wind. We found a few shops open although most had their doors shut and lights low not wanting to experience the backlash that other restaurants experienced earlier with rocks breaking through the windows.
We returned to the port at 3pm to find no ship but an assurance that it would land and we would embark. The government of Chile had essentially passed Martial Law, allowing the Army to use force if necessary and to disband any protests or blockades. We killed a little more time dropping into some the shops that seemed to be slowly coming to life. Interestingly, trucks laden with all kinds of fresh fruit and vegetables were popping up at the fruit stands with men working a feverish pace to unload them before someone paid attention.
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| I may be smiling but get me the *#&$ out of here! |
There was no trouble finding a restaurant to eat at. We bumped into Ken, an Aussie on – or in - the same boat as us. Within in minutes we were both being entertained by the prawn fisherman and feeling a lot better about our own predicament. Ken had been trapped in Puerto Natales the last 10 days, not even able to make it to the park to hike and to add insult to injury lost his house in Northeastern Australia to the floods that have ravaged his homeland.
Together we walked down to the pier, now building with peaceful but nevertheless somewhat intimidating protesters while the army provided an armed barricade to the pier and terminal where we would wait. Departure was now pushed to 10pm and patience seemed to be running thin, especially with those Spanish speakers who had a better sense of the situation.
The hours slowly ticked by, 9, 10, 11 o’clock when Ken wandered back in, well lubricated from a final visit to his favorite drinking hole. Entertaining at first, he quickly turned from happy drunk to slurring idiot and as the hour got later, only added to the tension. We all had a go at calming him down but he was having nothing to do with it, only adding to the spectacle unfolding. With the boat now peacefully at the port and steady rain dispersing all but the hard-core protesters the issue became the disembarking passengers who wanted nothing to do with the protest they viewed arriving at the port.
After a few anxious moments we made the long walk to our boat @ 2am. We were fortunate to find our 4-bunk room empty and I fell into an exhausted sleep, momentarily leaving Dee to retrieve our bags that didn’t quite make to our room.
An enormous blast from the ship’s horn jolted us from our sleep in our bunks. Fighting the cobwebs and checking the watch – 8am – the purser announced in Spanish that breakfast was being served. We excitedly got out of bed only to see that we were still in Puerto Natales having not yet left the dock.
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| STILL in P.N.! |
Over breakfast we continued to make fast friends with two couples we met; Emma and Luke from Australia and Jayson and Miriam from Minorca, Spain. The latter two’s fluent Spanish and English was helpful to get the early call on announcements. A collective sigh of relief came when the boat pushed off from the dock as we sipped tea and listened to the inadvertently humourous ship safety video.
As we wound through the narrow channels it evolved into a wonderful morning and we snapped numerous pictures of the plentiful hanging glaciers, stunning mountain peaks, and gorgeous blue waters. It was often difficult to choose what to take a picture of next. The boat itself would be best compared to a BC ferry with plenty of room for cargo and transport on its enormous bottom two decks while the upper half being retrofitted for cabins, bathrooms, dining room, and cozy lounge area. Decks were huge and provided numerous viewpoints and lounge areas. Unfortunately those Patagonia winds even on a bright sunny day limited our outdoor lounge time.
Our good fortune with the weather continued into the evening where – after meeting the Carnival ship Veendam which we dined our last supper beside in Bermuda last June – we had a close encounter with one of Southern Patagonia’s larger Glaciars near sunset. The packed ice shone a bright blue as it pressed into the frigid waters below under lightly gray skies.
Swapping stories that evening, Miriam and Jayson explained the Spanish concept of ‘Domingo-ing’ where by after a late Saturday night, the greater part of Sunday is spent eating and in various stages of unconsciousness. Whereas our siesta is usually a 2 hour sleep midday, followed by being wide-awake at night, they remain semi-conscious after a 20-30 minute nap usually drifting in and out under the guise of watching a movie. They relayed that the BBC actually prepared a documentary on the phenomenon which we must find for reference.
Luke and Emma, like us are enjoying a multiple month retirement from their work as Engineers at a copper mine in Australia. Newly engaged, they shared interesting stories of life ‘underground’, fascinating stories about the Australia’s booming mining sector.
As our weather turned a little grey we found ourselves enjoying our cozy cabin a little more during the days. The boat’s crew worked hard to keep us entertained, providing daily information sessions in the morning and afternoon on the region including overly enthusiastic description of the area’s flora and fauna. We practiced our 'Domingo-ing' well for a lazy afternoon.
The close of day two would see our route peek out from the relative safety of the mountains and ice to cross into the great Pacific Ocean. The crew warned well in advance to take precautions including tidying up the room and taking some gravol to help with the rolling.
We went out after dinner for some fresh air and to watch the from bridge while the boat plunged in to the 4 meter swells. The captain commented it would be a calm crossing, maybe only a meter or two higher! The sea looked vast and intimidating as the light faded.
Both of us heeded the warning and found that the drugs and a full dinner kept everything in order. The only misadventure was my spill off my chair whilst watching a movie late in the evening. It was a surreal experience to feel yourself floating off before tumbling onto the floor in a head along with the table I desperately lunged for. Unhurt and minorly embarrassed I firmly planted my feet on the floor for the remainder of the film.
Our final full day saw most planning the next stage of their trip. For many like us, the boat was a way out of the south and they had no intention of visiting the Chilean Lake district. We compared plans with others and sought advice of our Spanish friends before agreeing on a 3 day bike trip followed by a couple of multiple day hikes.
The ships crew pulled out all the stops with the final dinner and evening entertainment. Fresh fish and some colorful veggies greeted us at dinner topped off with bananas – where had they been hiding them! – no doubt to encourage some generous tipping with our departure tomorrow.
We were entertained with a bizarre cross of bingo meets Disco Fever in the lounge on our last night. Winning players got a prize only after a uncomfortably long solo dance in front of 50 or 60 bingo playing on-lookers all under the watchful eye of the ship entertainment coordinator. We enjoyed the last of our wine and the company of Luke, Emma, Jayson, and Mir. It was a great escape!
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