Day 6 -- Puerto Chacabuco

First light saw us cruising up a narrow fjord, deep into Chilean Patagonia.  Ahead snow-capped Andes could be seen, while a scattering of snow also covered the nearby mountains that hemmed in the narrow waterways.  Our captain would have needed more than Google Maps to guide him through the maze of waterways that slice into this mountainous country from the Pacific.  Heavily timbered, the area has an unspoiled beauty.  No sign of human activity until we reached the head of the Aisen Fjord and anchored at the village of Chacabuco.

This entire area of northern Patagonia was only opened up to roads in the 1970's when Pinochet built the Highway 7 to link the Andean towns as far as Puntas Arenas.  In winter many of the small districts are isolated except for lengthy ferry transport.  Chacabuco developed as an important port in the 1990's after a volcanic eruption in the area and disastrous forest fires required alternative access.  Today it is just a village where roll-on roll-off ships nose into the shore to unload their trucks carrying everything from gas and diesel to containers of general cargo, and then to take onboard refrigerated containers of local salmon for export.

Mini-market in Chacabuco

I passed on the expensive shore excursions today to see waterfalls and go kayaking and pretend to be Chilean Cowboys and settled for a later trip ashore and a walk around.  It took me all of 40 mintes to see all there is to see!  The local ladies have a pop-up dome near the town square to sell their handicrafts:  some of them stand behind their trestles crocheting furiously so as to convince us that all the good on display are hand made by them.  The house all appear to be prefab, probably shipped in and erected to provide a home for the workers at the local salmon factory.  Just behind the village there is a large freshwater lake which is home to the salmon industry.  There is a small naval base, one hotel of sorts, a couple of mini markets, one petrol station, a first-aid station and an elementary school.  Life here would be very isolated except for the satellite dishes everywhere.  In winter you would need to be a hardy soul to stick it out.

A lot of the crew got shore leave today, so it was a chance to catch sight of and chat with some of the "hidden" crew -- the (mainly) men in overalls who do the grunt work out of sight:  laundry, stores, painters, carpenters, electricians, kitchen hands, mechanics etc.  As one would expect many of them are very tough looking characters doing long hours of manual work: but they are invariably polite and friendly.

On board one can't help but notice the characteristics of fellow passengers.  There are a number who affect a certain character or type:  one poses constantly as a Barry Humphries of Graham Greene's Our Man in Havana.  Another wears a beret, carries a cane and wanders about like some 19th century artist.  There are a couple of raging queens, complete with limp hand flapping.  A couple of the women appear as rich dowagers (and maybe they are!).  And of course, there is the constant chatter (I can only overhear and understand the English, so mainly USA) about how this cruise compares with the countless others they spend there life on.  And yes, many women do keep travel diaries:  you can see them in the bars busily writing up the day's adventures.  Who am I to talk, as I blog away!

Lots of music on board at all hours of day and night.  Yesterday and today I have enjoyed sitting in the Atrium Bar listening to the Amber Strings (three young artists on violin, viola and cello) playing classical extracts.  There are pianists, pop groups and classical singers too.  One can easily avoid the casino and shopping arcade in favour of a drink and a musical interlude.  Who said it was Lent?  Am also learning some of the tricks of this ship.  Stepping out of cabin or lift can be quiet disorienting.  Just look at the carpet:  the fish are always swimming forward, so easy to work out which way is forward or aft. Similar tricks to discover which deck you are on etc.

Yesterday I couldn't help but notice in Puerto Montt that most of the commerce seems to be carried out on the sidewalks rtaher than in the shops.  All along the main streets locals take over the footpaths to lay out their little square of plastic and cover it with goods for sale:  everyting from fruit and vegetables to clothing to jewellery to gadgets to household goods etc.  I suspect the stores must have to do some fierce discounting to compete with the hawkers outside.  Lonely Planet warns that when a cruise ship docks, UP go the market prices immediately!  But on the tender back to ship it is noticeable just how many are carrying large parcels of purchases which clog up the scanners as we try to get back on board.  

We are sailing out of the fjord in daylight (it is 6pm as I type-- and sunset is at 8.45pm).  The sun has finally come out, and the view is spectacular, and I spend a few minutes at a time on the balcony to enjoy it.  Too cold to stay out much longer.  The next 2 days are on ship as we cruise the Patagonic Channels and Straits of Magellan, so plenty of time to enjoy more music and catch up on reading.

(Later)  Dinner in the buffet tonight was Mexican themed - tasty and spicey.  I then went to the 7.30pm show in the Starlight Theatre:  sat in the tiered balcony and had a great view.  Tonight's show was by Albert Sanchez (from Brooklyn NY)-- A Tribute to Three Great Tenors.  He sang hits from Placido Domingo, Mario Lanza and Pavarotti.  Too loud!  Both the 6 piece orchestra and singer were amplified to near scream level -- and the tenor, who does have a wonderful voice, couldn't  maintain the original rhythms of the arias but had to mess them up with his own syncapation. The finale blasted us out of the theatre:  Nesun Dorme. 

Today's photos are a mixed bag.  See them here.