Chapter Sixteen
Puerto Montt to Ushuaia, Argentina
In Puerto Montt I finally boarded the "Tierra del Fuego",
my van being the only VW placed amongst dozens of container trucks. On board
ship I met several travellers including one of the few remaining British
colonials, Raymond Goodwin, who at forty five was travelling around South
America with a back pack. Raymond was the son of a British colonial tobacco
plantation owner and was educated at a British Public School before he took a
ship out to the colonies of Southern Rhodesia and India where he was taught how
to run the plantations. We became friendly and had some interesting
conversations as we sailed through the scenic fjords of southern Chile, huge icy
glaciers visible in the distance nestled beneath high mountains mostly covered
by misty clouds. The skies became more overcast as we travelled further south,
occasionally raining quite heavily. The winds were fierce and cold, but the
investment in windproof and waterproof gortex clothing proved invaluable here as
we stood on the bridge directly in the path of the Antarctic blast.
At one stage the ship needed to sail out into the rougher waters of the Pacific Ocean for some twelve hours before sailing back into the strait. This was due to an unbroken stretch of mainland that jutted out into the protected passage. Those twelve hours proved to be rather arduous for most of the passengers including myself. Most of us were seasick even in that short period of time! We recovered quite rapidly however when the ship returned to the calmer waters of the Magellan Straits and enabled us to appreciate the effect of a protected stretch of water from brutal storm conditions.
As we rounded Cape Froward, the most southerly tip of
continental South America, the ship turned northwards for a short while before
we arrived at Punta Arenas, a port located on the protected side of the Magellan
Strait. The town had a central plaza with a statue of Ferdinand Magellan in the
centre of it. It was said that if one kissed the foot on this statue good luck
on one's travels was assured! My colonial friend Raymond accompanied me around
the town and as he too was headed in the direction of Tierra del Fuego, I asked
him if he would like to accompany me on my journey for a while. By this time I
had become familiar with one of his habits. Raymond smoked a pipe! His knowledge
of tobacco enabled him to purchase the finest tobacco and on several occasions
during our journey together I could smell the sweet aroma of fine tobacco as he
lit up his pipe. Considering that I was a non-smoker I found this smell that
permeated throughout the van to be enjoyably pleasing and therefore inoffensive.
After a couple of days in this rather uninteresting town we boarded the ferry which crossed the Magellan Strait to the Island of Tierra del Fuego. It wasn't far (only two hours) but again it was enough to make me feel queasy as we crossed in unpleasant conditions, constantly raining and with strong gusts of wind rolling the little ferry furiously. As a result it was a delight to drive the van back onto land again. However, as the dirt roads turned to mud during the continuously falling rain, it remained a challenge to drive all day especially as the windscreen wipers had packed up! Not only that, we also had a puncture! I guess we were fortunate that little other road traffic was about to obstruct us as we slid from one side to the other on this narrow winding muddy road.
I now had an additional problem. There was only one bed and there were now two intrepid travellers! And it was raining outside! As a last resort Raymond could always have slept on the front seat even though its comfort left a lot to be desired! I had survived it for four months some fifteen years earlier when I was picked up hitch-hiking by a British couple who were also travelling in a VW van across North Africa to Morocco.
We decided that towards dusk we would ask at the first hacienda if there could be some sleeping arrangements made for a weary traveller! We came across an old sheep station, 'Estancia Viamonte'. The owners were friendly and not only did one weary traveller get a bed but we could both stay in the gauchos' quarters. The gauchos were preparing mutton for their evening meal and invited us to partake with them. A pleasant evening was had with these men who spend their whole lives looking after the sheep that graze on this huge station. The following morning we again had a feast of lamb chops for breakfast before one of the gauchos took us for a walk along the pebbled seashore of the Atlantic Ocean, where we came across the carcass of a dead whale, its bones still intact.
After more lamb for lunch we set off for Ushuaia, southernmost town in the world. We passed through the magnificent scenery of high mountains, rushing streams and verdant forests which overlooked the Beagle Channel that separates Tierra del Fuego from other less significant islands to the south. We finally arrived at Ushuaia in the early hours of the evening, yet in full daylight!
I felt that I had accomplished, not only a significant achievement in the VW van, having travelled from the north of North America to the south of South America, but as well, I had now visited the northernmost town in the world, Hammerfest, in the north of Norway (accomplished when hitch-hiking through Scandinavia in 1973) as well as having visited the southernmost town in the world, Ushuaia. The town was situated on the Beagle Channel across from which were several more islands including one where the illustrious Cape Horn was located. Out of Ushuaia, the road continued west for some kilometres and ended abruptly at a national park, to where we now drove. This, therefore and at last, signified the ultimate end of the road south. From here there was only one way to go. North!
We camped at the edge of a clear stream and while sitting
around a campfire, I proposed a toast to a great achievement and together with
Raymond, we enjoyed for some more moments the long daylight hours of this
beautiful southern land. Naturally the discussion turned to the long return
trip; which way to go, which places to see and what next lies ahead for intrepid
adventurers?