12/14/05
ANCUD, CHILE

After Torres del Paine, taking my boots off felt like peeling an especially tricky orange. From Puerto Natales I tottered onto the ferry Magallanes for a four-night, three-day trip north to Puerto Montt. A glance at a map shows the appeal here-- the Chilean coastline is lacy with fjords and islands. Wet weather socked in early, though. The sea and the hilly shapes blurred together. Determined to get my money´s worth, I stood on the deck, leaned into the rain, and caught a cold. Or maybe the cold came from camping with two other guys and only one spoon. Either way, I got a lot of sleep. In the open ocean, where the boat was rolling in broadside waves, mealtimes looked like silent comedies; people weaving around rubber-legged, silverware skating off their trays. The crew showed movies, tried their best, but at times it felt like being trapped in a cafeteria.

The weather broke on day three. Everyone went topside and gratefully turned pink in the sun. The coast is beautiful. We saw the continent´s biggest glacier, rainbows, waterfalls, a creaky little fishing village, and seabirds skimming inches above the water.

We disembarked early morning in Puerto Montt, and I caught a bus to Ancud, on the island of Chiloé. Chiloé has houses on stilts, barn-like churches, rolling pastureland, and folklore about sea monsters. Ancud sounds like dogs barking.