For most tourists coming to Chile, the southbound trip to Patagonia ends at Punta Arenas or Puerto Natales, with a trek to the Torres Del Paine. But Patagonia stretches on, further south, to the regions of Chilean Antarctica, Cabo de Hornos, and Tierra Del Fuego.
Population is extremely sparse here and roads almost absent. In some parts, the topography resembles one of those exoplanets at the very edge of our solar system - rocky and icy - shaped by the massive glaciers of the Pleistocene ice age. The coastline becomes rugged and the massive archipelagic outline of this area looks like that of shattered ceramic on the floor.
Puerto Williams, a town lying 2 degrees further down south of Punta Arenas, is located on the island of Isla Navariono, across the Beagle channel to the Tierra Del Fuego. The town is a result of Chile's settlement efforts to pip the much bigger city of Ushuaia, barely a kilometre north, to become the southernmost town in the world. The town is remote and has small airport with weekday flights, in a small twin otter plane, to Punta Arenas.
But there's another way. A 32 hour ferry, leaving from Punta Arenas, through the historic Strait of Magallen and then the Beagle Channel, sailing through some of the roughest terrains on the planet. Shut up and take my money!
Why am I writing this?
When I wanted to take this journey, I couldn't find anything on the internet that could clinch the decision for me. Nor could I find any information or any "Things to know before" for this journey. Lonely planet concludes its subjective review of the journey in one line - "Travellers rave about the trip" before moving on the logistical details of taking the ferry.
So here it is - my attempt to add something to the online literature, so more of you could decide to take (or not take) this voyage.
Booking the Ferry
Booking the ferry took some stars to align, for the ferry only leaves twice a week, and is pretty steeply priced at ~$150. I also needed to make sure that the boat does not cross into Argentinian territory and border control, since it would create visa issues with my India passport. With the convenient option to book online, I was set for the ride on the last weekend of May.
Boarding the Yaghan
The ship that sails to Puerto Williams is named Yaghan, after one of the indigenous tribes from the region. It docks at the port called Tres Puentes in Punta Arenas. A convenient 10 minute Uber ride from the centre of the city, it is pretty easy to get to. The ticket mentions that passengers boarding starts 2 hours before the ferry departure and I, never having taken a long haul ferry, feared that I might be subjected to a palaver of controls, passport checks, frisking and whatnot.
I reach Tres Puentes 2 hours before the departure and spot a lady whom I approach to ask the procedure.
(in spanish)
"Which one's the Yaghan? To Puerto Williams. "
"That way!"
The only boat docked at the port with its bay open, I walk towards the ferry nervously, looking out for the procedures and checkpoints to allow me on the boat. None appeared.
I walk onto the boat. The relaxed ticket checker on the ferry,, leaning back relaxed on his chair, asks my name, checks it off in his list, doesn't feel the need to check my ID, trusts that I'm not trying to con him, and wishes me a pleasant journey. I wonder if things would be the same if this was a ferry in India.
So there I am, on the boat, with 2 more hours to kill and nothing to do. I already stocked up on the confectionary but turned out they had a confectionary shop at the port if you forgot to load up on those sweet nothings.
I took my seat - a wide 130 degree recliner - which happened to be right next to the window. (Be sure to select the seats on the right side of the ferry for the view and there are some seats on the right which wickedly have no windows. I suggest seat numbers 80, 68, 56, 44, 32).
Through my window, I watched the prosaic happenings on the port - the people working on other ships, seagulls returning to their homes in the evening and the full moon bigger than the sun in size showing itself from behind one of the hills. And suddenly the ferry shuddered, half an hour before the scheduled departure, and the giant engines started to whir and we were off.
The Comforts of the Yaghan
The Yaghan is primarily used to transport vehicles and supplies to the remote town and the deck in the centre is all cargo with a small but long fuselage for a cabin.
A sea voyage conjured up images of overworked sailors, battling the choppy waters, struggling of thirst and inflicted with afflictions like scurvy. Modern day sailing couldn't be any more different.
The Yaghan has an air conditioned cabin, clean toilets, showers, a common area where they serve 3 meals of the day from a kitchen, which also sells snacks in case one needs stuff to munch on. Cruise-like.
The seats are extraordinarily comfortable. The ones recline all the way into a 180 degree bed (called the camas) are reserved for the residents of Puerto Williams, and the others can only opt for the semi-camas, the ones that go 130 degrees.
The Route
The route is over 600 kms long, which is not much when looked at without context. The ferry doesn't go beyond a speed of 18km/hr, which makes it sound like a long, drab voyage, which it is nothing but.
The route starts from Punta Arenas, on the Strait of Magallen and goes west towards the Pacific, where it takes a southbound turn, passing between the islands of the archipelago and then takes a turn into the Beagle Channel, and sails east to its destination.
The Landscapes
I was worried about the duration of the journey. 32 hours is a little long for me. I was worried I would be restless and after a while become like Eric Andre yelling "Let me Outtttt!". It turned out, I was getting worried for nothing .
Probably the most beautiful landscapes I have ever seen in my life, it turned out to be the journey of a lifetime. The ship began to chug in the evening from Punta Arenas and braved the lashing, choppy and rough waters of the Strait of Magallen.
I woke up in the middle of the night by sudden jerk from a wicked wave. I could see the waves, as high as the ship, lashing the sides from my window. I decided to go out on the deck, at 4 am, to witness the sea up and close.
The sea was fiery. The full moon was shining bright. I could see a lighthouse blinking in the distance. There were islands on either side with snow caps on mountain tops, illuminated in the full moon night and the sky full of stars. It feels like you're closer to the cosmos somehow. The more I stood there, the more my layers got drenched from the splashed. I held on tightly to one of the beams and stood there for a few minutes. The deck was a very scary, cold, wet, and yet an enthralling place to be.
And then came the morning. The ship had taken the onslaughts of the open seas and as a reward, entered the calm and serene Beagle Channel.
The thin strip of water, carved the ancient glaciers, has mountains lined up on either side with the tiny islands peppered few and far between.
There are wide-winged albatrosses circling above, and ducks floating about on water and sea lions showing themselves every now and then. The elements seem to be in complete harmony and the the only outcast in the whole frame is the ferry and us, the passengers.
The mountains have a whole medley of geographical features - temperate and taiga forests, hanging valleys and waterfalls, moraines left behind by the glaciers - surrounded by misty clouds.
And no two mountains are the same. You would be blown away by the beauty of a view and before you can breathe back, another presents itself.
The Glacial Alley
About 6 hours before we reach the destination, there is a section of glaciers, called the glacial alley, with some of the most magnificent glaciers I've ever seen, in person or photographed. The glaciers are different in character, a rugged one creating a meandering wide-mouthed valley, while another is a azure-teal colored glacier with a rugged texture, and then there's another which has a massive volume of ice and goes all the way into the fjord. The whole situation gives you the foreboding that we are headed to the end of the world. And rightfully so.
By the time the ship goes past this alley in the channel, it's already dark. But there's one more spectacle to go. The city of Ushuaia in Argentina.
The city, the largest city in the whole region, is located right on the canal, towards the Argentinian side and shines bright.
We pass barely a kilometre from the of Ushuaia city and see its promenade and the expanse from the distance. The first signs of human life and settlement in the otherwise desolate terra.
The ferry rolls on. It makes another stop at the port of Yendegaia - a Chilean outpost without any population to drop off some supplies for the military, police and the construction workers with their temporary housing. And finally, about an hour later, at 1:30 am in the night, the ferry arrives at Puerto Williams. I can now pick up my dropped jaw and breathe.
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