Clark April 22nd, 2007
April 21, 2007
46º49′ South, 76º45′ West
Underway, six miles off Cabo Raper lighthouse
An hour ago writing something on a computer was unthinkable. The seas were huge and confused as I left the Golfo de Penas and I thought I was gonna hurl, and I haven’t been seasick since I was eighteen. The hulking twenty-foot ground swell from the Southern Ocean was just one of the many swells piling on top of each other. A big ship came past me and it was rolling all over the place, more than I’ve ever seen a big ship roll. It looked dangerous, but I guess I shouldn’t really be worrying about the safety of big ships at sea. Now the wind came around to west northwest, and I’m sailing along at five knots on a course of due north. The sun just set and I’m about to spend my first night at sea in two months.
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Clark April 22nd, 2007
April 19, 2007
46º48′ South, 75º15′ West
Pozo Omega
Correction: Whales don’t broach, they breach.
I made landfall at about 9:30PM, tied the boat in, and then ventured off for the hot springs in the dinghy with all the aforementioned gear.
For starters, it was a dark as the inside of a cow, and the light from a flashlight is just swallowed by the darkness. I had the handheld GPS, but one must first know how to use the handheld GPS. It initialized and connected with the satellites, I threw it in my pocket, and it was only when I really needed it that I realized I couldn’t figure out any of its key functions without the manual. At this point I thought my chances of finding the hot springs in the dark were pretty slim.
Then I thought I would use my sense of smell. I would sniff for the telltale sulfur smell. To backtrack a bit, I have just crossed the Golfo de Penas, a body of water with a nasty reputation. Most sailors try to get out of here without dallying. In fact, the Belgians, the German, and the Swedes all left at about the same time I did, but took advantage of the good weather to leave the Golfo de Penas and never look back. Why walk through the valley of the shadow of death when you can run? I, instead of doing the same, elected to stay here and recreate. Only now that I have successfully crossed this loathsome body of water and found a snug harbor, I have ventured back into the Golfo de Penas, in the middle of the night, in an eight foot rubber boat, and I’m motoring in circles sniffing the air like the village idiot. I realized the sulfur smell of a hot spring is almost indistinguishable from the general low tide, rotting mollusk smell of the shoreline. I abandoned my sniffing.
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Clark April 19th, 2007
April 19, 2007
46º48′ South, 75º15′ West
Underway
Today was more like it, sailing across the Golfo de Penas with 25-30 knots of wind out of the west, with whales spouting all around. It was the first proper sailing I’ve done in a long time. It’s nice to have the windvane set and be able to read and do a few things without worrying about crashing into the side of a channel.
The wind crapped out at the end of the day, so now I’m motoring the last 15 miles to my Hot Springs of the Holy Grail. I’m going in the dark: I don’t care. I’ve been dreaming of a hot soak for so long I’ve already got all my things ready: handheld GPS, razor, shaving cream, soap, a couple liters of tank water in a plastic bottle for washing off the rotten egg smell. I’ve been cold for so long and I’m freezing cold right now, so the thought is just delightful. It will be a crushing blow if they suck, especially since I will have taken the dinghy almost a mile from the anchorage in the cold night, not to mention the sixty-some mile deviation from my rhumbline to Valdivia.
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Clark April 18th, 2007
April 18, 2007
48º45′ South, 74º53′ West
Caleta Ideal (again)
At first light this morning three boats upped anchor to cross the Golfo de Penas. We had favorable GRIB files, a good weatherfax from the Armada, and stabilizing barometric pressures between the lighthouses at the northern and southern ends of the gulf.
Two hours later, three boats returned with bumps, bruises, and torn sails, shivering and demoralized. It was like a ghost story that a sailor would tell his children to make them behave.
Clark April 17th, 2007
April 16, 2007
48º03′ South, 74º35′ West
Puerto Island
I got out of Caleta Hell without incident this morning, but it was still howling in the main channel, Canal Messier. I pounded against it for a few miles until the next protected spot, where I found both the Belgians and the German to be cowering as well. With all the rain, the waterfalls are really going crazy. There was a huge one pouring off a cliff into deep water. I could have driven Condesa underneath, but it would have broken her in half. I settled for some good pictures with the bow almost in the cataract.
I changed the oil and did some routine maintenance, then slept all afternoon, and I’m not much of a nap taker.
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admin April 16th, 2007
Webmaster’s note: Just added some more great stories from Clark about his time spent in Argentina. You can find them under the Assorted Adventures link. Look for the stories with the title of “Good Times In Argentina”.
Warning – Some of the stories may contain salty language so don’t read without a net.
Clark April 15th, 2007
April 15, 2007
48º10′ South, 74º30′ West
Caleta Hell
Whooie, today was an eye opener.
I set sail before first light from my last caleta, hoping to get all the way to Isla San Pedro, the last anchorage before entering the Golfo de Penas. I was screaming along in ideal conditions, the current helping me along, doing seven knots. My only complaint was that it was freezing cold. Sleet was blowing into the wheelhouse from behind, I had every bit of clothing on that I could grab, and I still couldn’t ever get warm. My feet went completely numb.
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Clark April 14th, 2007
April 14, 2007
48º54′ South, 74º21′ West
Caleta Sabauda
I set sail from Puerto Eden today. Alejandro and Susana were looking relieved now that their charter guests had gone. We poured over some charts this morning and planned to meet up in a day or two. They aren’t in any hurry, but when they do decide to go they’ll move much faster than me, since Mago del Sur is 60 feet.
Puerto Eden was a regrouping point for all the yachts in the region. Now there are five of us within fifty miles of each other: The German; the Belgians; Alejando and Susana; some Swedes who I’d never met before; and the Gringo.
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Clark April 13th, 2007
Puerto Eden
49º07′ South, 74º25′ West
Arrived in Puerto Eden (population 350) yesterday.
If you’ve seen the movie The Piano or McCabe and Mrs. Miller, Puerto Eden is like that: a sodden frontier town. You walk everywhere on boardwalks above the mire, and everyone wears knee-high rubber boots. The main occupation is fishing for centolla, the southern cousin of the king crab. They use mussels to bait the traps, so they have giant piles of mussel shells next to their houses. They use wood fires for heating, so on the other side of the house is a giant pile of sawdust, wood chips, and wet logs.
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Clark April 12th, 2007
49º07′ South, 74º25′ West
Puerto Eden
Human beings, for the first time in three weeks.
I was really starting to lose it there, and then El Mono came out of nowhere. Alejandro, AKA El Mono, is my favorite of the Old Guard in Ushuaia, a true old salt. To describe him physically is easy: Santa Claus without the red suit. Wait, I take that back. I just looked outside and he’s at the helm, motoring alongside me about fifty yards away, and now wearing red foul weather gear. The image is complete.
He is originally from Buenos Aires, but has been doing charters out of Ushuaia for quite a few years now and has more trips to Antarctica and around the Horn than we can count. He was very inspirational and influential in some of my plans earlier in the year.
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