Two Days Out
Clark March 22nd, 2007
Webmaster note: Clark is sending updates via sailmail as he heads north through South America. Stay tuned for regular posts.
I finally got out of Puerto Williams, the southernmost boring place in the world. I was across the Beagle Channel reprovisioning in Ushuaia, Argentina, and I hoped to do a one day turnaround in Puerto Williams, just long enough to check into Chile. The weather turned sour, as it tends to do in these parts, and it’s become one of those weeks when the conditions at the Horn range from dangerous to deadly. Three days ago there was another killer storm out there, and I was glad to be cowering in Puerto Williams with many boats much larger than Condesa, all rafted up next to the Micalvi.
I started motoring during a break in the weather, but got shut down by fifty knot headwinds after just twelve miles. I anchored in a lovely little spot and contemplated what the hell I was going to do on this boat all by myself for the next two months. The good part about being alone is that the schedule can run on my body clock: I woke up at 4AM and thought, hmm, let’s go. I made it a whopping 24 miles, almost to the spectacular Brazo Noroeste of the Beagle Channel, before I was once again smashed in the face with fifty knot headwinds. I turned tail and backtracked to Caleta Borracho (it’s really called that), and tied Condesa in for the first time by myself. (Can’t swing at anchor down here, because the coves and fjords are too tight.) It was a project, and luckily Condesa was very well-behaved and didn’t go swinging into the rocks while I untangled lines and tied them to trees.
Important lesson: It is better to tie the end of the line to Condesa, then paddle it ashore to tie it to the tree, rather than the reverse. The first line was a little too short, and though I paddled hard and worked up a great sweat, I could not drag the tree any closer to Condesa. The second line was also a little too short, but I found I could stand on the rocks and pull Condesa toward the shore.
Before I finished some Belgian friends showed up to hide in the same cove. They’re usually very social, but seemed to be having one of those moments that couples have when sailing in difficult conditions in the pouring rain. All I got was ‘merde’ when Michel rowed by, also headed for a tree with a tangled line.
Spent the afternoon in the engine room, tightening the head bolts and replacing a gasket, but that’s another story. It’s raining too hard to take a walk on shore.
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