Por fin!

On Monday the students readied the van twice to attempt the trip to Puerto Natales and twice were denied. Morale was low and there was plenty of misdirected blame to go around. By evening they were back at the hostel in Punta Arenas, ready to go at any moment.
As the Navimag ferry approached the Puerto Natales harbor, cars and people descended on the port. They had threatened a blockade and riot police were also out in full force. I decided to accompany some folks from the hostel who were trying to get on the boat. As we walked down at 10:30, the deep blue of the darkening summer evening sky made for a dramatic backdrop against the hundreds of black flags. For all the bluster, though, it was a pretty tame mob. Families turned out, and groups of teenagers on summer vacation. They waved flags and made up chants against the president and laughed and aped for gringo would-be photojournalists. The whole thing felt more like a school pep rally than civil unrest. This is what´s derailing my course?, I thought.
Police ushered our friends through to the ferry office, but they were not allowed on board until 3:30 the next morning. Meanwhile, passengers on the boat who´d traveled three days from Puerto Montt were being briefed on the situation for the first time, and given the choice between staying on the boat for a three day round-trip ¨cruise", or getting off in a town still very much under siege. Protesters got on board to speak to the foreigners in Spanish and English."Our fight is against the government. it is peaceful. You have nothing to fear. You can walk around freely. But, who knows when you can leave town."Some stayed on board, some chanced it.
Those who got off chose wisely. By Tuesday morning, whiffs of an end were in the air. Still, I had to lugs hundreds of pounds of trip food across town on foot because the taxis refused to pick me up. The students were in the van and on their way so I was finally optimistic enough to start buying perishable food. By midday it was clearly over, after a few more vehicle parades through town and a lot of honking and flag-waving.
The students arrived in a terrible mood, but started to perk up when they looked at maps and checked out our fantastic itinerary. We scrambled all day to buy and pack food and check gear and now were ready to head out. Even with the lost days, we´re looking at a 19 day unsupported kayak expedition through the fjords of Patagonia. Hasta luego!

Day 7- Under Siege

Over the past three days the Red Cross has evacuated around 1000 tourists from here in Puerto Natales. Folks waited for hours or days at the school that was turned into a shelter, their luggage taped with tags to one of two destinations, El Calafate in Argentina or the Punta Arenas airport. The elderly and families were given priority, loaded onto an Army convoy, and transported through the blockades to the tiny Puerto Natales airport where Chilean military planes arrived to fly them out. Some waited all day at the school to no avail. We got used to the parade of people each morning, rolling their luggage down the main street to the school, with looks of cautious optimism, then the opposite, dejected procession in the evening. The lucky ones who made it out didn't fare much better. The little town of El Calafate was soon overwhelmed and the Punta Arenas airport quickly developed an enormous backlog. Luckily, these are the best equipped refugees around and soon people had fired up their camp stoves outside the airport to make up for the lack of available food.
The popular Torres del Paine National Park was finally evacuated and closed on Saturday, so 1500 trekkers who had been stuck there instead found themselves stuck in Puerto Natales. Our little band of refugees at the Erratic Rock hostel was inundated by a huge crowd coming from the park. Bill turned no one away, using every couch and even putting people in the former brothel next door, a cold and dilapidated structure that I've called home for the past week. Many people also stayed at the Red Cross shelter. We ran out of bread, but Bill still cheerfully cooked omelettes for all 35 of us each morning.
Most businesses have been closed, but the little grocer a few doors down has been doing a very brisk business selling staples. Amazingly they still seem to have quite a bit of food and wine, but the beer supply is running low.
I've been back and forth with US embassy officials, trying to find a way to get my students here. They are still in Punta Arenas, treated to a daily show of tire fires and endless processions of honking cars. Unfortunately, people are still only focused on getting people out, not in. Every day it seems like there is an end in sight to all of this, and every day it drags on. Bits of news or rumor filters through the gringo mill, and all information is hard to confirm.
Last night we heard from someone at the US embassy that the roads were briefly open. We found a van, but had trouble finding a driver willing to brave the blockades and the likelihood of getting stuck here in Puerto Natales. Finally a plan coalesced this morning. Pato drove the Erratic Rock van on a recon mission, it's logo covered by the ubiquitous black flag of the protesters. To no avail. No vehicles were being allowed to pass.
Now, a few hours later, they're trying again, this time for real, with students on board and yerba mate as a bribe.
Meanwhile, here in Puerto Natales another drama is playing out. The Navimag is approaching the port. This is the once weekly ferry that delivers people and food to southern Patagonia. Will the protesters allow it to dock? Will the hundreds of ticket-holding tourists be allowed to board? Will food be unloaded? Many folks here at the hostel have tickets on the return trip to Puerto Montt in the north, and are counting on the ferry as their escape.
Those not trying to leave are scraping up food rations for a refugee barbecue tonight. Hmm, there are a lot of street dogs wandering around........

Gore-Tex Refugees

An international kayak expedition/course is always a big endeavor. There is a tremendous amount of gear to gather and prepare. There is route planning and charts to pour over. There are permits to clear, menus to plan, food to pack, kayaks to procure and check, electronics to charge and dry bags to pack. Students need to arrive from all over the place with luggage intact. In our case here in Patagonia, the Navy must be placated through meetings and gear checks. The weather must cooperate, to a certain extent. Then the last dry bag is somehow crammed into an already full hatch and the last kayak is coaxed from shore.You feel the water take over and the grab of the paddle. Now there are other concerns- safety, schedule, group dynamics- but it's really just you and the sea, town worries fade away and the rhythm of the tides and wind takes over. If you get there......
We have another hurdle to mount, one completely beyond our control. I am in Puerto Natales, where the course is to begin and end, while the students are in the larger gateway city of Punta Arenas. The strike has completely cut off the two, stranding hundreds, maybe thousands of foreigners and throwing a big fat monkey wrench into our plans. What seemed to be a small protest against a natural gas price hike, has dragged on and morphed into a regional crisis. It's almost completely peaceful, but has already proved to be a huge inconvenience for visitors to Patagonia at the height of the summer season. People can't get to or from Torres del Paine National Park, or to the airport to catch flights home. Food is often difficult to find because most business are closed. When stores are open, supplies are starting to run a bit thin.
Yesterday, with no resolution in sight, many tourists chose to shoulder their backpacks and walk 15 miles to the Argentine border. They were successful after a long day's hike, but others from my hostel who tried to walk to the Park ended up coming back after many hours. They had hoped to catch a sympathetic ride on the far side of the blockade, but cars have stopped coming after many were harassed and vandalized.
Two days ago a meeting with the local governor was called for foreigners stuck here in Puerto Natales. So many people showed up (400-500) that it had to be moved outside. The crowd was tense and somewhat angry, shouting that we were being held hostage. Someone yelled, "you got the miners out faster than us", to much laughter and applause. "We are hostages! You are using us as a bargaining tool in your conflict!" others yelled. All was very dramatic. De facto group leaders emerged and gave impassioned declarations. I was frustrated too, but thought a little perspective was in order. Sure, people have been inconvenienced, but come on, this is not Darfur. You are trapped in a place with restaurants serving king crab and roast lamb and good wine and there are nice beds to sleep in.
The governor said that, as a party in the dispute, he couldn't help, and so was calling in the Red Cross. Now, after two days the Red Cross is organizing some evacuation flights this afternoon. Hundreds of people are lining up with their luggage at a makeshift shelter.
Unfortunately, since I'm trying to get students in, not out, this is not a help to us. All six students made it in to the Punta Arenas airport in the last two days. They were forced to walk many hours into town, but are all together at our hostel there. Punta Arenas is the center of the opposition and the town is filled with street blockades and big demonstrations. I guess it's an early exercise in team-building for the group.
Yesterday brought a brief ray of hope when the government caved on its initial plan to increase fuel rates by 17%, and offered a 3% increase. Unbelievably, this compromise was refused and the strike continues. The latest news is that all businesses in the region will close on Monday. Ay yi yi!
If only we can get the students here and out on the water, all will be fine.....

Strike

On the road just outside of Puerto Natales, in front of a sign welcoming visitors to the tourism capital of Patagonia, is an enormous statue of a extinct giant sloth waving a huge black flag. The statue honors the milodon, a 10000 year old creature with the body of a grizzly and the tail of a kangaroo, found 100 years ago in a nearby cave. The flag is a recent addition, lashed on by protesters angered by a proposed hike in natural gas prices. Here in chilly Patagonia, people rely on natural gas to heat their homes and power their hybrid cars. The government has historically subsidized this fuel to bring costs to the consumer more in line with the warmer parts of the country. A proposed cut in the subsidy would raise prices here in Patagonia by 17%.
The solidarity shown by the milodon is emblematic of the widespread reach of the protest. All roads into and out of every town are blockaded, the streets are mostly deserted and almost every business is closed. All this has put our 24 day expeditionary sea kayak course
in a bit of jeopardy. I'm in Puerto Natales and was planning to head to Punta Arenas today to meet the students and shop for food. The status of the airport is unclear, so I'm not sure the students will even arrive at this point, and there is no way for me to get to Punta Arenas right now without a helicopter.
I arrived in that most southern of port cities five days ago after several flights from the US. The flight from Santiago was fantastic, with amazing views of the northern and southern ice caps, and the fjords. The mountains gave way to the windswept, barren Patagonian steppe, until we finally reached the end of the continental landmass at the Strait of Magellan and landed in Punta Arenas, a cold and windy ramshackle port town with a scruffy charm.
I soon made my way to Puerto Natales and dove into trip prep, gathering the tremendous amount and variety of gear needed for a trip like this. I found a proper nautical chart and poured over the proposed route with German at Tutravesia, who is providing kayaks and logistical support.
The biggest hurdle was supposed to be the Chilean Navy. Without their approval there would be no expedition. A simple formality when I paddled in Chile 10 years ago had become a serious bureaucratic affair. I was seated at a conference table across from three officials, all starched uniforms and epaulets and hairstyles that I believe are called the "deep side part". There was a chart on the wall and a pointer and the whole thing reminded me a bit of Dr. Strangelove.
Some recent mishaps had made them somewhat wary of kayakers. I was grilled on my experience, on that of each member of the group, and on the specific safety and communication equipment we'd be carrying. The meeting was followed up with a long and thorough written application. All was in place for their august seal of approval, the ferocious winds were lying down out of the fjord, and then.... Strike!
Yesterday I biked out of town, past the vigilant milodon and some real-life black-necked swans to the barricade.
It was an orderly and peaceful scene that could have been anywhere. Working class families feeling the squeeze of rising prices and stagnant wages. So for now I'm stuck here at the wonderfully cozy Erratic Rock hostel, along with lots of other folks trying to go trekking in Torres del Paine. At least the wine and cheese shop is still open...