We continue down Canale Perez Sur. Narrower, less exposed and more interesting than Canale Moraleda, this channel seemed always to be generating contrary wind and tide. Much motoring. Today’s highlight was the sea lion colony on one of the many Islas Blancas en route.
We anchored late in Puerto Americano, a cosy, secret lagoon on the south shore of isla Tangbac. Dolphins escorted us through the narrows in failing evening light, for sleeps of the dead.
At 8 next morning a knock on the hull from local fishermen wanting to use our VHF. Beers exchanged for fresh crabs. Condors above eavesdrop on another of those cross-cultural events short on factual exchange but big on animated gesture and goodwill. By turns we lean forward willing comprehension. Experience with charades is a definite asset in such situations, although the sense of communion is real.
We departed at noon (the earliest recorded measure of morning time in our lazy lives) in a brief hail shower, motor-sailing across Canal Moraleda in W winds of 25-30 kts.
Squalls romped down from Isla Benjamin, heralding their approach with lines of whitecaps. Between times, a sunny boisterous day. I spoke with the cultured female voice of “Saga Rose”, an elegant ship ex Nassau, en route Valparaiso. How odd to converse without any language barrier.
For a couple of hours we roared SW at 8.2 kts under yankee alone, but the breeze dropped as we entered Canal Costa. At 10 pm we groped our way into Ensenada los Mogotes in almost pitch black. Easy, as it turned out, though given our time of departure this was not really a wise choice of destination. Crab curry was a production above and beyond the call of duty.
We are tucked in behind a line of rocky islets with absurd forest toppings. “Mogotes” are champagne corks and that is what they look like.