After a gorgeous morning with best coffee, Mendelssohn octet, long discussion about velvet evening dresses was followed by a brisk, windless motorsail north with 1.5 kts of current and late arriving northerly as we arrived at Puerto Aiguirre. Well anchored in a pretty little bay to the east of the port, with 2 shore lines, we walk into town.
While the anchorage is lovely, the town of Aiguirre is not a tourist gem – a poor fishing village which seems to be turned in on itself. Faces glimpsed through dark windows. The main drag is a steep dirt track tumbling down to the wharf and the shellfish processing plant. The Armada officer said we’re the first yacht to have been here for a year, so we must be something of a novelty in town, but you wouldn’t know it. We are certain that everyone knows who we are, where we are, where we’ve been and where we’re going. But none of the open Chiloean smiles and hola’s. Averted eyes. Shy? Hostile? Resentful of our wealth? Who knows. At least the children are gorgeous.