Juan Fernandez to Puerto Montt - April 26 to May 2, 2003

Ahhh... what a tough decision... to leave the peace and traquility of Cumberland Bay back to the open ocean. But this time we had Ulli! So merrily, we went on our way once more.

We pulled anchor at 1830 on April 26, set our patchwork quilt mainsail, and quickly set up shifts and duties. It was sunny with light cloud and a non-existent breeze at 7 knots from the south east. We pleasantly went along our merry way, still playing between sailing and moving under power, until at 1430 the following day we felt DP shudder and a dull thud. Then the stench of fish??!! Ulli looked back and saw a fin, a little over 1/2 metre, arc through the air above the water, then gradually sink. Clearly we had hit something alive, but we were puzzled by what, and we were concerned because we had heard it connect with our propellar, which was in motion at the time. We made a broad arc to check that the boat was still okay, and to see if there was any trace of what we had connected with.

We were eventually able to deduce that it has been a sunfish. Yes, one of those 13' monstrosities that like to lie on their sides like a pancake in the ocean, searching for jellyfish. We had connected with this one, although it was against DP's side, so I suppose one could say that it ran into us. But the laws of thermodynamics left us intact and the fish with a big bruise. I had wanted to see one of these fish for as long as I can remember, but I didn't want to run the bloody thing over!!

We continued to patch the mainsail together as the seams continued to split and fray. In the end, we rolled up the most damaged parts and taped the rest together with a wonderful product called Sail Bandage. Yes, it really does work on wet sails! We eventually had a sewing session, dropping the entire sail and all four of us sewing madly to keep it together. So the question is... were we having a "sailing bee" or a "sewing bee"... or some combination thereoff???

On May 1st we received sad news once again. This time, Barry's aunt had died. We seemed to be using the Iridium primarily for news of deaths on this trip. The same day, we began to feel the effects of the cold Humboldt Current and began donning mits, toques, and long underwear. We had a nasty squall one evening that sent two water spouts barrelling no more than 15 nautical miles away from us. Fortunately, they were headed in another direction, so we got the view, but not the effects.

Finally, on May 1, we spotted land. It started with a few spots of land... then eventually the northern end of Isla Chiloé. Located high up on the north western most bluff of Isla Chiloe was the Punta Corona lighthouse, who promptly contacted us, having spotted us with their eagle-sharp eyes. We had a pleasant and lively discussion in some combination of broken english and muddled spanish. We knew that we had arrived too late to transit Canal Chacao as the tides had turned and the current was too strong. We were advised quite pleasantly by the fellows at Faro Corona that Puerto Inglés would provide us with the rest we needed and a good place to wait for the tide change.

We dropped anchor in the tranquil bay just off of Puerto Inglés to a beautiful sunset. It was so incredibly peaceful and beautiful with the sun dropping behind the low, rolling hills of Isla Chiloé.

The following morning was overcast and we made contact with the fellows at Faro Corona early. They advised that we make our transit at 0900, just after the turn of the tide. We were anxious and wanted to head out at 0800, but the currents in Canal Chacao are notorious.

Indeed, the cautions were very real. It was an overcast day, but the swirls of the currents were very dramatic. We watched the sealions frolicking in the turbulance and were astonished to see DP cruising along at 10 knots, frequently drifting up to 12, and peaking at 13!

The weather cleared as we headed north into the islands and wove our ways around them. It turned into a glorious day, and we were greated by dolphins, sealions (lobos), and albatross.

Our arrival into Marina del Sur, just outside of Puerto Montt, was uneventful. We were familiar with the area as we had the opportunity to sail aboard Alaska Eagle about one year before.

It was sad to check off yet another passage on our list, and somehow we felt that we could have kept on going. However, with the broken forestay and damaged sails, it was a tremendous relief to now have the opportunity to have proper repairs. Our poor old mainsail had managed to stay together just long enough to Puerto Montt, but desperately needed to be retired. It was time to wash DP down and treat her to some TLC. Puerto Montt could provide this, and we were prepared for a winter of repairs, projects, and learning spanish!!