Back on the road, we approached the port at Bahia Azul. At this stage the wind was absolutely howling, and we were suspecting the worst for the ferry. The traffic jam that ground our progress to a halt well before the port confirmed that we would be delayed. What was more concerning however was the immediate impact this would have on the camper van. I can only describe the feeling inside the vehicle, as it swayed from side to side and rocked to the tune of Mother Nature, as frightening. It really felt like we were going to tip over. I even insisted on us all sitting on one side of the vehicle, to ensure the most weight possible was here to counteract the wind the best way possible. After 20 minutes of this, with an undefined length of time still to endure, we decided that we had to do something.
Laura literally fought her way out the door of the camper van, and struggled towards the front of the two-kilometer long queue of trucks and cars. Myself and the kids remained in near silence as we eagerly awaited her return. She arrived back declaring that we had found a knight in shining armour. A local Chilean truck-driver at the front of the queue had offered us refuge to the inside of his 18-wheeler, thus largely protecting us from Tierra del Fuego’s most deadly weapon. We could effectively hide-out there for as long as needed, then rejoining the ferry queue in the same spot.
Parking up beside him was a genuinely joyous experience. A good 95% of the pain, discomfort and stress we had been feeling evaporated instantly behind this big rig. We even turned the gas on and proceeded to cook ourselves lunch in the middle of the southern gale.
Hours passed as we waited for anything to change. We had been told that there may be a window to make the ferry crossing in the late afternoon, when the lower sun often robs the wind of its strength. The predictions were indeed accurate as movement was spotted across the Magallenes Channel with the first ferry departing in our direction. Another quickly followed and word spread via the ignition of vehicle engines large and small.
Returning to our place well down the queue, we had to wait until the third ferry docked before driving-on. Less concerned with spotting local wildlife than on the previous crossing, we staggered on deck to watch the boat fight the wind and current with all its might.
Reaching Punta Delgada marked the end of our Tierra del Fuego experience. We had successfully travelled through an incredibly inhospitable, barren and wild land. But only just, and only thanks to the kindness of a stranger.
The European occupation of Tierra del Fuego in the mid-19th century was not a positive experience for the Yaghan people. Between 85-90% of the indigenous population are believed to have died as a result of the colonisation by 1910. While diseases brought by the uninvited visitors had a large part to play, the locals were also denied access to their usual food and clothing sources, leading to their increased susceptibility to such diseases.
As mere visitors to the island ourselves that windy November day, we can only thank our lucky stars that we had the help of a local, only too helpful to lend a hand to a family in need.
Click here to read the “What’s In A Name?” blog post
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