8th-9th November: Punta Arenas

Our principal task upon arriving in Punta Arenas - in fact, the only reason for pitching up 24 hours before our ship set off - was to pay in cash for our tickets.  If we didn't pay in cash by 5pm the previous day, our booking would be cancelled.  As it turned out the ferry was half-empty anyway, but we weren't to know that then.

After taking a taxi collectivo (a cross between a taxi and a bus, it's a four-passenger car with a number and a fixed route) out towards the port.  We managed to find our way to the ferry company's new building, a bright yellow monstrosity overlooking the Magellan Strait.  There we handed over our cash (several hundred thousand Chilean pesos) and in return we received tickets, an itinerary (with estimated times), and the news that we would be taking the maiden voyage of their new ferry, the Yaghan.  We later read that this had arrived in port only a few days earlier, having made its way down from the Pacific shipyards of Valdivia.  After a garlic-laden dinner at a place called, quite appropriately, Sabores, we retreated to our very comfortable hostel to front-load on sleep, since we anticipated it would be in short supply aboard the ferry.

Sunset over Punta Arenas

After a relaxed morning in the hostel, we went for a walk around Punta Arenas (translated directly from the name given by English privateers, Sandy Point).  After a stroll along the coast, we stopped by the Braun-Menéndez Regional Museum, housed in an impressive "palacio" just off the main plaza.  The sumptous furnishings testified to the wealth that a few early pioneers had managed to discover in this seemingly desolate landscape.  The museum also had a presentation on the history of the region, including tales of the raids by the fiendish English.

Former Sara Braun mansion, another palace

View of the Cathedral, under renovation

Lunch was then followed by a very brief trip to the naval museum, an exciting prelude to our grand voyage south-east to Isla Navarino.  There were lots of photos and models, plus a full-size reconstruction of a ship's bridge.  Most interesting was the grainy yellow footage, narrated by some crazy old sea-dog, of a horrific-looking voyage around Cape Horn on a sailboat.  Not for the weak of stomach.

Thus inspired, we decided to find a map of the straits and fjords that our ferry would be navigating.  The guy at the entrance to the naval museum directed us to a place selling proper navigational maps, but the only map they had was unwieldy in size and unattractive in price.  We eventually found elsewhere a map that would not have done for sailing but would be clear enough for us to follow our progress, or so we hoped.  Suitably equipped, we headed over to the port to catch the ferry.