We finally spend 4 days in the beautiful anchorage of Caleta Horno with lovely walks planned. Nina is starting to walk longer during our little hikes, which really helps our backs. For Diane, the steep terrain is sometimes tricky, but the guanacos, sheep, rheas (a type of ostrich), and maras (large hares) keep her well entertained as she sits comfortably in the baby carrier at the back. The last two days are marked by the arrival of the French sailboat Acquadoria, an Allure 44 heading back to Uruguay after spending two austral summers in Patagonia. It's the first French sailboat we've met since Cape Verde, and we're delighted as Robert, the captain, and his Breton crew share their experiences in the channels and their favorite spots.
Monday, March 13, we weigh anchor to reach Bahia Oso Marino, 170 miles south. After a few hours beating into rough seas, the wind shifts favorably, but leftover swells make sailing uncomfortable. At night, weaker-than-expected winds force us to motor for a few hours, especially since a strong southwest wind is forecast for the next evening, and we'd prefer to reach the anchorage before then. However, on Tuesday the 14th, after crossing the Gulf of San Jorge, strong opposing currents due to a 98 tidal coefficient and choppy seas prevent us from reaching our planned anchorage. Instead, we heave-to and then lie ahull as the 35-knot southwest wind arrives 10 hours earlier than predicted that same morning. We spend 24 hours lying ahull, sheltered by the southern coast of the Gulf of San Jorge, before finally reaching the anchorage at Bahia Sanguineto, where we can catch our breath. These two days have been
peu
exhausting for the crew, but our onboard stove kept humming nonstop while sailing (even lying ahull!), greatly improving life aboard—just like the jars of homemade meals we prepared before leaving France. On Thursday, March 16, late afternoon, the wind and current finally favor our arrival at Bahia Oso Marino, the last possible shelter on the Argentine coast, where we arrive at night. The beautiful fine-sand beach and shining sun make up for the rolling anchorage. We’ll only stay one night, as a decent weather window opens for Saturday. 420 miles separate us from Isla de los Estados, the natural extension of Tierra del Fuego’s main island, separated by the Le Maire Strait. The journey starts with 12 hours of motoring on flat, sunny seas—it’s almost too hot in the cockpit, sheltered by the sprayhood. Are we really approaching the Fifties?
....
Then the northeast wind picks up overnight, reaching 30 knots by Sunday. We cross the line of the Furious Fifties in the morning and are spoiled once again by little gifts from friends in our third surprise box, opened for the occasion. The girls are thrilled with their new books, stickers, chocolate, candy... Many thanks to those involved for these thoughtful touches that warm our hearts. By evening, the barometer starts dropping, squalls follow through the night, and by dawn, we’re in the path of a low-pressure system passing south of Cape Horn, gybing under double-reefed jib. On March 20, the northerly wind weakens, and we restart the engine for a few hours in the evening. We finally reach Isla de los Estados on the morning of Tuesday, March 21—the end of the austral summer... It’s not warm. We anchor with three lines in a star pattern at the
entrance
of Puerto Hoppner, as the real anchorage lies deeper in the fjord, but we’ll need high tide to get there... So that’s for tomorrow!
We’ll stay a few days in this nature reserve before heading to Ushuaia, about a hundred miles away, where we hope to post some photos!