Iquique by Sea I

Join me on an early morning approach to Iquique, Chile, as we sail past the stark, mesmerizing Atacama Desert coastline. Experience the serene isolation and rugged beauty captured from the balcony of our cruise ship.

Standing on the balcony of our port side stateroom, the early morning light casts a subdued, almost ethereal glow over the vast expanse of the Pacific Ocean. The Oceania Regatta glides smoothly through the cold, dark waters, making its way toward Iquique, our first Chilean port of call. The sense of anticipation is palpable as we approach the coast of the Atacama Desert, a region renowned for being the driest place on Earth.

The view is both stark and mesmerizing. The coastline of the Atacama Desert rises sharply from the Pacific, a dramatic contrast to the vast, cold ocean that stretches out before us. The Humbolt current, a cold, nutrient-rich flow of water from southern Chile to northern Peru, swirls beneath the ship, adding a sense of dynamic movement to the scene. The chilly air, the muted colors of the sea and sky, and the barren, rugged landscape all combine to create an atmosphere of serene isolation.

In the distance, I imagine a dark point of land—the remnants of the abandoned town of Caleta Buena. Perched on a 750-foot escarpment, the town was once a bustling hub of nitrate mining, a vital industry that shaped the history of Iquique. The remains of piers jutting out into the ocean stand as silent witnesses to a bygone era, their weathered structures blending into the rugged coastline.

The sequence of photographs I’ve captured from this vantage point, working north to south, offers a panoramic view of this desolate yet captivating landscape. Using a 24 mm “wide angle” Canon lens mounted on a tripod, I’ve been able to frame the vastness of the ocean and the stark beauty of the Atacama coastline in a single, sweeping seascape.

Reflecting on our overnight journey from Matarani, Peru, I’m struck by the profound sense of isolation that accompanies travel along this desolate coast. During the 250-mile sail, the darkness was absolute, the inky blackness of the night broken only by the occasional glimmer of stars reflected in the ocean below. It was a journey through a void, a stark reminder of the sheer scale and remoteness of this part of the world.

As we draw closer to Iquique, the coastal mountains rise up, marking the transition from the Pacific to the arid plains of the Atacama Desert. The stark beauty of this landscape, with its rugged cliffs and barren expanses, is both humbling and awe-inspiring. It’s a reminder of the harsh conditions that have shaped this region, and of the resilience of the people who have carved out a living here over the centuries.

From the balcony of our stateroom, I feel a deep sense of connection to this place. The vastness of the ocean, the stark beauty of the desert coastline, and the rich history of the region all combine to create a profound sense of place. This is a land of extremes, a place where the forces of nature have sculpted a landscape of breathtaking beauty and unforgiving harshness.

As we approach Iquique, I feel a sense of gratitude for the opportunity to witness this unique corner of the world. The journey is a reminder of the incredible diversity and beauty of our planet, and of the importance of preserving these natural wonders for future generations. This approach to Iquique is a journey to a new port, a journey into the heart of one of the world’s most remarkable landscapes.

Copyright 2024 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved

Maritime Pilots, Scout Island, Scout Canal

About maritime pilots and the Chilean Fjords

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On our way to Fjord Tempanos and the Iceberg Glacier…..

Background: on a ship, facing the bow (front), starboard is right and port is left).

In the 8 miles from Tarn Bay and Sombrero Island lands press closer, higher, islands increase in number.  This is a listing of some of the islands we passed. These names reflect the history of Chile, the waves of immigrants touch the land with memories. After some of the names, below, I provide in parentheses the derivation.

On starboard was the northern Wellington Archipelago (English General): Pinochet (the Chilean dictator), Penguin, Juan Stuven (Spanish and German), Chang (the far east), Millar (German).

On port, the names have a military flavor: Zealous, Scout, Scylla (Sea Monster of Greek mythology), Alert, Orlebar (British Officer Augustus Orlebar).

These port side island names reflect what is on the minds of mariners as navigational options narrow with the channel.  Innumerable channels, points, mid-channel islets, all looking very much the same, a potentially confusing jumble.  Chilean maritime law demands ships have on board, working from the bridge, a certified Chilean maritime pilot to transverse the country’s dangerous channels and fjords.  The combination of stopping distance (multiple nautical miles) and the loss of steering when a ship moves slowly make it essential to know, exactly, the route ahead.  It was a Chilean maritime pilot who help keep us safe.

A great personal hazard for pilots is boarding the ship from the pilot boat.  From our stateroom terrace we observed fast pilot boats in all seas approach the Regatta miles from port, the pilot on the bow, pull up alongside.  Without a harness, the pilot transfers from boat to ship.  We observed this several times from our stateroom veranda.

Here are shots of the pilot boat approaching the Regatta off the Peruvian port of Matarani. The boat was mirrored by the colorfully painted houses of Peru.

Don Roberto Approaches the Regatta
A fast pilot boat from Matarani approaches the Oceania Regatta. On the bow, the pilot will transfer from boat to ship. On board he will work with the Regatta crew to safely navigate the approach to the Matarani harbor and dock. The whiteness on the land is diatomaceous earth.
Don Roberto, Maritime pilot, approaches the Regatta
The whiteness on the land is diatomaceous earth.

A cautious approach. In the third shot the boat turns to slowly approach the Regatta.

Alongside, boat crewmembers joint Don Roberto on the bow to assist in the transfer. I am not sure which of the two blue uniformed persons was “our” pilot.

I did not capture the boarding of the pilot who served the Regatta through the Chilean Fjords.  Was is at Puerto Montt?  Puerto Chacobuco?  I am not sure.  I do know a maritime pilot was on board as the channel narrowed to 2 miles, named Scout Channel were we passed Scout Island.  I was facing generally east from our port side stateroom veranda while capturing these photographs as the Regatta headed south.

Scout Island and Canal
Scout Island. The water is Scout Channel

The peak on Scout Island is about 2,100 feet. The smaller peaks in front are about 1,200 and 1,500 feet. All rise straight up from Scout channel.

Scout Island
Scout Island lies on the Scout Canal
Scylla Island
Lying just south of Scout Island, Scylla Island is between our ship, in the Scout Canal, and the Kruger Canal. The Kruger is short, between Islands Scout, Orebar, Zealous, Porcia and Tito.
Islet Alert and Orebar Island
Islet Alert is between Canal Scout and Canal Kruger. On the far left there are waves breaking on Pilot Point of Orebar Island, marking the northern end of a small bay, named Hale. You can see the bay behind Islet Alert. On the far left there are waves breaking on Pilot Point

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Entering Messier Channel from the Gulf of Penas

Sailing a deep fjord

Gulf of Penas
The Gulf of Penas is exposed to the storms of the western pacific. We are here moving from Aisen Region to the Magellan Region of Chile. Also known as Patagonia. This view is the Larenas Peninsula. The Northern Patagonian Ice Fields are on the other side of those mountains, the Southern Andes.

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Taken with a Canon EOS 1Ds Mark3, the EF 70-300 f 4-5.6L IS USM lens, tripod mounted on a Manfrotto carbon fiber travel tripod.  UV filter  1/160 second at f 6.3 ISO 250.

There is a steady wind of about 12 mph driving a few white caps.  A line of surf is seen breaking against the cliffs.  Shot midmorning from our stateroom terrace as the Regatta cruises south, February 17, 2016.  We are headed to an encounter with the Iceberg Glacier of the Southern Ice Fields of Patagonia.

Photography conditions were poor: shooting into the sun from an unstable platform gives poor contrast for the mountain crags.  The stabilization of the Canon lens was helpful and I balanced the need for a short exposure with the lowest ISO possible.  No time to experiment.

Copyright 2022 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved

Gulf of Penas

Rounding the Aisen Headland

Entering Penas Gulf
Rounding the Aysen Region headland of the Penas Gulf. Next land will be the Magellian Region extending to Cape Horn. In the Penas Gulf we will enter the Messier Channel and the fjords.

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Taken with a tripod mounted Sony DSLR A 700 DT 18-200 variable lens set to 18 mm.  1/40 second at f4.5 ISO 6400.  The sun was still low, after sunrise with gathering storm clouds from the terrace of our state room (a moving ship).

Our early morning traverse of the Penas Gulf was smooth sailing in route for Tarn Bar, entrance to the Messier Channel. We’ll pass Wager Isle where May 14, 1741 the H.M.S. Wager wrecked, stranding the crew. Speaking to the conditions on board, immediately some of the crew broke into the “Spirit Room, got drunk, armed themselves and began looting, dressing up in officers’ clothes and fighting,” many drowning the next day when the Wager flooded and sank.

The original fronts piece to Byron’s Narrative; “Being an Account of the Shipwreck of The Wager and the Subsequent Adventures of Her Crew.”

The remaining 140 officers and crew manned the boat to make for shore in the Patagonian winter. Five years later, midshipman John Byron, grandfather to the poet Lord Byron, made it back to England with the Captain David Cheap. Just west of Wager Isle is the larger Byron Isle, named in his honor.

On this south heading our cabin on the port side faced east. In these early morning hours, I set up on the stateroom balcony, so for better or worse there is no views of either Wager or Byron Isle.

Entering Messier Channel from the Gulf of Penas is the next blog in this series.

Lighthouse on Cape Rapier is the previous blog in this series.

The contents of this blog are Copyright 2021 Michael Stephen Wills