El Calafate

Clayton here. I'm still unsure about whether or not our last blog was actually posted. For some reason it won't let me see it. (I must admit to being a computer illiterate.) It was only a short update without any real substance.
Still don't know what km it is but we'll add all that when we figure it out. I believe we left you in Puerto Montt, just before we were to take the ferry to Puerto Chacabuco. That turned out to be the ride of my life. Perhaps the story will seem like nothing to some of you but for about five minutes on Thursday morning I thought I might possibly die. Wednesday's daylight gave us some superb views of the land and sea; we rode some really big waves, saw jumping dolphins, sea lions and even some whales as the sun was setting. Much more than I could have hoped for. But at five o'clock Thursday morning the boat collided... with something, something big. The crash lasted about five seconds, seeming like an eternity. Everyone (maybe 200 passengers) was instantly awakened by the shaking of the boat, accompanied by the horrible sound of scraping metal in deep, deep water. The boat was on an angle and the motors were shut off. The windows showed nothing but black: water or sky. Most are looking at each other, not knowing what to say. Ten seconds later, someone comes running into the cabin with a life jacket in each hand yelling, "Jackets! Jackets!". Once we were all suited and on the top of the boat, they began to separate men from women and children. Commotion but not quite panick. I cannot summarize the panic in my head. Trying to recollect all the thoughts is nearly impossible. But at this point we could also make out lights in the distance, the faint outline of a shore, and the boat was right again, reversing. I began to calm down thinking I could make it if I had to swim, but what about the cold? And what about the sharks? I had dreamt the previous night about sinking ships and sharks and I really did not want to be in the water. About 15 minutes later and everyone was back in the cabins, but no one was going back to sleep. The morning light showed a tree branch, with green leaves, lying on the front of the ship. How is that possible? It wasn't long until someone came out to throw all the evidence overboard, including a broken light cover from the front light of the ship. (That light must stand at least 20 feet above the water.) We never did get a view of the very front, and we were never told for certain what had happened. Anyway, having a lifelong fear of sharks, which is transferred to water in general, I was scared. What more can I say? Chile has been the location of the angriest moment in my life (when my backpack was stolen), and now the most frightening.
I did get back on the horse, so to speak, with another ferry that took us across Lago General Carrera (the same day). By that night we were camping in Los Antiguos, Argentina. The next morning we caught the bus to El Chalten: 14 hours of ranch land basically, mostly on rough gravel road. We saw guanacos (a relative of the llama), road runners, horses and cattle in a land without fences. The winds in Chalten prevented us from camping as the poles in our tent were bending in the wrong direction.
El Calafate, the next day, and we arranged a bus ride to the glacier Perito Moreno. I had never heard of this before, but apparently it is one of the only advancing glaciers in the world, if not the only. It creeps over a narrow point in a river, eventually closing it off completely. The water is diverted around the glacier up onto the banks, but eventually the pressure builds enough to break a tunnel through the glacier, maybe 500 metres long, fifty metres wide (huge anyway). This phenomenon occurred in March of 2004 and before that in 1988. Many were saying that it would happen the next day. However, the rupture happened the night we arrived in Calafate, so we missed it. Still, the icebergs that separate from the glacier are massive and the sound of the crash into the river can actually be felt sometimes. We were hoping to witness the collapse of the tunnel, but it fell apart in chunks. Still one of the most impressive displays of nature I have ever seen. I would suggest finding pictures of it on the net as I'm guessing there are some.
Tomorrow we depart from Calafate for Puerto Natales. One more day of last minute preparations for our week of trekking in Torres del Paine. Things are going well, as always. I've already forgotten the name of the ferry company. We miss you all and hope that everything is going well. And sorry for such a long read. It may be more than a week 'til we write again but we hope you'll stay tuned. As always, thanks for your comments.