An easy sail - with the odd penguin
and the occasional patch of water that attracted a heap of squawking birds
Our anchorage for the night was in a bay near the town of Rilán. We had been hoping for a nice, quiet anchorage there. We were the only sailboat, but we were surrounded by a salmon farm and a large area of mussel rafts. In the bay with us were all of the workboats used to attend to it all. Our nearest neighbor was one of the ferries with a big ramp built into the bow that are common around here. They were swinging on the nearest mooring when we arrived. It turns out they are only tied to it for short breaks, maybe lunch, and to wait for their turn. They drive right up to the beach and lower the ramp for loading. Their job seems to be taking giant bags of mussels that they offload from semis that arrive on the beach. They disappear from the cove for a while and then return empty for more. It seems to be a twenty-four hour operation. Even though there was plenty of room in the bay, we had the unshakable feeling of being in the way.
The reason we chose Rilán was because it offered excellent protection from the wind and rain that slashed at us all the next day. At times, it was so bad we could only see the small patch of water surrounding us, pockmarked with tiny splashes from the big drops.
A short hop to Caguache in time for sunset
The skies cleared the next morning and we had a gloriously sedate downwind all-day sail to the northeast side of Cagauche Island. Caguache's anchorage had the outstanding feature of an uninterrupted view to the east. We arrived just in time to have everything done by the time the approaching sunset started turning the snow-capped peaks of the Andes orange and then pink and then red, before fading into a background of brilliant stars.