Alejandro Selkirk, Juan Fernandez Archipelago
An overnight cruise from Robinson Crusoe brought us within early reach of Alejandro Selkirk and by 6 AM the island was a dark, cloud-capped stretch on the horizon. Bud was one of the first to join the crew on the bridge. Richard, not far behind, began calling out seabirds including a wandering albatross, making his day and the daily list. The southwest winds and swell were strong enough to challenge even the early morning departures of the classic double ended “botes” used by the lobster fishermen. We anchored and watched them begin the daily routine that keeps them and their families busy through the now seven month season when they call this remote island their home.
Our desire to land at the “caleta” was dashed by advice from the captain of the port that the likelihood of swamping our Zodiacs was too high for safe landings. We would have to forgo the walk ashore and thus leave a close look at the small community and local fauna to perhaps another visit. However, even from the decks of the ship, a circumnavigation yielded spectacular views of two million years-young landscape. Clouds parted sending down rays, illuminating the rugged canyons or “quebradas” and lighting up the three thousand foot high, tree-fern topped cliffs. Flying fish darted away from our path and the myriad seabirds, including the endemic Stejneger’s and Juan Fernandez petrels, covered the seascape, returning from a night of foraging. A couple of whales, likely minkes, crossed to port as we rounded the northern shore and Captain Skog made way over uncharted depths. We passed by the fur seal study site, Loberia Vieja, complete with its waterfalls and newly built CONAF refuge, as we set course for the continent. Even at a distance the growing fur seal population was apparent and males dotted the rocky beach, primed for a breeding season that would carry on as it has for millennia.
As we bade farewell to the island, Tato lectured on the food web of the Humboldt Current and we later heard of the cultures of the south that had come and gone or were changing in the path of immigrant forces. As his second treat of the voyage, Max introduced us to some new Chilean and Argentinean reds and whites, amusing all with references to soil, sun (and even cats) adding fertile twists to our enological lore. Our pre-dinner recap delivered a key perspective on the Islands with Kelvin’s underwater views of octopi, flying nudibranchs, nipping fishes, rampaging seastars, the all-important lobsters, and even a night dive with researchers studying them. We leave the Juan Fernandez Islands in the company of its millions of seabirds and tens of thousands of seals, knowing this rich and little known Biosphere Reserve will continue to deliver surprises for others lucky enough to come.
An overnight cruise from Robinson Crusoe brought us within early reach of Alejandro Selkirk and by 6 AM the island was a dark, cloud-capped stretch on the horizon. Bud was one of the first to join the crew on the bridge. Richard, not far behind, began calling out seabirds including a wandering albatross, making his day and the daily list. The southwest winds and swell were strong enough to challenge even the early morning departures of the classic double ended “botes” used by the lobster fishermen. We anchored and watched them begin the daily routine that keeps them and their families busy through the now seven month season when they call this remote island their home.
Our desire to land at the “caleta” was dashed by advice from the captain of the port that the likelihood of swamping our Zodiacs was too high for safe landings. We would have to forgo the walk ashore and thus leave a close look at the small community and local fauna to perhaps another visit. However, even from the decks of the ship, a circumnavigation yielded spectacular views of two million years-young landscape. Clouds parted sending down rays, illuminating the rugged canyons or “quebradas” and lighting up the three thousand foot high, tree-fern topped cliffs. Flying fish darted away from our path and the myriad seabirds, including the endemic Stejneger’s and Juan Fernandez petrels, covered the seascape, returning from a night of foraging. A couple of whales, likely minkes, crossed to port as we rounded the northern shore and Captain Skog made way over uncharted depths. We passed by the fur seal study site, Loberia Vieja, complete with its waterfalls and newly built CONAF refuge, as we set course for the continent. Even at a distance the growing fur seal population was apparent and males dotted the rocky beach, primed for a breeding season that would carry on as it has for millennia.
As we bade farewell to the island, Tato lectured on the food web of the Humboldt Current and we later heard of the cultures of the south that had come and gone or were changing in the path of immigrant forces. As his second treat of the voyage, Max introduced us to some new Chilean and Argentinean reds and whites, amusing all with references to soil, sun (and even cats) adding fertile twists to our enological lore. Our pre-dinner recap delivered a key perspective on the Islands with Kelvin’s underwater views of octopi, flying nudibranchs, nipping fishes, rampaging seastars, the all-important lobsters, and even a night dive with researchers studying them. We leave the Juan Fernandez Islands in the company of its millions of seabirds and tens of thousands of seals, knowing this rich and little known Biosphere Reserve will continue to deliver surprises for others lucky enough to come.
