Lago Blanco fishing camp, Tierra del Fuego, Chile

May 07

As much as we try not to drive at night, lately we seem to arrive at our destinations as the sun is setting or just after. This day was no different, and we arrived at Lago Blanco just past sunset. Luckily, there was still enough light to illuminate the road and we saw our first trees and forests we had yet observed on the island of Tierra del Fuego. We had quite abruptly gone from endless windswept grasslands to lush green forest. It was a good dirt road that led us down to the lake where at road’s end, in the dark, we had to decide whether to turn left or right. We decided to turn right towards the lights of what turned out to be a fishing camp. People from all over the world come here for a few days or sometimes weeks to fish for trout. We talked with one of the fishing camp caretakers, Catalina, and obtained permission to spend the night on their property. Off we went to sleep.

In the morning, we woke to a beautiful, sunny Patagonian day. The lake was still as glass with the trees and clouds reflecting perfectly into the water. We took a short walk by the lake water enjoying the peacefulness of the moment. Upon our return to the car, we were greeted by the watchman of the camp who offered us a huge trout he had just caught. I explained that I really didn’t know how to clean it. He said no problem and brought it back all ready to cook. His name was Rene and his wife Catalina were the two (and only) workers at the camp. Later, we met the only costumers, three people from Santiago, who were some of the last customers expected for the season. The camp closes for the winter at the end of April due to the arrival of snow.

We had an interesting time with Rene and Catalina, but mostly Rene. He guided us on a hike through the woods by the lake. He also showed us a huge beaver dam, as well as some of the beaver damage inflicted on the surrounding forest. Apparently, beavers are not a native species to Patagonia. They were introduced to the area for the fur trade. I’m not exactly sure what happened to the fur business, but without predators, the beavers thrived in their new environment and additionally did a lot of damage to the native forests and river systems. Well, I should say that beavers have no predators, except for Rene, and maybe a few others who hunt them. Apparently, they are quite tasty and a treat for the tourists.

Rene was amusing in his storytelling, some of which I’m sure was embellished. He told us that beavers can reach a size of 120lbs. Really, wow, that’s a really big beaver and I’d hate to meet it face to face. However, other than some minor exaggerations, Rene had interesting information, told some great stories, and answered a bunch of our questions. He also led us to an area where the beavers previously chewed down trees to create a huge beaver dam. And when I say huge, I mean huge. I didn’t know the dams could be so big, not even realizing I had been walking on top of it for some time before he stopped to explain. He seemed to think about 50 beavers lived in that area. The damage could be seen all around as only the little stubs of wood remained standing where a large (or small) tree once stood. The river was blocked up so the water no longer reached the lake. It just spread sideways flooding the surrounding forest, not that much forest remained.

On our hike, Rene also introduced us to Patagonian strawberries. Or at least that’s what he called them, but to me they looked like tiny raspberries that grew very low to the ground. We have a sneeking suspicion that “frutilla” (strawberry) is actually the local word for “frambuesa” (rasberry) in this part of Patagonia. Whatever they were, they were delicious but very hard to see. If you weren’t looking for them, you probably wouldn’t see them. However, we found a few from our slow, patient search. Running our hands through the dirt and leaves was rewarded with the occasional, sweet find. These berries were also hard to find because there were not many left, as we had stiff competition from the foxes and guanacos. For about an hour, we felt like grazing animals; crouched on the ground searching for the elusive berries.

Our quick little hike turned into a two hour guided tour around Lago Blanco. Unfortunately, it ended back at the fishing camp with Rene’s spontaneous attack on a cute and unsuspecting weasel. Turns out weasels kill trout and therefore are destructive creatures and a threat to the camp. It was just after I said “Ah, look Chad, a cute ferret or something is over there” that Rene hurled his walking stick at the unsuspecting weasel. Well, what proceeded next I’m not super clear on, because, I was super not interested since it seemed that Rene’s new objective was to kill the weasel. He devised a way of catching the weasel by baiting it with a trout and using a snare. It is my pleasure to say that the weasel “weaseled” his way out of the snare twice over the course of a two hour hunt and as far as I know was alive and well when we left.

So ended our adventures with Rene at the fishing camp. We really enjoyed our time there and appreciate Rene showing us around. Aside from wanting to kill pretty much everything he saw, he was a really nice guy! We said our goodbyes to everyone including a noteworthy fat, orange and white cat who looked a lot like our cat back home - Hissy. We jumped back in Mango and headed for the border.