GULF OF SORROWS | A Gruelling Offshore Passage Through Patagonia [Ep.3]

We're on a voyage to the southernmost tip of the continent. Of all the miles ahead, there is one stretch we've been dreading that some say can be even worse than Cape Horn. This is the first crux of our Patagonia voyage. The seas here can be quite nasty. Its reputation goes back centuries, with one of the most harrowing tales of survival and mutiny in maritime history, when a British warship called the Wager was wrecked on its shores. Nearly 300 years later, these waters are still well known for hardships and sorrows. Good morning. It's 5 30 a.m. We've just woken up and are getting underway. Puerto Aguirre was still asleep when we slipped our lines, and so were we. Ahead of us was a grueling offshore passage that we had been dreading for days. We readied the sails to slip out into the early morning mist. Just getting underway here from Puerto Aguirre. Sails are up. A little bit of wind. 10 knots out of the northwest. We'll see what happens as the morning progresses. The sun's just coming up so who knows what the day will hold really but we've got a couple of miles to make so that we can get around the Gulf of the Peñas. And you probably need some coffee. I probably need some coffee so I can pronounce my Spanish locations correctly. Good morning, Denny. Beautiful morning. We're going and we left at 6 48. Well on our way now. We're at 5.48 if you say 6.48. It's not even 6.48 yet. Meet Dennis Oman, my stepdad. Captain and non-coffee drinker. And first mate Barbara, my mom. We were now a week into our voyage, sailing with them aboard their Shannon 37 Landfall. Heading south. Heading for the ocean. Shouldn't get close today. Close to the ocean, spend the night, and then we head out across the Gulf tomorrow. Since leaving Port-au-Mont, we'd been weaving our way through the more protected waterways along the coast. A series of scenic channels and fjords. Today, we'd make our way out towards the open ocean, to stage ourselves for the crossing out around the Cape and into the Gulf. A serious offshore passage that would require an ideal weather window. You have to really time it because the wind separates and bears north and then bears south along Patagonia. So it's kind of our first crux. In order to reach the heart of Patagonia, its most remote and rugged coastline, we'd first have to face the wrath of this stretch of water. Here, enormous swells from the Southern Ocean collide with wind-driven waves from the north. Leaving the sea steep, confused, and unpredictable. The Gulf of the Peñas has a pretty notorious reputation. You definitely want to catch it on a good weather window. And we think we have that for the next 48 hours. Shallow water near the coast means boats have to head well offshore. And once you're out there, there is no place to hide. Weather systems roll through here every few days. So timing is everything. Get it right and it's a long uncomfortable passage. Get it wrong and you start to understand how this place earned its reputation. The crossing should take us two to three days and the swell forecast is looking all right. We'll have wind on the rear quarter 10 to 15 knots at least that's what's forecasted. The gusts not much more than that so should be a good crossing and so far it's been a lovely start to the day so wish us luck. We'd need a sturdy boat, solid planning, and a healthy dose of good luck. Every now and then a rainbow would break through the mist, and we decided to take that as a good omen. It also helps to have good crew on board, and we were in experienced hands. Mom and Dennis had made the crossing before. Oh yeah, twice. Once going south and once coming north. That was the last time. Going south was not great because our autopilot didn't like it and we had to sit out in the cockpit and it was pouring rain and drizzly and wet and we didn't get to our anchorage until it was pitch black and that wasn't any fun but we did it. Any nervousness about this trip? The weather looks good, there's lots of boats going so they all know it's a weather window. I think we have about three other boats besides ourselves that are heading out so we'll probably be the last ones but that's okay. And the sun is out, it's coming out, so it's beautiful. For a few hours, Patagonia gave us ideal conditions, and we made the most of it sailing downwind through the channels. We were feeling eager to get there, but a little uneasy too. We hoped for a good night's rest. Tomorrow, we'd find out what the Gulf of the Peñas had in store. James and I are on cooking duty today so we're trying to prep a bunch of stuff before we get offshore and the sea gets really lumpy so we're having a bit of a marathon here in the galley prepping some stuff for the next 24 hours of meals. We are making some breakfast skillets, some ramen, we got a quinoa salad on the go, some chorizo, potatoes, eggs, all the good stuff. It was another early start pushing out through the channels towards open water in order to catch our weather window. This quinoa salad recipe is a good one because you can eat it cold, sort of like a Mexican salad. Or you can heat it and have it in a warm bowl. Having meals ready ahead of time would pay off. Nobody would have to brave the galley and risk seasickness. And with someone almost always asleep on passage, you could grab a bite without clattering pots and pans next to a sleeping crew member. Good crew, good boat, we're all set. A well-cared-for crew is just as important as a well-cared-for ship. And heading out into this stretch of water, both would be put to the test. Well we're just starting to feel the roll of the open ocean here. This is the first crux of our Patagonia voyage heading out into open waters. For the past 10 days or so we've been heading down through an inside passage so to speak. This is our first time heading out into the South Pacific and feeling the swell out here. And she's a little lumpy and rolly this morning. This thing that we're trying to get around is actually quite shallow. We're sitting at about 160 feet deep. And the swells seem to be bouncing off all little islands and islets, kind of just making for a little bit of a confused and choppy sea state. The wind's starting to fill in. We've got like 10 to 12 knots coming in from the northwest this morning. It's meant to build throughout the day steadily right to around 15 to 20, which should be perfect conditions once we round the next point and we can point our bow south and start heading down and around into the Gulf. Hopefully we can get on a better angle with the swells at that point. Because at the moment, we've just got to, you know, Grip the wheel, hang on and try not to get seasick. It's a bit lumpy out of the gate, pretty shallow here so the waves are stacking up on the sea floor. We're all out in the cockpit getting some fresh air, keeping our eyes on the horizon. It's a you know quite a transition going from the protected inside passages to being out in these big southern swells. Yeah it's been some time since we've been out like in unprotected waters Really like we sailed a winter a little bit down the outside up in Alaska. but really it's been since we were on landfall last time crossing the Tasman that we've seen any significant ocean swells and the swells coming out of the Southern Ocean are just way bigger than anything else. with the winds still light the sails alone weren't enough to keep us moving through the swell so we kept the engine running. the sails help to steady the boat and ease the roll while the engine keeps our speed up to push through the waves. They kind of roll out of the south and they're the really big ones at a wider period and then we're getting some northwesterly swell from the predominant wind at the moment that's bringing in shorter closer period waves and at almost like a 90 degree intersection with them which makes for these really kind of lumpy lumpy things to roll over. That's one of the hard things about the Gulf here is like predominantly the swell catches and comes up from Antarctica but most of the time the offshore breezes bring in swell that like then causes them to cross and then ride up into the shallows much like out in the Bay of Biscay. Just gotta sit back and try to work your way through it all. Quite confident we're not going to get seasick but then you never really know so I just put on a scopolamine patch just in case it would be really sucky to be Seasick and basically immobilized on this trip, so. If you've never been seasick, you'll have to take my word for it. It's completely miserable. It's not just nausea, but total exhaustion that makes even the simplest tasks feel impossible. On a small boat, there's no escaping the motion. So we do everything we can to stay ahead of it. So far, so good. Crew's feeling well and got the sails out. So it's going good. Doing anything on passage is hard going. Mostly you're wedged into one spot, braced against the motion. Eyes on the horizon to keep your stomach in check. Filming is a whole other challenge, and no matter how hard we try, the camera never seems to capture the size of the swell. It's hard to do the ocean justice. Done an overnight sail in quite some time as well so it'll be really nice to be at sea for a good 36 hours to make this crossing. Maybe a little bit longer depending on how fast we go. Really excited to get across because the gulf here is kind of like the gateway to the wildness of Patagonia. North of here is a lot more populated, there's a lot more salmon areas, a lot more fishing boats and people just running around towns but once you get past the gulf There's only really one town along the main channel until you get all the way south to Puerto Williams which is really neat. So once you get around this area it'll be straight into wilderness cruising and I'm pretty excited about that to go check out what Patagonia is all about. Getting to the good stuff meant crossing a stretch of water with a long history of hardship. In the 1700s a British warship, the HMS Wager, set out as part of an expedition to raid Spanish shipping in the Pacific. After a brutal rounding of Cape Horn, battered by storms and with much of her crew suffering from scurvy, the wager became separated from the rest of the fleet. The Chilean coastline was remote and poorly charted, and sailors had no reliable way to determine longitude, so the crew had little idea just how close they were to land. A vicious gale drove them deep into the gulf and towards They tried desperately to claw their way back out to sea. But the ship was badly damaged, and there was too few healthy men left to sail her. On the morning of May 14th, 1741, she struck submerged rocks off an island now known as Wager Island, just one of the many sorrows this gulf is named for. The captain has gone to bed and he's left the crew in charge, which is questionable decision making. But wind has finally filled in from the northwest. We've got a nice consistent 15 knots now and Landfall's just cruising along at six knots. We are buckling in for safety because we're offshore. This thing stops you from going overboard a lot easier because you are shackled to the deck. We've got jack lines that run both sides on Landfall. This thing clips the harness on. Oh god, gotta do it. That one. And you got two cables, one on one jack line, and then you can clip onto another jack line before unclipping so that you're always tethered to the boat at some point. We've got a very nice preventer line here that we're going to go forward and go rig up. It's a block and tackle. I think it was like four to one purchase on it, but it really helps to tie the boom down securely. So we're going to go rig that up now. A preventer secures the boom holding it firmly in place. Less banging and slamming means less strain on the boat and critical parts of the rig you can't afford to lose out here. Because as the Wager's crew found out, without a working ship there's no clawing your way off a lee shore. We'd done everything we could to prepare but sometimes a safe passage still comes down to good old-fashioned luck. Maybe that's why sailors have always been a superstitious bunch. Dolphins are believed to guide ships safely through dangerous waters. First the rainbows, and now this? We'd take all the good omens we could get. What is it about dolphins that puts us at ease? Maybe it's the feeling of not being so alone out here, or maybe it's how playful they are. A reminder to enjoy the ride. Whatever it is, for a moment the Gulf of Sorrows was a happier place. 1600 update. The wind has increased. It's now sitting steady at 20, 22 knots, gusting into the mid to high 20s. I think the highest we've seen is 28 knots, but hasn't quite hit 30 yet. We took the full main down and we tied in the second reef. The Yankee, still out, and we're just flipping along. Apparently doing 7 knots. The sea state, not quite sure what's going on with it exactly. It's still kind of confused, but it's seemingly more mellow now that we're out in deeper water. Quite a bit nicer. It's a lot more comfortable which is good. Had some dolphins on the bow. Those guys played around with us for like about half an hour or so. Always feels like a particularly good blessing when the dolphins come to play with the sailboat. It's kind of foggy everywhere. Lost sight of land a long time ago. Can't see anything. It's just an endless horizon of grey. Starting to get hungry. But yeah we're making good time. Should be down in the Gulf sometime after dark I think. The sea was calm by the Gulf standards, but it certainly wasn't a comfortable ride. With bouts of seasickness to contend with, we were very glad we'd prepped food ahead of time. So we're just gonna have some nice ginger enriched ramen for those of us who are feeling a little queasy. Ginger, shiitake, onion, carrots, peppers, some gochujang, dashi. It's gonna be fantastic. We're just going to whip together a quick little stock and then we'll boil some noodles, toss it all together. We prepped some ramen eggs earlier when it was still nice and calm so they are ready to go. That should be a nice little meal. Jane's keeping it together down in the galley was a feat of super sailor strength. Despite the conditions, he whipped up the tastiest, most beautiful bowl of ramen these waters have probably ever seen. Maybe Australians have iron stomachs. Either way, we were all very grateful to have one on board. By evening, we were closing in on the Cape. Headlines like this have a way of stirring things up. The wind bends around and accelerates, and we were feeling its influence. And with dusk approaching, we were growing a little nervous about our night offshore. The wind is building. It's steadily increasing. The forecast did call for kind of like you know that lovely greenish yellowish color that usually means 10 to 15. However we're seeing upwards of 22 knots gusting into the low well high 20s. So yeah a little bit more than forecasted so hopefully it doesn't continue to build too much. Definitely getting more seas coming from the north colliding with seas from the south so getting lumpier. A little a little bit more confused. More wind, less sail, so we reefed down and lowered Landfall's swing keel. The extra keel gives the boat more grip in the water, so she tracks straighter, rolls less, and settles in for the ride. And Landfall's handling much more comfortably now. We did bury the rails once, but yeah she's just cruising along. The fog felt heavy like a wet blanket. There'd be no stars tonight. We settled in for what promised to be an uncomfortable ride. Somewhere out there in the mist lay the island where the wager met her end, her crew stranded and at the mercy of the elements. Nearly 300 years later we were sailing straight for those same shores, with the wind at our backs and a long night ahead. The wind kind of backed off for a while so we shook all the reefs out and we've got full main back up, Yankee still flying forward, we're running wind on the rear quarter, kind of 12 to 15 knots at the moment. At some point we'll swap out. and we'll get a few hours sleep. We're still just cruising almost due south at the moment just rounding the end of the peninsula and hopefully by daybreak we should be well and truly into the gulf. The sea state has really mellowed out which has been super nice. I was definitely feeling a little bit seasick earlier but um yeah seemed to have acclimatized so that's good. Yeah we bounced back quick on the ocean. Yeah, misty night, not much in the way of stars, so we're just hanging out in the cockpit, got our full valets on, puppies, base layers, and we're just keeping each other company. That's it, I'm just going to keep on riding this roller coaster in the dark. All right, well, signing off, maybe we'll check in later in the night. Yeah, we'll keep you updated if anything changes, but apart from that, we're just sitting back and doing very much the same as this. All right, good night guys. Good night. Well, this about sums up the night. The first 24 hours of an offshore passage always hits hard. The constant motion and noise make proper sleep almost impossible. You end up in this strange dreamlike state. Not quite awake, not quite sleeping, just existing. Down below, the cabin told the rest of the story. The boat's such a mess. Everything's like hanging everywhere, trying to dry, just trying to keep stuff out of everybody's way. Keep the usable areas of the boat usable and try to make ourselves have as much personal space as we can while we get through this day of transit. It is pretty lumpy at the moment. I just woke up from a nap. I've been hanging out here in the junk up in the V-Bus. Al is still taking a bit of a snooze. She's resting. We've got about 20 nautical miles to go. We're just kind of entering the mouth of Canal Mézières. We've got to go find ourselves an anchorage. It looks like it's going to be a stern tie tonight. We've got about 20 nautical miles to do, so we should be in there about four hours arriving 6.30, 7 o'clock. Should be good. We can all get tucked in for the night, have a nice warm meal and hit the hay because I think everybody's a little bit beat after the last day and a half of crossing. But I think we have successfully made it around the Gulf of the Penins. It's very, very exciting because now we're in straight into the heart of Patagonia from here on out, getting into the big mountains, all the ice, all the fun stuff. Very, very excited to share it with you all. But oh, there's no dressing it up. It was cold, wet and pretty miserable. And this was the Gulf on a good day. We'd hate to see it on a bad one, but we considered ourselves pretty lucky. The Wager's crew were marooned just a few miles from here, starving and with no rescue coming, eventually turning on each other. We had weather models, modern navigation, and vitamin C. And we hadn't turned on each other. Yet. Good morning. It's about 0900. And we are back on watch. Slept pretty well overnight, all things considered. James and I had to put the reef in around midnight or shortly thereafter before we tucked in for the night and Dennis and Barb took watch. We woke up around six and conditions are holding steady pretty well. We've got 20 knots of wind gusting in the low 20s to reef in the main. And we've got a pretty decent following sea. It's a little bit confused but they're more or less pushing us in the direction we want to go and we're making good time about six knots more than that when we're surfing down waves and we are happy because it looks like we might be arriving before dark so that is just one overnight on this passage and we're pretty happy about that. Everyone's feeling a little bit tired I think it usually takes about three days to settle into a passage and on this On this voyage we only get one, so we get to experience it and then go back into the inside passage where we'll be in protected waters and it will be smooth seas again. So a couple more hours here and then we'll probably switch out, my mom and stepdad, and we'll finish this thing off. But it looks like the wind is going to hold for the next few hours, so it's good. Definitely feeling a little sleep deprived this morning. Got woken up at about five quarter past five when we jibed and we didn't have the lee cloths in so I kind of like hit the table and woke up abruptly. Went and put myself back to bed in the v-berth which was comfortable. Oh I've been thinking more about my Spanish and Originally this gulf was called gulf of the artichokes because of the artichoke shaped hills but at some point once and when the Chileans were like re-copying the chart somebody had written on it gulf of the penis. Penis? Something like that and I always thought it referred to the phallic shape of the peninsula you know. Turns out I looked it up in Spanish and it actually means hardship. So what they were saying is this gulf sucks and it's really hard and that makes totally more sense, you know, just north of where we are back up in British Columbia, we have Cape Caution, which is also like a, you know, mariner's joke to the other mariners. You've got to beware going around that one. And I feel like, you know seafaring culture is really similar across the world in a lot of ways and in that sense somebody said nah they named this one it's not about artichokes it's about hardship guys it's really about hardship and you know this is considered to be like the perfect window for crossing and it's pretty bloody tough so i'd hate to see it out here when it's actually nasty The Gulf of Sorrows, or Hardship, aptly named for the widows it's left behind, the families of fishermen and sailors who never made it home. A reputation this gulf has certainly earned, and we were about ready for it to be over. We held our course for Wager Island, hoping to anchor there for some rest. Then, through the mist and the rain, we spotted it. Hazy and dreamlike, a lot like how we felt. Relieved doesn't quite cover it. A flat-calm anchorage, the heater on, a chance to dry out. For the Wager's crew, this is where everything fell apart. For us, it was the end of a long hard passage. Wet and a little worse for wear, the worst of it we hoped was behind us. And ahead, the wild heart of Patagonia. Our buddy boats had made it ahead of us and already tucked into nearby coves. So we ventured a little further to scope out a safe nook of our own. The plotter showed us traversing over land which said a lot about the accuracy of the charts around here. Later we'd celebrate. Cheers. Cheers. But first it was time to tie up Patagonia style. It's a pretty deep anchorage so the boys are just setting up some stern lines so that we can tuck ourselves in here. How do you feel about crossing the Gulf of the Penis? Oh man, Gulf of Hardship, how low. It's good though, we're here. It was a little lumpy but we had pretty good consistent wind the whole way which was great. We arrived just before nightfall which means we maintained at least a five knot average. I actually do like 150 or something in two days, 36 hours. I'll have to double check the numbers. Max wind we've seen was like gusts in the high 20s. Apart from that we're sitting usually like 15 to 22 all yesterday afternoon overnight and then this morning and now it's just bucketing rain. It's a torrential. You can tell it's Patagonia when it's bucketing rain, there's wind all the time, and you've got stern lines out. Cheers. We're in Patagonia, on the other side of the gulf. Now we're down here in the wilderness, so cheers to that. Cheers to that, before it begins. We were in Patagonia proper now, wet, windy, and wild, feeling elated to be here, but in this moment, mostly relieved to have the passage behind us. The gulf certainly lives up to its reputation but we were happy it took it easy on us this time. Cheers to a warm cabin and dry socks, we'd be sleeping so good tonight. Next time we take a detour even further off the beaten path, deeper into the fjords to a remote town built entirely on boardwalks. But the weather has its own plans and a serious gale is on its way. We need to find somewhere to hunker down and fast. If you'd like to watch the next episode early along with behind the scenes content, you can join our crew over on Patreon or right here on YouTube through memberships. A huge thank you to everyone already supporting us. These films truly wouldn't happen without you. Thanks for watching everyone. Don't forget to subscribe and we'll see you in the next one. Cheers