Cruise in Patagonia and Tierra del Fuego over Cape Horn

Patagonia is the dream destination for many at the end of the world. I also had a long-standing desire to come here and explore this wild land between the Atlantic and Pacific.

Here you will find ancient rainforests, giant glaciers, rugged mountain ranges with waterfalls, vast pampas, mysterious fjords, and, from time to time, breathtaking rainbows.

These fjords are exactly what I wanted to explore in Patagonia. You can't get there by car; instead, you need to take one of two expedition ships from the only provider, Australis (view offers here).

Thus, we spent the end of our 5-week journey (view the Chile-Argentina travel report) on the ship. For five days (four nights), we sailed through the fjords of Patagonia: from Ushuaia (Tierra del Fuego, Argentina) around Cape Horn to Punta Arenas (Patagonia, Chile).

What we experienced here weren't just breathtaking landscapes and calm seas; there were also fierce winds and strong waves. The sea currents are particularly treacherous around Cape Horn, and that's what makes this expedition cruise so special.

Day 1: From Ushuaia to Cape Horn

Day 2: Cape Horn and Wulaia Bay

Day 3: Pía Glacier - Garibaldi Glacier

Day 4: Agostini Sound - Águila Glacier and Cóndor Glacier

Day 5: Magellanic Penguins on Isla de Magdalena and disembarking in Punta Arenas

Our adventure begins in Ushuaia. 'El Fin del Mundo' - the end of the world, as the small city at the southernmost tip of Argentina advertises. It is also advertised that most expedition voyages to Antarctica start from Ushuaia. I'm not surprised, as nowhere else can you be so close to Antarctica (about 1,000 km, according to the penguins in town). Only the treacherous Drake Passage and 2-3 travel days separate Ushuaia from Antarctica.

When we arrive at the port, it turns out that of six research ships docked, five are headed for Antarctica. Only our Ventus Australis has a different route: the remote fjords and glaciers of Patagonia. It is pouring rain, and dark rain clouds hang over the mountains of Tierra del Fuego.

So we hurry into the ship after passing through customs. We are welcomed by the crew and check in, handing over our passports (this is standard on ships since we cross the border between Argentina and Chile) and settling into our cabin on deck 2 of the not-even-a-year-old ship.

The cabin is very spacious, bright, and has oversized panoramic windows that enhance the ambiance. Even the bathroom is, in comparison to other cruise ships, quite large. I'm delighted and glad I get the window-side bed.

We don't stay here long, as we catch our last glimpses of the rain-clouded Ushuaia and the Tierra del Fuego National Park from deck.

The rain stops, and the sun warms the cool air with its last rays of the day. We even get to enjoy a rainbow that stretches completely across the horizon and sinks into the sea. What a farewell to Argentina!

We go to the Sky Bar, where the captain welcomes the guests on board. He explains the route and what awaits us in the coming days before he bids farewell and we set sail.

As we depart, the sun slowly sets. We leave the bright lights of Ushuaia behind, heading toward the legendary Cape Horn.

During the three-course dinner with Chilean wine, our new table neighbors discuss one topic: Can we go ashore at Cape Horn tomorrow morning? We don't know. The weather forecast is good, but what can a forecast really tell us about Cape Horn?

As I lie in bed, we leave the Beagle Channel and head towards Cape Horn. In the distance, the lights of Ushuaia glow dimly. The sea seems calm; I hardly notice that I'm on a ship.

Suddenly, I sit upright in bed. Where am I and why is it so loud? Waves are crashing against the bow of the now not-so-calm sea. We are in a storm, and the wind is tossing the ship up and down. It is only 12:30 AM.

The waves are only 2-3 meters high, but the wind is whipping across the sea at 100 km/h. This throws the ship back and forth. Susi is sitting upright in bed next to me with sleepy eyes. She tiredly remarks, 'The Drake Passage isn't much worse!' - Great, I think. Off to Antarctica we go.

Around 3:30 AM, it slowly gets light. I didn't expect to experience the early sunrise at the panoramic window on the first night (unintentionally).

After what feels like a sleepless night (I keep sitting up to stare at the sea), the alarm goes off at 6 AM, and I jump up relieved! Coffee and sandwiches are ready.

My actual highlight of the trip. Who doesn't dream of going ashore at the infamous Cape Horn at least once in their life? Cabo de Hornos sounds like an adventure. Or is it just the thought of having arrived at such an extraordinary, remote place?

The dreams of many sailors and adventurers have been shattered here. The waters are known to be the largest ship graveyard in the world. Over 800 ships are said to have sunk or collided with the cliffs of the island. More than 10,000 sailors perished here.

There isn't enough space on nautical charts to depict all the shipwrecks. All of them are marked. I'm not afraid; curiosity prevails. How does it feel to walk on the southernmost piece of land in the world?

Susi, my travel blogger friend and companion, had bad luck on two previous visits. Would the third time be the charm?

So we grab our life jackets, cameras and dress warmly. We are ready!

Around 7 AM, we anchor off the bay near Cape Horn, where we might be able to land. The water looks calm, the sun is shining, sparkling over the Albatross monument with a noticeable crack in the middle: This is Cape Horn.

I spot a small beach and a long steep staircase leading up. At the top stands a small house with a large Chilean flag painted on its side. Behind it is the lighthouse and a small house where the lighthouse keeper and his family live. A wooden walkway leads to the monument on the right. Will we get to walk it?

The first zodiac is launched. I watch the crew during the attempt. When they abort the mission and bring the zodiac back on board, it becomes clear to me: The first attempt to reach Cape Horn has failed.

Shortly after, the announcement rings out that although the wind is okay, the waves at 2 meters high are too high to board the zodiac. We wait, take photos, and I examine the islands around Cape Horn more closely.

Did I picture it this way? In my mind, there was only one, not numerous small islands. Cape Horn consists of an island archipelago and is protected as a national park. The islands are partly made up of rugged cliffs and are covered with lush green grass.

The sea sparkles turquoise, and suddenly a penguin pokes its head out of the water, only to disappear just as fast.

What many don't know: Cape Horn (or Cabo de Hornos) is an island archipelago and national park, and with a bit of luck, you can land on the southernmost island, the actual cape.

At 8:15 AM, we have confirmation: The attempt to land has failed. The waves are too high. Moreover, a black wall is approaching from the south. Thunderstorms. We set off and aim for our next destination: Wulaia Bay.

After breakfast, we lay back in bed to catch up on some of the sleep deficit.

At 12 PM, we have the opportunity to visit the captain and his crew on the bridge. Of course, we take this opportunity. We see the still fresh nautical chart for Cape Horn, where the numbers and calculations are recorded in pencil.

Those who navigate around Cape Horn do not rely on modern technology: the navigation is done manually and by hand.

We use the time until we reach Wulaia Bay and rest a little from the short night.

Around 3 PM, we reach the historic Wulaia Bay. The sea lies calm before us, and disembarking with zodiacs should not be a problem this time.

Caleta Wulaia (Caleta is Spanish for Bay) is a historically important place, as it was once the largest settlement of the indigenous people of Tierra del Fuego, the Yámana Indians (also known as Yagan or Yaghan). Charles Darwin went ashore here during his voyage on the HMS Beagle with Captain Fitz Roy in 1833. Darwin's task was to map and research the region.

Fitz Roy attempted to evangelize the Yámana Indians, who were mercilessly hunted at that time. Those who didn't die in battle succumbed to one of the diseases introduced by settlers. Today, the Yagan people are extinct. This chapter represents a very dark aspect of Chilean history that is often overlooked.

However, what can still be seen today is an abandoned radio station of the Chilean military, which Australis has taken over and set up a small information center about the history of the Yagan and the researchers.

Reconstructed Yagan tents behind the museum can also be viewed.

But first, we embark on a small, not very demanding hike uphill (duration about 1 hour). After 14 days of hiking in Patagonia, this kind of ascent poses no problems for us. We walk through the forest until we reach a viewpoint with a view of the Ventus Australis and Wulaia Bay.

On the way up, we are shown plants and fruits, as well as the endemic false beech, Magellanic evergreen beech, and Antarctic false beech. We are in a sub-Antarctic rainforest. The region belongs to Darwin's mountain range of the Andes, ensconced within a 150 km long ice field.

In southern Patagonia, Magellanic tundra meets Magellanic forest and Magellanic rainforest, representing three climate zones. Sounds quite impressive to us.

Additionally, we hear once again the story of the Calafate berries: Whoever eats them will return. We'll see.

At the end, there's warm hot chocolate, optionally with whiskey. ¡Salute!

After another three-course dinner, accompanied by Chilean wine, we watch a documentary about the wildlife of Tierra del Fuego. We then fall into bed, exhausted.

Today we will visit two glaciers: Pía Glacier and Garibaldi Glacier. On our way to them, we pass the so-called 'Avenue of Glaciers' - but when the alarm goes off at 6 AM and I look out the panoramic window, I see nothing but fog and mist. My eyes are heavy, so I stay in bed.

Later, we cross the main arm of the Beagle Channel and enter Pía Bay. Isolated chunks of ice float past us. Even before breakfast, we go to the top deck to observe the entrance.

We then go ashore at the namesake Pía Glacier. We are taken across by zodiacs and begin a one-hour ascent (I wouldn't call it a hike) to several viewpoints where we see the fjord and Pía Glacier from different perspectives.

The path is muddy and a bit steep. Since the ascent is short, it is doable for everyone (note that we chose the most difficult level; it seems that the average guests on board are not the sportiest).

Upon reaching the top, we are rewarded with an excellent view of the glacier that pushes into the sea. We see the ship down below, tiny among the ice blocks.

To listen to nature and the cracking of the glacier, we take a 'Patagonia Moment,' as our guide Auguste calls it: We remain silent for a minute and don't move. Because our outdoor clothes (most of us wear rain pants) rustle when we move.

Afterward, I climb up a small rock and get a view of a glacial lagoon on the back side of the mountain.

Now we must slowly head back, but not without stopping at the foot of the glacier at water level. I sit there and enjoy the view. We belong to the last group to return on board.

In the afternoon, we head towards the Garibaldi Fjord on the southern coast of Tierra del Fuego. On either side, an impressive ancient rainforest shines in the most beautiful green and yellow tones. Waterfalls tumble into the depths in between.

Here, we could participate in a hike in the Patagonian rainforest, but we would have to disembark without catching a glimpse of the glacier. We opt not to; these glaciers fascinate me too much.

The best part: The captain not only steers towards the Garibaldi Glacier, but we also get very close to its calving front. From the outside deck, we get to enjoy this ride and have the best view of the Garibaldi Glacier.

The calving zone resembles a wall of ice as you approach closely. I have been in front of these giants many times during my long trip and marveled at them. It's the same here.

I'm spellbound and can't look away. A larger piece of ice could break off at any second, and I want to witness this event. You can't get enough of it. Every time there is a huge crash, and ice thunders into the sea, I freeze and forget to press the shutter. Still, I take these memories home with me.

Eventually, however, it is time: We turn around and leave the Garibaldi Fjord.

We pass the time until dinner with another fascinating presentation about the Strait of Magellan. I'm genuinely interested in the story of the exploration and diligently take notes on tips for the region we're given.

After dinner, we don't want to go to bed yet and watch a documentary about South Georgia. As a result, I now not only want to go to Antarctica but also take the 'Extended Version' with South Georgia. I'm already starting to save...

Early in the morning, we navigate through the Cockburn Channel and turn into Agostini Sound. From here, we see glaciers emerging from the center of the Darwin Cordillera. Many of them reach down to the sea.

We have arrived at Agostini National Park. However, the scenic beauty of the mountains and glaciers is mostly hidden by clouds and pouring rain.

After a quick breakfast, it's time to wear rain pants, wind and rain jackets, scarves, and hats, grab life jackets, and head to the deck to wait for our zodiac assignments. It is 5 degrees Celsius, which is not even that cold for the southernmost Patagonia and Tierra del Fuego.

Once we go ashore, we start a short hike along the lagoon of the Águila Glacier. The glacier lies in thick fog. Will the weather improve?

On the opposite shore is a mix of algae and rainforest. But we turn our backs to it.

The hike is short and leisurely, and to experience our 'Patagonia Moment' again, we take a small detour through an ancient rainforest that very few people have probably entered to date.

As we leave the moss-covered dense forest, there's only a short distance left until we stand directly in front of the glacier. The rain lessens its intensity, so I can take a few pictures of the cloudy Águila Glacier without having to constantly clean my lens.

As we head back to the boat, the clouds part for a brief moment. The glacier impressively reflects in the lagoon, and due to the gloomy weather, everything seems a bit mystical.

After lunch and a presentation about Magellanic Penguins and their home on Isla Magdalena (which we will visit tomorrow), we are ready for the last glacier of the trip in the afternoon.

In zodiac boats, we now approach the calving front of the Cóndor Glacier at the end of the fjord. It is rare to get this close in a small boat, as this endeavor can be dangerous.

The glacier should not be too active, and ideally, during our stay, no large ice chunks should calve (the term used for breaking off ice). This could trigger a larger wave and leave us less safe in the zodiacs. The water is bitter cold; nobody wishes to fall in.

But that's exactly what we want: Large chunks of ice crashing loudly into the water. Unfortunately, the Cóndor Glacier doesn't oblige (only small ice pieces break off), but I once again realize how fascinated I am by these glaciers. The structures of the ice, the cracks, and the different shades in which the ice glows are wonderful.

By the way, the glacier is named after the Andean condors that nest on the steep cliffs of the fjord and wait there when they're not out hunting. Unfortunately, since it continues to rain, we don't get to see any of these impressive animals.

I feel a bit sad and nostalgic as we turn around and leave the fjord towards the Ventus Australis. This will be our last evening on the expedition ship.

The captain gives a farewell speech, the nautical chart for Cape Horn is auctioned off among the passengers, and the captain invites us to the Captain's Dinner.

As we prepare for it, a storm suddenly brews out of nowhere. We are back in the Strait of Magellan, and it lives up to its notorious name. The outer deck and bars are closed, glasses crash and clink from tables, and in general, you should only move around the ship if at least one hand is on the railing. You feel like a staggering drunk.

I, meanwhile, lie on my bed during this 'action,' watching the ship's rising and falling movements from the panoramic window, against which waves and sprays crash repeatedly. What happens outside our cabin is told to me by Susi excitedly as she excitedly joins me at the panoramic window. Since I have no problem with seasickness, I find the up-and-down very amusing (except at night, as I would also like to sleep, haha).

For the first time during this 5-day trip, right before sunset, the clouds part, and we experience one of the most beautiful and cliché sunsets you can imagine. It is now past 10 PM, and with a touch of melancholy, we take our leave from this beautiful piece of earth.

Today, we have to get up early once again. But for me, today it's no problem because we're headed to my favorite animals, the penguins!

I'm already very excited and stand on deck before 7 AM, camera and life jacket in hand, waiting for the zodiac landing.

The weather conditions are good, which means: We can go!

The island in the Strait of Magellan is home to a huge colony of Magellanic penguins. During a walk along a marked circular path, we can observe them.

'Penguins always have priority here!' - that's the motto, and so we each start our visit separately.

'Always keep your distance and don't lie on the ground to photograph, because the penguins have fleas!' Oh dear, I had visited their counterparts in South Africa several times but never thought these cute creatures could be infested with fleas. I push that detail aside and kneel down on the path to observe the penguins at eye level.

Because: We have a maximum of one hour with these adorable creatures. If a storm brews (which happens here often), we swiftly must return to the walkway and back to the ship. Time is never enough. It never is, whether with penguins, gorillas, or on safaris in Africa.

I love watching the penguins waddle, splash, and chill. They are just too adorable.

Unfortunately, it is also alarming here (as with their counterparts in South Africa) that their numbers are rapidly declining. They are endangered.

I could watch penguins waddling, flopping, building nests, courting, brooding, bathing, stumbling, and trumpeting for hours.

Yet, as expected, after nearly an hour, we receive the instruction to board the ship again. The wind is picking up. I realize that this is my last highlight in two beautiful countries. I know I will return.

But our journey should not end so abruptly after all.

Disembarking in Punta Arenas, or: In Patagonia, the sense of time is different. Making plans is difficult because things can always change.

Nearly two hours later and much earlier than planned, we arrive in Punta Arenas. But just as we are getting up and organizing our last things, the announcement comes: We cannot enter the harbor. The reason? The wind and current are too strong.

Excuse me? To my eyes, the sea is calm, the sun is shining, and my feelings seem completely different than those of the experienced sailors on board. 'Katrin, go outside and you will feel the wind,' they said. Said and done.

I don't get far because as soon as I stand in the wind, I'm pushed back. Wow, what a force. I realize that the winds are far too strong. Therefore, our entry into the harbor has, for the time being, failed.

We get pilots and two tugboats to help push us toward the harbor against the wind wall. This also initially fails. It is now time for lunch, and the kitchen crew prepares an unexpected meal for us passengers.

After several hours (it is now 3:30 PM), we finally enter the harbor and anchor in Punta Arenas. Thankfully, we booked our flight back to Santiago de Chile for the evening. There will be no free afternoon in Punta Arenas because we quickly head to the airport, where we meet other passengers who missed their first flight.

Today, we have gained yet another exciting and thrilling experience! And that's exactly why I love to travel.

Cruceros Australis is the only provider of 5-day expedition cruises through southern Patagonia and Tierra del Fuego. There are two routes, operated by two ships: Stella Australis and the new sister ship Ventus Australis, on which we took the tour.

According to their statements, Australis complies with national and international environmental protection regulations.

Most passengers are somewhat older, but surprisingly many people between 30-50 were on board.

There are two excursions, lectures, and documentaries daily.

Difficulty of the excursions: Since predominantly 'older people' are on board, you should not be deterred by 'challenging' excursions. You can confidently choose the difficult level. For me, they weren't even moderate. Anyone without disabilities or limitations can handle this; I am convinced.

Clothing: Thanks to the expedition cruise, casual and relaxed. The layering look, as in the rest of Chile and Argentina, is recommended.

You will have no cell reception during the trip. It's time to unplug.

Seasickness: I don't have any experience with it, as I've been lucky not to have problems. Even though you are traveling through seemingly calm and sheltered waters, don't underestimate the trip to Cape Horn. Bring prophylactic tablets or patches against motion sickness because if you become seasick, it is usually too late to do something about it.

There is no guidebook for the cruise, as the destination is too specific. If you want to take a trip in Chile or Argentina before or after, I recommend the travel guides by Dumont for Chile and Argentina.

The best travel time is during the Patagonian summer from November to March. But even then, the typical Patagonian weather prevails, and you can experience four seasons in a day or even an hour.

Be prepared for anything, and bring not only warm clothes but also rain pants and rain jackets (preferably a waterproof windbreaker).

We undertook the cruise through the fjords of Patagonia and Tierra del Fuego in early December, at the end of our 5-week trip through Chile and Argentina.

While we had a lucky streak with the weather for the first four weeks, the weather changed for the cruise, and we rarely saw the sun and blue sky. But that also makes this journey special.

Have you been here before and have more tips? Then we look forward to your comment below this text.

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Disclaimer: A big thank you to Australis for this wonderful trip - my opinion is, of course, true and my own.