Chilean fjords

bright sun - clear skies - 25 degrees Celsius - bikini & deck chair & warmth & breeze





The sun is sparkling off the teal blue waters of the Chilean fjords, lighting thousands of points of shimmering gold in the beautiful waters around us. We're surrounded by rounded, rolling hills bursting with verdant green, the foothills extending like a lizard's back toward the snow-capped Andes behind.

Our ship has slowed to a stop and dropped anchor in this place with its unrelenting beauty. A passenger on board had a medical emergency last night, and the captain has diverted the route to allow him to disembark. And so, under the deep azure of this afternoon's cloudless skies, over the green-blue of the fjords, toward the forested mountains, a tiny orange boat is cutting a snow-white wake through the waters and carrying one man to safety.

Around me, the upper deck has filled with people, emerging into the open air with their cameras and their curiosity - all waving to the little orange pilot boat, wishing the gentleman well and hoping that he recovers.

I don't know what happened to him, nor do I know where he is going. I wonder if he's okay; I wonder if his worried wife is holding his hand on the orange boat as it disappears through the labyrinthine channel. It's a heartbreaking study in contrast for me, especially because Andy and I have embraced this journey as a step towards wellness for ourselves. We are among the youngest passengers on board, the cute newlyweds, in a group of largely older, long-married men and women from all over the world and spanning the full spectra of health and happiness.

I am deeply touched to imagine another passenger's anxiety on a day of such happiness for us. I am touched by the gravity of his illness as Andy and I find our health. I am touched perhaps most by the story aboard the tiny orange pilot boat in blue waters beneath green mountains, adding its narrative to the rich tapestry of this place at this moment.

Our ship is once again sailing north toward Puerto Montt, gliding on the calm waters and adding its own shining white sparkle to the channel. Each time I look up at the passing mountains with their rounded, glacier-carved peaks and the lush forests painting the landscape from sea to sky, they seem more and more vivid. It's as if the landscapes I used to imagine as South America have found the perfect conditions, blossomed into three dimensions, and pulled me in, head over heels. I almost expect to hear pan flutes serenading farmers as they walk llamas along the hills.

I am pensive today, but happy, so happy in this moment. I wish my fellow passenger a safe journey home, send him as much of my happiness as my heart can bear across the channel, and contribute a small piece of my own story to the world here in the fjords.