Month after month, year after year, the Río Valdivia makes its unending way to the sea. Against that visually static backdrop, a variety of creatures live out their lives above, on, and below the water. These creatures need the river or the nearby oceans to survive, and humans in turn rely on them for everything from food to entertainment to poetic inspiration. The best place to view most of them is the Feria Fluvial.
Edible creatures:

With thousands of miles of coastline, Chile has more than 200 fish species, and I found many of them displayed on stands lining the riverside half of the Valdivia’s fish market. On tables fronting the river, workers fillet the fish with great speed and artistry, tossing the waste backhanded into the water. Fish for sale include jurel, reineta, róbalo, merluza (hake), corvina (similar to sea bass), congrio (an eel that tastes like a fish), and the well-known salmón. Salmon was introduced to Chile in the early 1900s, and Chile is listed as the world’s second largest producer (after Norway) of Atlantic salmon. The fish is primarily grown in lake, river, and ocean cages and net pens, and its large-scale production has raised concerns by both environmentalists and traditional fishermen.

Erizos
Other market stands hold symmetrical arrangements of small fish including anchovies and sardines; clams, mussels, and other bivalves of all sizes; and a few curiosities such as erizo (sea urchin). Shoppers eye the stands for the best specimens or visit their favorite sellers and buy fish for home or restaurant use. Tourists without a kitchen can purchase small plastic cups filled with ceviche, lime-marinated fish.
Lobos marinos:

The stars of Valdivia’s animal scene are the lobos marinos, literally translated as ‘sea wolves.’ Known in English as South American or Patagonian sea lions, they are considerably larger than their counterparts off the west coast of North America. Along the river promenade, they join together in groups of up to a dozen, sprawled on wooden piers or concrete pilings, slipping into the water or using their flippers and powerful tails to hoist themselves back up. The males can grow to 700 pounds and, with their large heads and well developed manes, are the most lionlike of the world’s eared seals. The females reach half the size of the male. Both male and female adults have a ragged orangish-brown coat, while the coat of the young is smoother and dark brown.

Sea lions provide Valdivianos with non-stop entertainment, a Sea World in the wild. Wherever the animals congregate, people gather to watch them perform. My favorite spot is the southern end of the fish market. As the filleter tosses pieces of fish into the water, the biggest sea lions, who lord over the choicest spots on the piers, position themselves to gobble fish in mid-air, while others slip, slide, and dive for their treats.
Homeless dogs:

I can make two primary observations about homeless dogs in Valdivia. First, there are many of them. Walking along the riverfront and around the downtown core, I came upon dozens of them — traveling alone or in small packs; sprawled out in sleep or scurrying to an unknown destination with great purpose; lapping at water in the river or nuzzling a real or imagined piece of food. Second, be they large German shepherd mixes or small mutts, the dogs seem to be uniformly good-natured. Some sat loyally next to me for a bit, undoubtedly hoping for a handout; others permitted me to pet them. I never saw one that snarled or bit. Though their homeless situation must be difficult, particularly in the cold and rainy winter months, they seem reasonably healthy — i.e., no mangy patches of hairless skin — and tolerably well fed — no pronounced ribs or distended bellies.
Birds:

Gull on Lago Nahuel Huapi
While the fishmongers work and the sea lions dine, dozens of birds soar overhead, waiting to swoop down for their own edible morsels. Most of the birds I saw around the Feria Fluvial were vultures and gulls, with an occasional procession of ducks in the water. Some 300 avian species live in Chile. On a river-tour along the Río Cruces, the guide pointed out a black-necked swan. Once common in a nearby nature sanctuary, the birds died off in the mid-2000s, victims of pollution from a local pulp mill, and are slowly returning to the area.
Chile’s official bird is the Andean condor. With a wingspan exceeding ten feet and weight of up to 30 pounds, it is considered the world’s largest flying bird. A member of the vulture family, it has primarily black plumage and lives some fifty years. Because of its heavy weight, the bird gravitates to places where strong winds aid it in flight. I’d like to say I saw one perched on a tree when Astrid and I crossed the Andes, but it was too far away for me to be 100% sure.
In my novel-in-progress, a large bird comes to Clara’s rescue in one of her supernatural journeys in the Andean mountains. Originally, I chose an albatross, in a nod to Coleridge’s The Rime of the Ancient Mariner. However, albatrosses are sea birds, so I soon switched to the perhaps even more appropriate Andean condor.
Wow, the dreams and especially ones involving condors, are starting to remind me of the peyote visions of Carlos Castaneda’s “A Separate Reality.” Excellent post….makes me want to return to Chile ASAP and visit the realm south of Santa Cruz de Colchagua. Perhaps that woman in the church you mentioned perceived you as a shaman?
Actually, Castaneda’s books are mentioned in the novel … I, too, wished that I could have gotten farther south, as you’ll see from my next post.