As I looked east from the town of Castro on Chiloé, across the gray waters of the Gulf of Corcovado, I imagined the small town of Chaitén on the far side. It was a place I very much wanted to visit during my month in Chile. First, it is in the general region of a monastery that features in my novel-in-progress. Second, I feel an affection for the town because both it and Puerto Rico have suffered through recent disasters. Third, Chaitén lies at the gateway to the Parque Pumalin, which is linked in my mind to a woman
Parque Pumalin, courtesy Pumalin Park and Project
from Spokane. Unfortunately, getting to the town was difficult. In March, no ferries were shuttling between Castro and Chaitén: I would have had to take a bus down to Quellón on the southern tip of Chiloé or up to Puerto Montt; the ferry did not leave on a daily basis; and the ride, lasting from six to eight hours, could be delayed or cancelled due to weather conditions. I just didn’t have the time. So, with apologies to Chaitén, I’m devoting a post to what I would have found had I gone.
A rosy future:
Chaiten (Wikipedia Commons)
Founded in 1940, the town of Chaitén eventually grew to a picturesque place of some 4,000-plus residents. Fishing boats anchored in a small bay, rimmed by a rocky beach. Set back from the beach, attractive wooden homes lined a network of paved perpendicular streets. Scattered among the homes, a few hostels and small resorts and a restaurant or two catered to overnight guests. Most impressive was the town’s backdrop — a stunning series of mountains sweeping up to the sky, covered in lush forest and topped with snow. Chaitén’s location at the southern entrance to the renowned Parque Pumalin as well as its proximity to Carretera Austral (Highway 7), where the rugged road continues its journey south through Patagonia, made the town an ever-more-important tourism destination.
Until:
After the eruption (Wikipedia)
Three major volcanoes rise in the region around Chaitén: the closest, of the same name, is a mere 10 kilometers away. In 2008, a series of low-level earthquakes and rumbling sounds concerned residents, but even the geologists didn’t realize that the Chaitén volcano was about to explode. It did, after more than 9,000 years of silence, on May 2, sending spumes of ash and steam more than 60,000 feet in the air. Ash blanketed Chaitén, converting it into an eerie ghost town. A mud flow from the eruption oozed into the Río Blanco which had skirted the town, causing it to change its course and sever Chaitén in half.
Aftermath:
Fortunately, the government had evacuated all townspeople, and no lives were lost. Unfortunately, the town itself was destroyed. The provincial capital was moved to Futalaufú, near the border with Argentina, and the government opted to rebuild several miles to the north, to the safer location of a bayside beach called Santa Bárbara. However, the government hadn’t counted of the will of the people. They wanted their town back. Slowly, they returned to the neighborhood north of the errant Río Blanco. There, homes were dug out of the ashes and repaired, water and electricity returned, ferry service resumed, and schools reopened. Today, a few hardy restaurants and lodgings cater to a growing number of visitors. A new trail leads to the rim of the volcano, and uninhabitable ash-covered homes serve as a museum of the town’s tragedy.
For more information about Chaitén and the volcanic eruption, I recommend Chaiten: A Town in the Line of Fire and Chaiten: Chile’s Haunting, Mud-Ravaged Ghost Town.