This Time with Forts

I don’t want to overdo the ends-of-the-earth image (refer to the last post if you don’t know what I’m talking about), HOWEVER, the forts that once protected the city of Valdivia were known at the time as ‘los fuertes al final del mundo.’ In the mid-1600s, some seven fortifications (five of them major forts, or castillos) and ten batteries, strongholds, and watchtowers stood guard along the coast around the entrance to the Valdivia River. Today, a couple of watchtowers in Valdivia proper and the remains of three forts endure and are commonly visited. I explored two of them on my river-boat excursion and visited the third on a mini-trip to the coastal town of Niebla.

El Castillo de Niebla

A Bit of History:

Pedro de Valdivia (more about him in a future post) founded the first Chilean settlement in Santiago in 1541. Not content to stop there, he went on to found Valdivia in 1552. Neighboring hills contained rich gold veins, the Madre de Dios mine being perhaps the best known (a ragged band of these early miners make an appearance in my novel-in-progress …); land was granted to prominent Spaniards; ship-building and agricultural industries grew up; and the settlement prospered.

Until 1598, that is, when Mapuche and Huilliche Indians joined forces and destroyed Valdivia, setting fire to buildings and killing most of the settlers. For several decades, this was a no-man’s-land, ripe for roaming pirates and privateers.

In 1641, Spain and the Mapuches formed a truce, in which the Indians remained in control of their Araucanía territory, nestled between Santiago and Valdivia. The Dutch seized temporary control of Valdivia in 1643: after they left, the Spaniards quickly began repopulating the settlement. Realizing the importance of Valdivia as a first major stop for ships passing through the Straight of Magellan to reach the western coasts of the Americas (until the construction of the Panama Canal), the Spaniards were determined not to lose it again. This time around, they built forts, giving Valdivia another nickname — the American Gibraltar. The forts never had to prove themselves: when Lord Cochrane conquered the city in the War of Independence against Spain (1820), he made a surprise assault by land.

To the Fort:

For about a dollar, a micro-bus took me along the northern edge of the Valdivia River, past a coastal village and up a hill to the fort with a very long name (El Castillo de la Pura y Limpia Concepción de Montfort de Lemus). This is the largest and most intact of the three forts I visited. Raised metal walkways crisscross the grounds; though somewhat distracting from an historical perspective, they are necessary because the fort was built from local sandstone, which is very porous, and the increasing number of visitors was causing extensive erosion.

The walkways lead to ever higher levels — the parade grounds, a battery of cannons facing the entrance to the river (each fort cannon had its own name, such as San Blas, San Vicente, and Santa Bárbara), several bastions, and, on the highest point, a maritime light tower painted red and white. Former officer quarters now house a museum about Valdivia’s military history. One curious fact — the forts were built, not by slaves, but by convicts and exiles who were watched over by pardos, descendents of Africans or mixed-race Indians. Today, with bastions and cannon fire a thing of the past, the Niebla fort is perhaps best known for its spectacular coastal views.

Los Molinos

Getting a recommendation from fort officials, I took another micro-bus to Los Molinos, a small fishing community to the north. A scattering of late-season beachgoers walked in the black sand, brightly painted boats floated in the harbor, and several restaurants served — of course — seafood. The place had a lonely, slightly abandoned feel, like something out of Night of the Iguanas.

While eating way too much seafood (merluza, which is hake; clams, mussels, and sea urchins …), I chatted with a fellow older solitary traveler, from Argentina. Recently separated from his wife, he seemed, like the place, a bit melancholy. Based on the tiniest of samplings, I think it’s harder to travel alone when you’re older.

But definitely worth doing! (I’d add a happy face here if I knew how.)