Little seen and untamed river stirs Patagonia

April 06, 2008|Carolyn McCarthy, Globe Correspondent

COYHAIQUE, Chile — The Carreterra Carretera Austral is a lonely place. Its 750 miles of washboard rumbles south through thick Valdivian rain forest and across sprawling steppe, bound toward for the tip of a continent. But before it can arrive, it’s blocked by the Southern Patagonian Ice Field, the biggest chunk of continental ice outside of Greenland and Antarctica.

Chilean Patagonia is also a land of water: its deep glacial lakes and powerful, pristine rivers rushing from the Andes to the Pacific. It’s a dream if you’re a salmon, a nature lover, or kayaker. Or a hydroelectric company.

Energy is a hot topic in Chile, where natural resources are few. Ten Patagonian rivers are targeted for dams planned by Spanish-Italian multinational Endesa and Chile-based conglomerate HidroAysén, with the backing of the government.

At stake are pristine ecosystems and rural farms but an even greater issue involves building the world’s longest transmission lines. Thousands of high voltage towers would run 1,500 miles — picture the distance between Maine and South Florida — to bring power to Santiago and, the capital, and mining operations in the north.

Among the rivers high on the dam list are the Baker, the highest-volume waterway in the country, and the Pascua, so remote that few have people have ever seen it.

‘‘As a planet we are in a freshwater crisis and global warming will make it worse,’’ says Aaron Sanger of International Rivers. ‘‘We should safeguard our remaining sources of freshwater. ... These rivers are immensely valuable. They flow from two of the largest freshwater sources in the world.’’

According to Sanger, their ecosystems also include rare species like the huemul (South Andean deer), now numbering in the low thousands worldwide. Isolation has prevented environmental studies of the area. Driving the Carretera Austral, the Pascua is 14 hours south of the provincial hub of Coyhaique, crossing by ferry to Villa O’Higgins, where Lake O’Higgins is navigated to a remote, roadless point.

As I jumped at the chance to see the river it occurred to me that my trip had a motive akin to a new form of tourism: seeing the sights while they still exist.

Deep in the heart of the Chilean Patagonia, Cochrane is a drowsy hamlet of 3,000. The streets are quiet, save for the herding dogs happily corralling a handful of backpackers down sidewalks overgrown with yarrow.

At the local beanery, alongside your salmon, mashed potatoes, and cherry compote, there’s a rack of free postcards sponsored by HidroAysén. They run out fast, particularly the images of horse riders crossing rivers on wooden rafts. These idyllic scenes are the very ones at stake.