Returning to Puerto Montt and our visit with Machi, one of our first visits in the area was to Calbuco, where Machi grew up.
It’s seen better days.
First, let me remind you where Calbuco is.
It is (was) a small island on the edge Reloncaví Sound. I say “was” because the causeway isn’t even a bridge; they filled it all in for the road. It’s part of the Calbuco Archipelago and touches both the Reloncaví Sound and the Gulf of Ancud.
We visited the town of Calbuco. Machi grew up here.
As he says (this actually continues what I quoted in Remeros Descalzos):
Mirando en retrospectiva mi infancia, debo haber sido un tipo peculiar; a la mayoría de los niños la oscuridad los asusta, para mí era mi aliada, y me escapaba de noche a recorrer la isla sin que nadie me viese, y me gustaba explorar en solitario las ruinas de lo que había sido el floreciente pueblo de Calbuco, consumido por un gigantesco incendio en 1943.
Looking back on my childhood, it must have been a bit peculiar; for the majority of the kids darkness frightened them, but for me it was my ally, and I would escape at night to travel around the island with nobody seeing me, and I loved to explore by myself the ruins of those who had lived in the once-blossoming town of Calbuco, which was consumed in a huge fire in 1943.
(My translation.)
Machi told me that in addition to exploring the ruins while barefoot, he was also pretty much naked—that way he didn’t have to worry about ruining his clothes. This also demonstrates how resiliant bare feet are—they worked even while wandering the ruins at night.
Here’s the beach in the area where Machi first lived.
It’s empty now, with just a few boats (or merely hulls) left, but when he lived there it was thriving. (In fact, he says he rather likes all the activity in front of his present house, which I wrote about in El Hobbit, since it reminds him so much of his childhood.)
(Photo credit: Alan Bruens)
The beach has rather decent sand on it, but the sand it covered with a layer of smoothed rocks or pebbles. This would drive the normally-shod nuts, but for a seasoned barefooter, they were just fine.
In that picture, the first house Machi lived in used to be just to the left of that white house behind the boat above my head. Here’s a picture of the very young Machi taken right about there.
He also spent time here with his uncle Edesio, who was a big influence on his life. This picture (as I recall) is taken right on that same beach.
Examine it well—very rarely will you see shoes on Machi. But for dressing up for a picture with your favorite uncle? I guess he can be forgiven.
That old hulk was pretty far gone. Alan carefully took a picture down its interior.
Note the hawk sitting on one of the remaining cross-members.
(Photo credit: Alan Bruens)
We then headed to the town square, or plaza, which sits on a bluff about 40 feet above the water. From there there was a great view across the sound toward Puluqui Island.
If you look carefully, you can see some fish farms (all the white buoys in the background), and the Andes farther off. (As with most of the picture, click for a larger version.)
All the towns that we visited had wonderful town plazas. Calbuco has a sculpture reminding us of its seafaring history.
I’m afraid the position of the sun messed up the lighting a bit.
Here’s another view from the rear—better lighting, but its majesty is not as overt.
Machi’s later home, the base for his nocturnal perambulations, was right off the square.
(Photo credit: Alan Bruens)
It is still owned by a member of the Alvarado family. Also note the typical chileno shingles on the sides that Machi used on his own house.
Despite its rather small size (the main town of Calbuco has about 12,000 residents), the plaza was booming. Here are Machi and Alan crossing the street.
You can see the main bus stop on the other side. Buses were constantly arriving and departing—the area around Puerto Montt has a thriving bus system. It seems you can easily get just about anywhere if you want (and can figure it out).
This is where Machi grew up, quite barefoot. As he has said, all the other kids also went barefoot, but then as they grew older, started wearing shoes (similar to what happened in the United States in, what, the 1930s/1940s?). Only Machi continued.
I guess for all the rest, it was just easier to conform, even when it was not necessary.
The photo with my uncle was taken by the side of the plaza, overlooking the sea. I was very unconfortable in that shoes, that’s why I was sitting on the fence; but in that days a photo was a very important event, and this photo is still very special for me.
The old hulk belongs to defunct steamboat “Dalcahue”; that boat, along with “Lemuy”, “Tenglo” and “Trinidad”, were the steamboats we used to travel to Puerto Montt and back.
As you can see, Calbuco island is long and narrow; when I was 8 my biggest night adventure was to reach the opposite end of the island and be back before dawn, while the elders were still asleep. My way out was that window that Bob and me are looking at in the “Chez Machi” photo.
The idea that you were made to wear shoes for important events is very interesting – could you tell me more about how that effected your daily life?
Photo events were always “important”. I had not only to put on shoes, but to dress up completely; there is a very funny one, where the other friends I was playing with, just minutes before, are all normally dressed and barefooted, while I’m impecable dressed, with long trousers, shoes, and even a very incongruent hat. ¡it was almost a disguise! Nevertheless I didn’t resent that situations, I understood my elder’s motives, this events were very far apart and all the rest of the time I did anything I wanted; I was a very good student, so I was “trustful”, and all things I guessed would not be allowed I did “under the radar” 🙂