The Rio Fuy & San Pedro
Fuy - Futaleufu Safari Trip
January 1997

by Clay Shields (original article)

I arranged my paddling trip through Expediciones Chile. In some ways this was kind of embarrassing, as most of my guide friends who have been down there have just gone themselves and rented a van and drove around where they needed to go. But, since my parents were footing most of the bill and I had to be back in school before too much time went by, I chose the easy route. It was the right decision to make - all the logistics were well planned; the guides terrific; the selection of boats fantastic. I found out about the company when I was back east guiding (on the Nantahala - most NOC guides have to serve some time there, though they all try hard to avoid it) and I went to a presentation that the owner, Chris Spelius gave. He had a bunch of slides and a video showing the beauty and great paddling, but what sold me was his enthusiasm and obvious love of the place. Plus, looking through his brochure, he gets some of the best people around to act as guides for him.

I met the group at the airport in Puerto Montt. I was disappointed somewhat because the flight down was cloudy and we didn't get a view of the mountains. We came out to collect out luggage and were met by Juliet, who got us to check our bags to make sure that out paddles weren't broken and that nothing had been stolen - her bags had had things stolen on the same flight a couple of weeks before, but ours came through fine. We piled into the van that was waiting and drove into town, to the bed and breakfast where we would stay later, but where now we would pick up boats and leave the camping gear we wouldn't need for a week or so. We outfitted boats - I got a red Corsica that I fit in well (a problem for me - I'm 6'6" and weigh about 250 pounds) but I was sure was going to be ugly in the photos since it would probably clash with my paddling gear. Plus, while I had learned to paddle in a Corsica, I figured it would be slow and unresponsive - even more so the T-Canyon I made the mistake of buying. After outfitting the boats we went back to the airport to pick up one late arrival and we were off, driving north towards the Fuy.

W e left from Puerto Montt and drove north along the Pan American Highway towards out destination for that night - Panguipulli. The drive took a few hours - part of it over a gravel road - but it seemed to pass quickly as we introduced ourselves and talked - not very surprisingly - about paddling. For this section of the trip our guides were Ken Kastorff and his wife Juilet. I had met Ken a couple of years before when I was trying to teach someone to roll at Lake Fontana. He had taken time out from some private instruction I was doing to give some tips on rolling, and I learned a lot by seeing him teach. Later I found out who he was and that he had practically invented the C-to-C roll and I understood why he was so clear in teaching it. I hadn't met Juliet before, though I had seen her in the store of the rafting and kayak instruction business that she and Ken had opened just down the road from NOC. The other seven people in the group were all men, and no-one had met any of the others before. In no particular order there was David, a tax lawyer from Atlanta; Dan, who does lighting for movies and TV and commercials (and it is a harder job than I ever knew); Randy, who does software kind of work in Tulsa, and yes, they have whitewater there, thank you very much (I never knew that either); Toz, who is also from California and has boated many of the rivers up north; Rodger, a gruff looking chiropractor from Oregon; and two German fellows named Peter and Gregor who had a longer trip than the rest of us. Everyone was pretty nice and seemed pretty competent. We also met Pedro, who was going to be our shuttle driver for the first part of the trip.

P anguipulli was a nice town and the first exposure to normal Chilean life for most of the folks on the trip. It was surprisingly normal for American standards. Many children were out on the street rollerblading - rollerblades apparently having been the popular Christmas present last year. Panguipulli is also known as the city of the Roses and there were beautiful rose bushes all around the town. The night we were there was the night of the big Peru vs. Chile soccer match. If Peru were to lose, then they would be out of the World Cup finals. People around the town staked out their spots in the cafes really early to watch on TV and root for the national team. We wandered around town a bit, bought a few small souvenirs, ate dinner and went to sleep, since we were all tired from traveling and needed to be up early for the drive around Lake Panguipulli to Choshuenco where we would be staying while we boated the Fuy. Peru won, by the way, but the Chileans celebrated a close game anyway - I woke up briefly to sounds of yelling and clapping, and it wasn't till morning I found out that Chile had actually lost.

T he next morning we were up early to drive around the lake to Choshuenco, where we would be staying while we boated on the Fuy. Before we left Ken took me over to look at the national tree of Chile - of course I forgot to write down the name of the tree, but it looked very much like something from a Dr. Seuss book. In fact it is apparently a "living fossil", and is different in function than other trees today. Heck if I know anything about it though. The drive was not too bad - an hour on bumpy dirt roads that crossed both the Rio San Pedro and the Rio Fuy before we pulled into the inn. We dropped our stuff into our rooms, took a few minutes to finish outfitting boats and went up to the river.

According to our trip itenerary the first day was supposed to be on the Rio Neltume, but after talking with the group, Ken and Juliet decided to go ahead to the lower Fuy and spend two days there. The lower Fuy is a pretty fun river, and while all rivers are different, I would say the the lower Fuy is similar in nature to the Tellico, though it is a bigger river. The big red Corsica I had was a pig compared to the Pirouette I was used to paddling, and I felt really sloppy paddling it. It wasn't all the boats fault though - while I had paddled a lot during the summer before I left, as it grew colder and rainier in Santa Cruz it wasn't as much fun to go out on the ocean and I slacked off and got out of boat shape.

The only problem being on the guided trip was that everyone followed the guides down the river, and as we came to each playspot we made our own little crowd banging around in the eddies. Still, there were plenty of playspots - good front and side surfing, as well as good enders. I managed to bang out a big ender in the Corsica, which was cool - my Pirouette doesn't have enough volume to get me out of the water. At one point I followed Ken into an ender spot, flipped and got completely bludgeoned by a lurking rock, proving my point that it is really worthwhile to own and use a good helmet suitable for the sport. As we came down towards the bottom of the river, we passed a bridge where the van was waiting, but decided to paddle down into Lake Panguipulli and back to the inn.

W hen we got back we showered and went out to look around town. There was another hotel near by that had a nice patio with a great view of the lake and good pisco sours - a drink that rivals margaritas for sheer deliciousness and alcohol effect. When we went over there, I was elected to do the ordering, since I speak a bit of Spanish. After about ten minutes of stumbling around in Spanish asking for drinks and such, the young woman who was working in the bar replied to someone's question in perfect English. It turned out that she had been a transfer student to the U.S. outside of Chicago. It was pretty funny that she let me go on in my bad Spanish for so long.

O ur final day on the Fuy was the day we ran the steep drops of the upper section. I was up early and went out for a walk as the sun came up over the lake - it was a scene out of a tourism brochure. So I took some pictures in case I ever went into the tourism brochure business.

We put in where the Fuy flowed out of a beautiful alpine lake. The weather was cool and cloudy - not rainy but almost dreary. There wasn't much place to change though, and we attracted a small crowd including some photographers a video guy from the local tourist bureau. They were there to get some shots of us at the big drops, and the fellow in charge got into a boat in his dress clothes and paddled around on the calm part of the river without a sprayskirt. I was secretly hoping he would tip over, as his underlings were filming his exploits, but he was very slow and careful and it didn't happen.

T he camera crew that was with us at the put in met us at the falls and took pictures and video of our runs. This time the boss was not too keen on paddling our boats. I imagine that we might show up in some local tourist brochure in Chile some day - keep an eye out for us. The rest of the river was pretty smooth paddling. We took out and went back to the hotel to eat and drink more pisco sours and get ready to go on to the San Pedro river the next day.

So there is nothing particularly special about the San Pedro - in terms of rapids, that is. We went there mostly because it happened to be right on the way back to the airport at Puerto Montt. The river itself was a pretty easy run, with some good surfing waves and a nice ender spot or two, but during our drive there the sun came out for the first time in a few days and when we got to the river it had the clearest, bluest water I had ever seen in my life. Floating down the river was, in Ken's words, like "being on a magic carpet ride".

After we loaded the boats, we drove out from our little bed and breakfast back towards Choshuenco and the sky cleared up and the sun came out and we got our first look at the volcano whose base we had been paddling around for the last few days. We stopped off the side of the road to look back and take pictures, then drove on to the lake where we dressed and launched. It was a warm,sunny day, the first we had there, and the river was a beautiful clear blue. Drifting on downstream you could look down into the clear water and see the bottom. The San Pedro's banks were not formed of the same black lava rock that the Fuy's were; instead, being further away, it was made up of soft white rock formed from settling ash. In some places there were underwater cliffs that you could look down along the cliff face or 30 feet or more.

T here were not much in the way of rapids, but I don't think anyone minded after the excitement of the day before. Most everyone had tried to get a more play-type boat, instead of the big creekers, but there were not really enough to go around. Heading down the river we got pretty spread out as some folks stayed to play at spots and others, like me, just sat back and enjoyed the day and the ride. Ken floted most of the river with his skirt open and his fishing rod out. I would have to say that if the weather had been marginal, this wouldn't have been a welcome run, but it was so nice tht it was a great way to relax after a hectic day before.

A s we headed downstream we came to an ender spot, and everyone stopped an played for while. I, being just a bit lazy, got out of my boat and took a little nap in the sun and snapped a few pictures. There were flies out though - big ones, that mae a horrible loud buzzing sound, but didn't seem to bite. They were particulalrly attracted to the color blue and spent a lot of time buzzing after folks with blue helmets. I spent a while stnding on a rock swatting at the flies as they tried to fly up to me from downwind.

A fter catching enders we paddled on down to a lunchspot in the shade. Lunch was the same as everyday - some cheese and sausage and crackers and fruit. Easy stuff to carry and good to eat on the water. The rest of the river was a simple trip, and we ate a little more before driving back to Puerto Montt.