Fly Fishing Patagonia, Part 2, Consulate

Dealing with airline companies around transporting a pet internationally can be very complicated. The polices and advice change depending on what airline employee you are talking to and on what day. I must have made forty telephone calls in order to check and then recheck the rules. If you are flying a long way and dealing with different carriers then it all gets even more convoluted and confusing as each airline has its own pet policy and information. There are also different animal Custom polices with each country and since I was was dealing with several ( Canada, USA, Argentina, Chile on the way down and then in reverse order on the way back) there was much to look into. I didn't want my dog quarantined some place for several months. I ended up having to deal with Canada Food Inspection and Agriculture regarding my dog. I had to get passport like photos of her which were attached to an official document and stamped. It seemed everything needed an official stamp. Of course I needed to prove she was healthy and up to date on all shots. I also had to look into a Chilean work visa for myself. Fortunately Montreal had a Chilean consulate. The consul there informed me I had to get my potential employer in Chile to fax a letter indicting that I in fact had employment and a job description. All this was understandable. I had a couple meetings at the consulate. The consul always sat behind an official looking desk and politely asked many questions. I imagined him to be a great card player as he revealed little. I telephoned the consulate just three or four days before my flight to remind them I had yet to receive a work visa they promised. I was concerned; they weren't. A couple of days before my flight I was at the consulate once again reviewing everything with "poker face". I was relieved when he provided me with the needed visa. I had received it in the finial hour. I had gotten through that hoop, a big hoop. Looking back I should have just told everyone including Customs that I was going on a 5 month fishing trip of a lifetime instead of being honest. Although honesty is the "best policy" sometimes it makes things much more complicated. Paper work, or not, I would have gone.

I purchased a large dog travel kennel and started sensitizing my dog to it. She was not used to confined spaces. Dog treats helped the learning process. I made the kennel a fun place with lots of rewards. The kennel came with a water container that looked flimsy. I made a back up one out of a solid plastic container and duct taped it to the grated kennel door. I then wrote the Spanish word for dog, Pero, all over the kennel along with my home address, etc. I consulted a veterinarian about long distance air travel. He informed me that since my dog was one year old she was in the prime of her life and at her strongest. He suggested a sedative for the air travel and I picked up the prescription. My itinerary was Montreal to Miami non-stop. Then a 5 hour stop over before boarding an all night Aerolineas Argentinas flight directly to Buenos Aires. Then I'd switch to a flight to Santiago just an hour later, where Jim had arranged someone to meet me. I'd  spend two days with a member of Jim's family in downtown Santiago and then board an over night bus south to Osorno, Chile. The fly fishing lodge driver would met me there upon arrival early in the morning and we would travel southward a full day through Argentina and then back into Chile. I was informed the overnight bus had a place for pets in the back of the coach that was safe. Jim said he transported his dog this way and it worked out fine. I was uneasy with this arrangement. Next thing I knew I was at Montreal's Dorval airport with my fishing equipment, outdoor gear, extensive paper work (documents), and a drugged dog. Miami international would be my first stop. It turned out to be one of the most challenging on my journey.

Fly Fishing Patagonia, Part 1, Miramichi

 

I was standing in the middle of the river and it felt cold. It was the last weekend of the trout season. Leaves were falling around me. The wind was chilly and the clouds had the ominous look of winter. I started thinking about Bruce Chatwin, Yvon Chouinard, William Leitch and others who had visited the Land of the Big Feet. I thought about large trout swimming in rios, lagos and bocas. I was thinking about Patagonia and the southern hemisphere. I wanted to go straight from Fall into Spring and fool nature itself by skipping Winter. I wanted to transport myself to where the rivers were beginning to warm and come to life; where trout weren't hunkering down in dark deep pools but instead awakening and looking to the surface and the sun.

By chance I read a magazine article on several fly fishing lodges in Patagonia. The images of the terrain and rivers were mesmerizing. I decided to take action and after a little research faxed my resume to the bottom of the world. It was the first angling resume I had ever written. It was my message in a bottle. A couple days later I received a reply. I couldn't believe it. I thought, "Things like that don't happen to me!". A lodge owner named Jim said he'd be chasing the King of Fish ( Atlantic Salmon) on a famous maritime river in New Brunswick in a couple of weeks. I lived in Montreal then. He knew his geography and asked if we could meet. I said I'd make the road trip east to the lodge near the town of Blackville where he would be staying. I made the full day drive dodging moose and logging trucks along the last stretch of rural route 108, and arrived just before dark. We talked over a beans and wieners dinner in a classic wood lodge overlooking the Miramichi river. It reminded me of the old Adirondack camps in a region just south of Montreal where where I learned to fly fish as a child. It all felt familiar. Jim seemed larger than life. He had fished just about everywhere for trout and salmon. He said with a playful smile that "after God created trout he created him". I didn't know what to think of him. I don't think it really mattered. The next morning I watched him and others take turns fishing a tannin colored salmon pool on the Cains river. He wore a Filson tin cloth hat and a Barbour coat, and fished a full flex fly rod. He oozed tradition. I liked that. He spoke about his love of dry fly fishing and his home river in Chile. I also liked that. Before I drove home I had committed to spending five months in rural Patagonia, from late December until May. He offered a guiding gig and I couldn't say no. I took the hook. I had a full time job, a mortgage, a one year old golden retriever and like most people numerous other responsibilities. There were many unanswered questions: Could I get several months off from work? Could I afford to take the time off? Was it possible to transport my young dog such a distance? Did I need a work visa? Where the hell is Valle Des Escales, Chile (my destination)? It was already the middle of October and I had a lot of scrambling to do. I wondered if I could pull it off. I doubted I could pull it off. Then one night while listening to talk radio I heard the author Ray Bradbury being interviewed and I found confidence. He spoke with boundless enthusiasm about everything he loved. He said that his approached to life was to "jump off a cliff and then learn to make wings on the way down". Mr Bradbury was the best storyteller I had ever heard. He made everything seem possible. I said to myself," build wings".