You'll descend through ñire forest to reach the bay's inner arc, where the beach spreads wider than neighboring coves. The pebbles here trend smaller—egg-sized rather than fist-sized—creating a softer crunch underfoot. Steamer ducks patrol the waterline in pairs, their whistling calls carrying across the bay's natural amphitheater. The forest crowds close behind, its canopy pruned into wind-flagged shapes by decades of westerly gales.
“The horseshoe geography generates peculiar acoustics, allowing voices to travel the bay's curve through a natural whispering gallery effect.”
Tropical beach hammock between palms
The bay's protected geometry makes it one of the channel's calmer anchorages, visible in the mooring blocks embedded near the eastern arm. At low tide, rockweed drapes exposed stones in bronze-green curtains, filling the air with brine and iodine. The water temperature hovers around 7°C even in January, but the sheltered conditions occasionally coax locals into brief, breath-stealing dips. Across the channel, Chilean lighthouse stations mark shipping routes, their automated flashes visible after dark.
Families favor this beach for its gradual slope and relative wind protection, children building rock cairns that last until the next high tide. The beach's curve creates acoustic oddities—conversations at one end sometimes carry with surprising clarity to the other. By evening, the bay catches reflected light from the western sky, the water glowing salmon-pink while the surrounding forest darkens to silhouette.
