The charmingly rustic island that Darwin called ‘a miserable hole’

Charles Darwin may have been a brilliant naturalist with revolutionary theories on evolutionary biology, but as a tourism marketer, he was more often than not a snarky curmudgeon.

Hiking Chile’s Chiloe Island.

Case in point the southern Chilean island of Chiloe, which he called “a miserable hole”.

“In winter the climate is detestable, and in summer it is only a little better,” he wrote during his first visit to the archipelago on the HMS Beagle in July 1834. “The winds are very boisterous, and the sky almost always clouded: to have a week of fine weather is something wonderful.”

The hotel is on the tranquil eastern shores of Chile’s largest island off the coast of northern Patagonia.

Yet here I am, experiencing that kind of wonderful, greeted by brilliant blue skies, mild temperatures and the sweetest of breezes. Yes, I’m told the glorious spring weather is unusual, that I’m extremely lucky. “If it’s not raining, it’s because it’s going to rain,” is the island’s motto, with sudden showers part of daily life.

Then again, perhaps grumpy young Darwin’s experience of the island and its volatile weather might have been enhanced if he’d been staying at Refugia Chiloe.

Snug central… freestanding fireplace in the guest lounge.

Located on the tranquil eastern shores of Chile’s largest island off the coast of northern Patagonia, this all-inclusive luxury lodge (formerly Tierra Chiloe, part of Baillie’s Lodges but passing back into its original owners’ hands as of May 1, 2025) not only accepts the aspects of daily life largely derided by Darwin – the moody weather, the rural subsistence economy and the “quiet, retired” ambience – but embraces them to capture the mystique of the archipelago, all wrapped up in head-turning style.

Kayak excursion. The island failed to impress Charles Darwin.

Designed by Santiago-based architects Mobil, the distinctive wood and glass, dual-winged structure resembles a bridge – or perhaps an open drawer – perched on metal stilts and clad with wooden shingles to mimic the rainbow-hued palafito houses of Castro harbour. Floor-to-ceiling glass windows offer expansive views of the tidal Pullao wetlands and its flocks of migratory birds, and provide a cinematic experience of the changing weather patterns as they sweep across the patchwork of green.

From wooden coffee tables shaped into a family of pigs, to handwoven textiles and pairs of hand-spun, dyed and knitted woollen slippers gifted to guests, the Chilote culture permeates every aspect of the lodge’s aesthetic.

Behind the wooden bar, a mixologist creates enticing pisco sours tinged with indigenous calafate berries or local ulmo honey; while in a courtyard, we gather around an earthen firepit for the dramatic unveiling of the curanto – a traditional feast of mussels, clams, fish, cuts of meat and native potatoes, all wrapped up in nalca leaves and left to steam under smouldering turf for several hours.

Exploring by horseback.

With an ethos of using produce largely sourced within a half-hour of the hotel, the restaurant menu reflects the sea and paddock-to-plate culinary culture of the islands: freshly caught fish, mussels and shellfish harvested straight from Pullao Bay, and vegetables plucked fresh from the hotel’s verdant garden.

During a stroll around the property perimeter, I bump into the restaurant’s sous chef foraging on the pebbly seashore for seaweed and salty sea asparagus to garnish a salad. This free resource has been an essential element of Chilote cuisine since Chono nomads first arrived in canoes more than 6000 years ago, their maritime traditions later absorbed by the potato-farming Huilliche people, who settled in the 1400s and now make up 11 per cent of Chiloe’s population.

The hotel restaurant concentrates on seafood and locally sourced ingredients.

During one of Refugia Chiloe’s complimentary guided excursions – which include Pacific coastal hikes, kayaking and horseback riding along the edge of the wetland – we visit a shipyard in the capital city of Castro, where master shipbuilders painstakingly assemble a traditional wooden vessel using age-old joinery techniques, its hull and ribs shaped by steam.

The next day, we set sail on the resort’s own private wooden boat, the jaunty Williche, (hand-built in the same shipyard), accompanied by wake-surfing Austral dolphins and even a pair of Magellanic penguins bobbing on the sparkling surface of the bay.

This, we’re told, is how the mariners of the past travelled between the 40-odd islands of the archipelago, salt spray and shrouding fog contributing to a vivid oral folklore that still holds sway in remote fishing settlements today.

Williche, the resort’s private wooden boat.

La Pincoya, for instance, is a beautiful water spirit who will either predict a bountiful catch or empty nets, depending on which way she makes her luminous appearance; then there’s the tale of El Caleuche, a mysterious ghost ship that appears briefly in the mist, manned by the souls of drowned sailors. Lured by the sounds of partying onboard, local fishermen have been known to disappear overnight, kidnapped by the phantom ship only to return the following morning with no memory and a furious hangover – no doubt a convenient excuse for a messy night.

Misdemeanours blamed on supernatural forces, however, are soon put asunder in Chiloe’s famous Jesuit churches, 16 of which are designated UNESCO World Heritage sites. Disembarking from Williche at the sleepy island of Chelin, we step inside the shingle-covered, neo-classical Our Lady of the Rosary Church dating to 1888, constructed entirely from wood without the use of a single nail and with a ceiling resembling an upturned boat. Meanwhile, in the adjoining cemetery, families come together to picnic in miniature versions of the church or local houses, assembled over the tombstones of deceased family members.

All the comforts… a room with a view.

Swapping the nautical comforts of Williche for a sheepskin-covered gaucho saddle, we clip-clop along deserted rural laneways on Refugia Chiloe’s resident horses, travelling as Darwin himself did during his second visit to the island in January 1835.

“We struck across the island following intricate winding paths, sometimes passing through magnificent forests, and sometimes through pretty cleared spots, abounding with corn and potato crops,” he wrote, clearly enjoying the more favourable weather. “This undulating woody country, partially cultivated, reminded me of the wilder parts of England, and therefore had to my eye a most fascinating aspect.”

As our cavalcade passes, fluffy Maremma dogs gruffly announce their disapproval as they bravely guard their flocks behind fences of flowering yellow gorse (an introduced pest that’s so pretty, yet so bad for the environment). Our mounts then pick their way back to the shoreline, splashing knee-deep through mud towards the geometric beacon on the hill, the glint of the afternoon sun reflecting in Refugia Chiloe’s picture windows.

Later, this view will be reversed as we gaze out, fine carmenere in hand, at a blazing sunset from plush leather lounges around a roaring open fire, the tidal flats a swirling kaleidoscope of orange and purples reflected under a Turneresque sky.

With all due respect, Mr Darwin – you may have been “glad to say farewell to Chiloe” – but if this is misery, it’s something I’ll happily endure.

The details

Fly
LATAM has direct flights from Sydney to Santiago four times a week, with flights from Melbourne three times weekly. From Santiago, there are five direct flights a week to Castro on Chiloe. See latamairlines.com

Stay
Refugia Chiloe Hotel and Spa is branded as Tierra Chiloe until April 31, 2025, (see tierrachiloe.com). It will reopen in October under the ownership of the Purcell family, the original owners of the Tierra chain (now owned by Baillie’s Lodges).

The writer was a guest of Tierra Hotels and LATAM.