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 In November 2008 I went to Chile because that’s where one of South America’s most important eco-fights is currently being fought. The battle is over the fate of the Baker River, a picturesque rush that runs from the middle of Patagonia’s Aysen region down to the Pacific Ocean. The entire Aysen region is sparsely populated and richly forested, a combination that makes it something of an environmental paradise. Fifty percent of the region is already protected, making it one of the least disturbed parts of South America. But that may not last.
The trouble starts with the Baker River. The largest river in Chile in terms of volume, the Baker runs for over 100 miles as a thick turquoise torrent, which is exactly the problem. In the 1980s, in his attempts to oust Marxist socialism and embrace global capitalism, Augusto Pinochet sold off the majority of Chile’s natural resources. The Baker’s torrent is enticing; it went to the Spanish company Endesa, which partnered with the Chilean utility Colbun to form HidroAysen.
This multinational’s original plans called for two hydroelectric plants on the Baker and three others on nearby tributaries. Somewhere between 6,000 and 9,000 hectares of pristine wilderness will flood. The power generated will be ferried via huge electrical towers across 2,200 miles to an area north of Santiago. Chile currently imports 72 percent of its energy although the area north of Santiago has active volcanoes, constant wind and ceaseless sunshine. Many experts have pointed out they could easily pursue renewables to meet their needs without destroying anything in the process.
The bigger danger is not just these five dams but the others this project might inspire. Already, the Swiss mining company Xstrata has expressed interest in building more dams in the area. And on April 6, 2008, the Boston Globe reported that five was an inaccurate number; HidroAysen actually has 10 dams planned. But even that may be an understatement.
The worst news arrived while I was in Chile, when the networks were buzzing with a comment made by a HidroAysen executive who claimed the Baker is only the beginning—that they have plans for as many as 300 dams in the region. This may be an exaggeration, and most likely seems to be, but the fact that the locals take the claim at face value gives you a pretty good understanding of the level of local paranoia.
Because experts feel that how this fight plays out will influence the rest of South America, that paranoia has birthed a movement that is now both a local obsession and an international cause célèbre. ‘Local’ means that I heard about the dangers of these dams everywhere we went; ‘international’ means I heard plenty about Doug Tompkins.
The founder of the clothing companies Esprit and Black Diamond, Tompkins fell in love with Chile in 1961. Thirty years later, he began buying what has since become 800,000 acres along the northern edge of Patagonia. Barring one errant tract, his purchase stretches from the Pacific Ocean to the Argentine border, effectively cutting Chile in half. Even though he has turned that land into Pumalin Park—managed by an international trust—people grew nervous about the scope of his purchase and the resulting fight got bitter.
When the Patagonia Sin Represas (Patagonia Without Dams) movement was just getting started, Tompkins was both a major contributor and vocal spokesman. But lately, because he feels that other groups have picked up the slack and because he’s worried that his less-than-stellar reputation is hurting the cause, his leadership and money have declined.
Not everyone is happy about this. Over breakfast one day, in a lodge on the shores of General Carrera Lake—both the origin of the Baker and the second largest body of water in South America—a massive cheer broke out. People were shouting and singing and dancing, and it wasn’t yet seven a.m. But it was November fifth and the news had just reached Patagonia. Even the gauchos were excited. One of them grabbed me as I was heading into the kitchen for coffee.
“Obama win?” he asked in broken English.
“Yeah,” I said.
“Now you tell him to tell Tompkins off his ass.”
“I may not have that kind of influence.”
“Then the next time you come, no more Patagonia. What then?”
Which is, after all, the point.
Updated 6/18/10; originally posted 3/30/09.
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