Eclipse Day in Edinboro, PA

The sun in eclipse.

This I expect was my last opportunity to see a total eclipse of the sun in my lifetime. The next one to hit the contiguous states of the United States is not calendared until 2025, when I will be 85. Perhaps I make it. But, even if I do, it's less likely that I would be interested in traveling to see it. So this was my chance. Even though it was eclipsing nowhere near Las Vegas.

Pretty much the entire contiguous lower 48 states were going to see at least a partial eclipse. Some more partial than others. Las Vegas was a minor amount of partial. So if the Total Eclipse of the Sun will not come to me, I will come to it. Besides, it was time for my annual trek to Pennsylvania and the band of totality was not far from my sister's house.

We chose to spend the 2024 Total Eclipse of the Sun at the eclipse watch party in Edinboro, Pennsylvania, on the campus of the local college, and well within the band of totality and not a far drive (well, the drive THERE -- the drive back was a whole different story).

They had food trucks and restrooms. What more do you need from an eclipse watching party. (Other than eclipse-watching protective eyewear. Which they were giving out in the rest stops on I-79. Which we did not need because we were prepared with the upscale plastic ones and not the cheap cardboard ones that look like 1950 3-D movie watching glasses).

More importantly, they had skies that by the time of the Big Event were sufficiently clear enough to afford a great view of the eclipsing sun.

I've seen excellent professional photos with the light being set by someone who know what they are doing and the eclipse is very distinct.  I am not that photographer.  This is what you get.

The actual moments of totality were spectacular. I was surprised that it never got completely dark. O was expecting midnight. It was more like deep into dusk. And we could not hear birds chirping to hear if they stopped chirping. But it was spectacular nevertheless. The light was weird. (I heard a professional photographer on the news says it's because the light takes on a greenish hue as the moment of totality gets closer.) It did get colder. The winds did pick up.

What surprised me the most is that I could not see the corona explode into view through my eclipse-viewing glasses. The corona is apparently less bright than the ball of the sun. I saw the sun completely disappear through the eclipse. Then I saw black. I thought I lost the sun from my view. Then I heard the crowd erupt. You could watch the totality with the naked eye. In fact, that was my only choice. So I did. I did not stare. Mama always told me not to look into the eyes of the sun / But mama, that's where the fun is.

It didn't look like a black disc with fire around it, as I expected and as it looks on TV. But it was a pale yellow disc, a more pastel color than the sun normally would be, that you could look at, surrounded by a ring of yellow fire. Now I know why some people are fanatical about chasing total eclipses of the sun.

Walking Down Avenida Presidente Manuel Bulnes

Someone is climbing onto the bronze horse at El Monumento al Ovejero

Time to fit one more travel adventure into the Punta Arenas portion of this Chile trip.

I had been driven into Punta Arenas from the north on multiple occasions at this point and I noticed a lot of interesting statuary, buildings, and monuments along the road into town. The Punta Arenas sections of various travel guides never mention taking a walk down Avenida President Manuel Bulnes to take in the sights, but that sort of thing doesn't stop me.

The first stop was the Santuario Maria Auxiliadora church. Let's go inside. It was open.

Then, befitting the walk down this particular boulevard, is El Monumento a Manual Bulnes. The Monument to Manuel Bulnes.

What is striking about this monument is the head of the horse. It's bowed down. That is very atypical for heroic monuments with an equestrian element.

I don't know the reason why, but it caught my eye.

Next was a walk through the municipal cemetery, El Cementerio Municipal Sara Braun.

 

This was worth a walk-through, due to the fascinating and ornate mausoleums, which are plentiful and beautiful.

 

I'm sure there has been some sort of contest among the prominent families to outdo one another in terms of the mausoleums.

This is the Mausoleo Croata, the Croatian Mausoleum.

I had looked for, and not been able to find, many signs of the Croatian heritage of Punta Arenas. I had heard that there was a strong Croatian presence in the town's history, but other than the Croatian club in downtown, had not seen any signs of the Croatian heritage in modern Punta Arenas. Apparently, the Croatians of Punta Arenas are best found in the municipal cemetery.

And even though this is the official "Croatian Mausoleum," the names of Croatian families are found on many other mausoleums and gravesites in the cemetery.

This, best I could, was in memorial to the Dalmatian Society of Punta Arenas. I don't know if that means that the Croatians who emigrated to the extreme southern tip of South America were from Dalmatia, or whether the emigrees from Dalmatia separated themselves from the Croatians from the rest of Croatia.

But the cemetery is where the Croatian heritage of Punta Arenas may be found.

This is El Monumento al Ovejero.

I recognized the part of the word "ove" as being a word related to "sheep" both in Croatian ("ovce") and Spanish ("ovejo"), so I thought this was a monument to the shepherd. No. It's a monument to the sheepdog.

This is a dog-loving town, by the way. Well-cared-for town dogs. Signs for dog adoptions. They love their dogs.

Not sure of the above, but below is El Monumento al Inmigrante Croata.

Monument to the Croatian Immigrant. You don't even have these in places like Pittsburgh that also had a lot of Croatian migration. The monument looks vaguely communistic, although the Croatian migration pre-dated Tito's communism by several decades.

This monument hammers home the Croatian theme of this block on the Avenida:

Unmistakably a Croatian "chequy" as part of the Croatian coat of arms. In Punta Arenas! In the extreme southern tip of South America!

Finally, after a couple of kilometers of walking, I reach this:

 

Monumento al Petroleo. The Monument to Petroleum. We should have these in all cities, seeing how important fossil fuels and petroleum have been to the development of the modern world.

I don't know if this is an oil-drilling area. I don't think it is much of one, if it is. The monument looks like a well shooting out crude oil. But in the flow of crude is a human hand and a human face. It's actually kind of creepy, even if I do like with the honorable intentions.

After a long day, I worked up an appetite. And, this time, I wanted a real meal. So I headed back to El Taberno. I ordered the grilled salmon.

The rivers and fjords of extreme southern Chile are filled with salmon. So it's fresh and local, served on a bed of creamy quinoa. My beverage was a ginger lemonade. It tasted like lemonade, only with ginger. And I love ginger.

The meal hit the spot, so I had a "traditional sour" cocktail for dessert.

This is Chile, so I think the "traditional" way of mixing a sour is with pisco, not whiskey. I wanted a pisco sour, which is the national cocktail in Chile (but different from the pisco sour that is the national cocktail of Peru). This is what they served. So I think "traditional sour" in Chile means "pisco sour."

This concludes my trip to Chile. Soon it will be time to wing it back to the States. My only complaint about visiting Chile is: why didn't I come here sooner? Why did it take me 63 1/2 years to get here? So much world and I waited longer than I should have to start exploring it in earnest.

Sea Lions!

 

Sea lions! On the beach! In the surf! Everywhere.

The second destination du jour for the ferry-boat was Isla Marta, an even smaller speck of rock north of Isla Magdalena in the Straits of Magellan.

How small of a speck?

That small.

Another ferry-boat beat us to the island.

We did not "stop" and disembark on Isla Marta. Sea lions are not penguins, for one thing.

These are better to observe at a safe distance.

Fortunately, my camera had "zoom," in the old sense of a "zoom" lens, not in the modern sense of interactive computer meeting software where someone forgets to mute their microphone and lots of people have fake backgrounds that cause parts of their body to disappear from the viewing screen. Not that "zoom." 20th Century zoom.

A very large kelp "forest" surrounds the island. It's visible in this picture.

This is as much of a close-up zoom as I could zoom from the offshore distance.

The beach, at least, was lousy with sea lions.

Some were swimming, as one would expect mammals to do at a beach.

The kelp is waiting to be devoured.

Soon it was time to fly.

And time for the ferry-boat to motor its way back to Punta Arenas.

Besides, it was time for lunch.

I chose a sandwich restaurant: Lomito's.

There are no fast food chain restaurants in Punta Arenas. Nor were there any on Isla de Pascua. There weren't even that many in Santiago, just the occasional KFC. I don't even think I've seen a McDonald's in this country.

I ordered the "Lomito con queso," a pork sandwhich with lots and lots of cheese. Washed down by a "shop" of Austral. "Shop" is the local term for "draft." I had the Califate (the one with the hint of wild blueberries) instead of my "usual" Yagan dark ale.

 

It hit the spot. Now I needed a nap after these two very-early starting days.