Argentina’s Perito Moreno Glacier so enchanted DAMIAN HALL he went back to see it again, though his travel companion was more reluctant.
What’s the difference between a glacier and an iceberg, then?” asked my girlfriend, doing her best to remain thoroughly unexcited about our visit to the Perito Moreno Glacier, in Argentine Patagonia’s Los Glaciares National Park.
“Well, it was an iceberg that sank the Titanic. And a glacier doesn’t float, as such … it’s sort of like a frozen river.”
“Great. So can we ice skate on it then?” Never go back, they say. But having been completely seduced by the glacier four years ago while travelling alone through Argentina, I had to. Solo travelling, with all its indulgences and whimsical decisions, has its drawbacks. When you see something truly amazing you instinctively want to share it with someone you know. You need someone to accredit your sense of appreciation.
I was in love with a mind-bogglingly glorious piece of geology. But, as I found out, going a hell of a long way just to see a big lump of ice doesn’t appeal to everyone.
El Calafate has changed almost unrecognisably. The town is solely reliant on glacier tourism, and yet it’s booming. A population of 2000 has swelled to around 10,000 and the streets are a mess of building sites, albeit with the tantalising backdrop of the Andes 30km away. A 90-minute bus journey takes us into Los Glaciares National Park, which supports the largest icecap outside Antarctica.
A glacier is probably best understood as a more or less permanent body of ice and compacted snow that has become large and heavy enough to move under its own weight. They aren’t actually frozen rivers – they never flowed – but colossal tongues of ice, magnificent remnants of various ice ages. Due to gravity, they tend to move like a river in extreme slow-motion.
The Moreno Glacier is unique in many ways. Notably, it’s one of very few in the world still advancing – at an estimated rate of two metres a day. The shifting ice kingdom has reached out of Lago Argentino 12 times in the past 100 years. As it struggles to invade the land the water sweeps its legs away, leaving a remarkable bridge effect. This last happened in March 2004, making headline news around the world when it finally crumbled.
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Moreno also talks, or at least grumbles and groans. House-sized bits break off it all day long giving a startlingly loud crack, like a rifle shot, as the glacier winces and breaks under the pressure of the push from behind. Then there’s a roar as it punches the water.
Everyone turns to try to pinpoint the escaping piece but usually you’ll only see a large wave starting out across the lake. If you hear it,” says our guide, “you’ve already missed it.” People sit staring at the glacial face for hours, hopelessly enchanted, waiting for bits to drop off.
A second visit is as rewarding as the first. We catch a boat (on which you can buy a whisky iced with fragments of the glacier) for a closer look. At 265 km_ in all, the glacier is similar in size to Buenos Aires. The glacial face is around 5km long, an intimidating 60m high, with another 100m underwater.
You don’t really appreciate the staggering grandeur until you’re up close. There you can also gawp at the beauty in all its intricacies; the sensual curves and crevices, the chemical blue glow. The texture looks a little like a Flake chocolate bar, ready to crumble off and be replaced by equally handsome shards from behind.
Put simply, the glacier is irresistibly mesmerising in its beauty and charisma. It’s an entirely new vision, like seeing a newborn baby, or perhaps alien life forms. While my camera begs for a rest, my formerly cynical girlfriend suggests that Moreno looks something like a huge army of drunken druids, returning from some sort of druidy piss-up. She, too, is irredeemably smitten.
Glaciers and global warming
Why is the Perito Moreno Glacier advancing while so many of its friends are retreating?
No clear explanation is yet agreed upon by glaciologists. What is beyond dispute is that since 1980, and even more markedly since 1995, glacial retreat has become increasingly rapid and widespread. Many glaciers have melted completely and others are seriously threatened. It is estimated that the total surface area of glaciers worldwide has decreased by 50% since the end of the 19th century (not including the polar icecaps)
The ramifications
Increased melting would cause greater flow for several decades. After that, many high population areas are likely to run out of water. The loss of glaciers directly causes landslides, flash floods, glacial lake overflow and similar side effects. South America and Central Asia, where many depend on glacial melt for irrigating crops and drinking water, would both suffer badly. In Norway, the Alps, and the Pacific Northwest of North America, glacier runoff is vital for hydropower. Also, countless plants and animals are dependent on glacier-fed waters.”
