It’s been 25 years since I first travelled to Patagonia and had my heart captured by its amazing wild landscapes. When I founded Swoop 10 years later, the region was on the cusp of change, with increasing tourist numbers and many of the challenges that can bring to both the environment and local communities.
I didn’t set out for Swoop to be an eco-travel company, but the global context demands that we behave as one. Companies have an important positive societal role to play, especially in a time of climate emergency and an uncertain global political system. It’s one reason why we chose to become a B Corp, as well as setting up the Swoop Conservation Fund to allow us and our travellers to contribute to environmental projects.
Swoop has always existed to offer our travellers transformative experiences at the very ends of the earth, and we can only continue to do this by ensuring that these precious places thrive now – and for generations to come. Done well, I firmly believe that instead of being a burden on fragile ecosystems, tourism can be a way of protecting them and making a positive difference.
This is something I saw on my most recent trip to Patagonia, when I visited Aysen – a remote and beautiful part of Chile that’s at the forefront of developing tourism truly centred on its environment and communities.
The Carretera Austral highway is the lifeline for the people who live here. It runs for nearly 1300 km through Aysen, but the challenge of road building in such a rugged environment—where the mountains themselves rise up against man and machine—means that the road is only paved in its northern sector. Once you approach the incredible turquoise of Lago General Carrera south of the Cerro Castillo massif, the tarmac gives way to an almost endless rough dirt track.
The Route of the Parks is a network of 17 National Parks, stretching in an almost unbroken corridor from the bottom of the Chilean Lake District to the tip of Tierra del Fuego in the far south. The project was first announced in 2015 and now covers a third of the entire country, aiming to promote local economic growth through conservation and tourism, as well as protecting an area that’s second only to the Amazon rainforest in South America in terms of its importance as a carbon sink. In doing so, the Route of the Parks has brought together more than 60 local communities to work alongside NGOs, government and tour operators to create positive change for the region. Many of these operators are friends and partners that Swoop has been proud to work with for years.
One of the greatest successes along the Route has been the establishment of Patagonia National Park in Aysen. Thanks to the pioneering work of Rewilding Chile, the NGO born from Tompkins Conservation, a vast area once denuded of nature has been transformed into a true haven for wildlife. In the park’s Chacabuco Valley, formerly home to a vast ranch whose livestock had grazed it clean, I was astounded at the numbers of guanaco I saw. It was clear evidence of what happens when the fences come down and nature is given a chance to breathe. And wherever there are guanaco, pumas follow – apex predators are one of the truest signs of a healthy ecosystem.
As well as offering world-class campsites to encourage backpackers as well as those staying in nearby lodges, the park’s visitor centre offers a powerful portrayal of biodiversity loss, climate change and the need to protect all species – as well as the opportunities to do better. It was a great model for engaging travellers – and one that I’d love to see across the region, especially in places like Torres del Paine, where the challenges of large-scale tourism have become clear – but where people are receptive to receiving these messages in an environment far removed from their everyday life.
Near the entrance of the park at Cochrane, I was invited to join the Manku Project, who are working with Rewilding Chile to rehabilitate and rerelease injured condors. More pumas hunting more guanacos are a good thing for condors, who depend on carrion for food. Unfortunately some farmers see pumas as a threat to their livestock and are known to lace guanaco carcasses with poison to kill them, in turn poisoning the condors too.
On the day I visited, three condors were due for release into a large transition pen in the park to prepare themselves to be returned to the wild. Two of which were recovering from poisoning, while a third had suffered a broken wing. We watched as the staff opened the pen and the three birds hesitantly stepped out. Then the wind came up and they opened their wings and lifted themselves effortlessly into the air. Before long they would be soaring free again. It was very moving to witness these birds—true emblems of Chile—enjoying their first steps back to freedom, in a place that’s at the forefront of environmental tourism.
The other animal on Chile’s coat of arms is even more endangered – the diminutive huemul deer. We were taken to a new 12-acre huemul rescue centre on the edge of Cerro Castillo National Park. The park is home to around 150 huemuls – 10% of the country’s entire population. The new centre aims to treat injured or sick wild deer to improve its chances of survival.
The new rescue centre is part of the Huemul Corridor Project. Habitat loss is one of the leading threats to the huemul, with small populations becoming ever more isolated from each other. By connecting local huemul strongholds by rewilding and other protection measures, once fragmented populations can mix and maintain the genetic diversity needed for the deer’s long-term survival.
I heard the Spanish word corredor again and again on my trip. The Route of the Parks is the grandest corridor, made for tourists as well as conservation. But it’s underpinned by smaller and equally vital efforts such as this one to protect the huemul.
This isn’t just a top-down initiative. One of the most compelling stories I heard was at Estancia La Naviera in Mallín Grande, just off the main Carretera Austral on the shores of Lago General Carrera. This tiny community was once centred on boat building, but has been shrinking as its people have sought out better economic opportunities elsewhere. The owner Domingo told me how the estancia had been built by his grandfather, but that he was now the only member of the family still living there.
For Domingo, part of the answer to Mallín Grande’s situation is tourism. By opening his doors to visitors alongside other businesses, he and his wife and children are bringing in money and employment opportunities, enabling a new school to be built – and for the community to grow rather than shrink.
Domingo was also passionate about protecting the land, so that it can be part of the wider huemul corridor to Patagonia National Park. Done like this, tourism draws the line between supporting communities and the biodiversity of the landscapes they live in.
My fellow travellers on my trip through Aysen were all specialists who had worked across the globe connecting conservation and tourism. Our excited discussions about condors, huemuls and national parks were brought into sharp relief by meeting people like Domingo. Stories like his reinforced my belief that tourism offers us the chance to do something better, and raise our expectations of what we can achieve together.
I may not have started Swoop to be an environment-first travel company 15 years ago – but I’m looking forward to the next 15, especially after this potent reminder of how tourism can be a force for good, both for the communities we visit and the wildlife they share these amazing landscapes with.
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