Have you ever heard of Moat? I imagine not - only the people that live and work here really know anything about it. Yet it's right here, a radar station at the End of the World. The southernmost point in the Americas which can be reached by car. Further south than Ushuaia, the archetypal pan-South American expedition destination; further south than Puerto Williams; and about 10 miles north of Puerto Toro, the southernmost settlement of the world, outside of the Antarctic, which lies on the island of Navarino.
A few meters below, at the foot of the cliff on which we stand, the Beagle Channel pounds ancient rocks and the bleached bones of dead trees. Whales attack humans here, that’s how wild it is here. A chill south wind is the only noise alongside the humming of the antennas of a radar station belonging to the Argentine Navy. It is the last outpost at the end of the last leg of our journey. An epic journey.
Sixteen and a half thousand kilometers across the whole of South America in two Trabants, a tiny Polish Fiat 126 Maluch and a Jawa 250 bike from 1957. We are Czechs, Poles and Slovaks heading into Guyana, Brazil, Peru, Bolivia, Chile and Argentina. What's the point, you may ask? Well, asking that is just nonsense. We wanted one thing - to demonstrate that when you want something, you can achieve it. Fulfill your dreams and kick back at those who question you.
They told us that our group simply could not pass across the Amazonian rainforest standing in our way. They said that our undersized 2-stroke engines would not work over four thousand meters. We faced “death” roads on the side of mountains and a brutal drug mafia who might just take our lives for kicks. We laughed, outwardly displaying bravado but, inwardly, secretly afraid.
And now, peering at us, is the perplexed attendant of a radar station, the lighthouse at the end of our new world. We smile apologetically at him. After all, we have just entered a military installation with a motorised column that is anything but camouflaged. Instead of opening fire, he invites us further, perhaps stunned to see us and even curious. Inside is quiet and flooded with light. Antennas outside, the radar screen is all flickering flashes and he talks softly to himself, or into a radio, in Spanish and alongside the only person in this strange place at the end of the world, we brew tea. Outside, the wind buffets our small military building and the waves crash against the rocks whilst we play hot tin.