Rodrigo Troncoso

Fifteen years fishing at the bottom of the world

In 1994 I boarded an industrial fishing vessel with Pesca Chile S.A. and left. It wasn't a romantic voyage of discovery — it was hard work, long watches, the southern Chilean sea in winter, and Antarctica doing whatever Antarctica does in any season. Nothing that doesn't teach you to respect yourself and the ocean.

I spent fifteen years like that. Chilean fjords, open ocean, and the coasts of Africa — both east and west, because when the fishing is good, the ship goes where the fish are, not where the tourists are. I was Captain and Fishing Master in those years, which in practical terms meant I was responsible for finding the fish, catching it, and bringing the ship home in one piece.

What I learned in those years isn't in any IMO course — things like how to read weather before it reads you, how to enter a fjord that doesn't appear on the navigation charts, how to make decisions when there's no connection anywhere and the nearest port is three or four days away.

The offshore world: when the sea turned to oil

In 2010 I made a turn. I left fishing and entered the international offshore sector — tugboats, platforms, supply vessels, diving operations. What the industry calls PSV, AHTS, DSV, FSIV. Acronyms that sound boring but hide stories that aren't.

I worked for Bourbon Offshore, Tidewater Marine and ABC Maritime, and my clients were Total, Petrobras, Chevron, PDVSA, British Gas. That took me to places most people point to on a map and ask "is that safe?":

Every place has its own maritime character. Angola has currents that don't appear in the models. The Gulf of Guinea gives you weather in five minutes. Caribbean waters seem friendly until they aren't. I filed all of that away — not on paper, but in that part of the brain that works before you consciously think.

Total S.A. approved me as Master to operate in their Congo oil fields — which anyone who knows the sector knows is no small formality. 749 days recorded in my DP Logbook, certified by the Nautical Institute of London with an unlimited license. Numbers, but behind each day is a real operation with real results.

Back south: the Patagonian fjords

In 2023 I came back to Chile. Not out of tiredness of the world — but because the Patagonian fjords are the most demanding and most beautiful place I have ever navigated. I operate today in wellboats in the austral channels: specialized vessels working in aquaculture in areas where GPS isn't enough, where channels shift with the tide, and where the weather does whatever it wants.

I hold authorizations to navigate without a pilot in all of Chile's austral channels — the Strait of Magellan, Cape Horn, the Beagle Canal, the Chonos Archipelago, the Chiloé channels, and more. It's not paper collecting: it's the result of actually sailing those waters, in real conditions, year after year.

Why Hijo del Mar exists

I've seen many things at sea. I've seen mistakes that cost lives. I've seen poorly equipped boats head into waters that don't forgive. I've talked to people who bought their first sailboat with enthusiasm but without information — and then had to sell it, or worse.

Hijo del Mar exists so that doesn't happen to you. I'm not an instructor teaching from theory. I'm someone who has navigated those channels at night, who has chosen safety equipment that he later had to use for real, who has assessed vessels in ports on four continents.

If you're planning a passage, buying your first boat, or simply want to understand what gear you need to go out with confidence — that's exactly what I do here. No script, no nautical marketing, no selling you what you don't need.