The vast circumferences of the sea surrounding the island is like a golden ornament guarding a capricious natural wilderness full of contrasts. Along the paths the muchay, luma and naranjillo fight their way through the undergrowth seeking the sun. The village of San Juan Bautista in Cumberland Bay has a distinctly forgotten appearance. The few souls that roam the streets seemed to do so without curiosity or interest - thoughts lost in time. A cluster of huts crowd the narrow shore and cling precipitously to the mountainside rising rapidly from the sea, lost in seas of eucalyptus, guayaba and chanta trees.
Waterfalls trickle down the steep mountains.
During storms, these often grew into raging torrents, sweeping rocks and trees down the mountains in destructive force. A village street in San Juan Bautista. The village rises abruptly from the ocean and the mountain behind the village towers 3000 feet. Most of the villagers are of spanish descent. There is only one vehicle on Juan Fernandez, the mail jeep.