FROM BUENOS AIRES TO VALPARAISO OVERLAND
Though Meiggs was denied the glory of having built the first South
American trans-continental railway, yet the idea has been carried to
fruition, but at a point much farther south than he contemplated.
Again, whereas the audacious Philadelphian engineer proposed only to
establish his Atlantic terminus on the upper reaches of the Amazon,
the completed line runs down to the water’s edge on either coast, the
two opposite ports connected in this manner being Buenos Aires on the
Atlantic, and Valparaiso on the Pacific, coasts.
The Trans-andine railway itself, which completes this connection,
however, only extends from Mendoza at the foot of the mountain chain on
the Argentine side, to Los Andes on the Chilian slopes of the range.
These two points are 156 miles apart, but the metals had to be lifted
11,500 feet into the air to bring them together.
When it was decided to connect Mendoza and Los Andes together in this
manner, the first-named town was in direct touch with the Atlantic
Ocean, the Buenos Aires & Pacific railway having thrown its meshes
inland to the foot of the mountains. This was not a difficult matter,
owing to the flatness of the country, pampas plains for the most part
prevailing. The result is that in the climb from Buenos Aires to
Mendoza only 2,470 feet has to be overcome in 650 miles. Consequently,
the gradients are so slight as to be practically imperceptible. Indeed,
so simple was construction that it was found possible to lay the metals
in an absolutely straight line for no less than 210 miles--the longest
stretch of “straight” line in the world.
It was in 1886 that the first preliminaries in the actual construction
of this final link in the coast-to-coast railway was made. The
surveys showed the feasibility of the scheme, though it was pointed
out that to climb over the Andes would entail work of a peculiar
character, and that the cost would be tremendous. The critical point
was the negotiation of the summit itself, for the mountain pass is
at an altitude of 12,796 feet. Though commenced in 1886, the scheme
experienced many changes of fortune which hindered construction time
after time. Financial and labour troubles were the two most retarding
factors. By 1891 only 57½ miles were open to traffic; four years later
only witnessed the passing of the 90th milestone. Such slow progress
was deplorable in comparison with the building of the Oroya and
Mollendo railways.
Then came a delay of four years, but in 1899 work was resumed and was
pushed forward to completion. On the Chilian side, owing to similar
troubles, construction was possible only in spurts, and even when the
financial details were adjusted satisfactorily, the scarcity of labour
remained a thorny problem.
The surveys showed that the most practical route westwards from Mendoza
was by following the course of the river of that name right into the
mountain range. In this manner extensive blasting and heavy cutting
could be avoided, except where the mountain-sides dropped abruptly into
the river, and then these would have to be tunnelled.
The constructional engineers followed this location, but only to run
full-tilt into another difficulty which had not been foreseen. The
Mendoza is a South American replica of China’s ill-fated Hoang-ho.
In the low season its placid waters roll leisurely to the ocean, but
when it is swollen by the melting snows it tears along with fiendish
velocity. As its banks are composed only of the soft alluvium brought
down from the mountains, the foaming waters do not find this a very
difficult obstacle, and accordingly carry it away in tremendous
quantities. As a result, the river is for ever changing its channel.
To the railway engineers such eccentricities proved serious
factors. They realised speedily that here was a situation peculiarly
exasperating, for long lengths of track were swept away bodily time
after time. It never could be anticipated where the turbulent water
would break its bounds next. A stretch of permanent way, left safe
and sound in the morning, sometimes was wiped out of existence before
nightfall. All that could be seen of the work possibly was the rails
dipping into the water on one bank and reappearing on the other, the
intervening section describing a graceful festoon in the depths of the
muddy torrent. At times the waters were more freakish. They would burst
upon the track with such violence as to wrench the metals apart; then
only the jagged, twisted ends jutting mournfully into the air on either
side of the new river channel were the sole remnants of the track.
The engineers tried innumerable expedients to preserve the line from
these erratic attacks, but without any material success for some
time. At last they decided to provide the river with an artificial
embankment, and to lay the track well back from the waterway.
Trainloads of huge masses of stone were brought to the vulnerable
points and pitched at the foot of the embankment, which was raised to a
height well above flood-level. Thousands of tons of stone were dumped
in this manner, and it was found that it afforded complete protection,
because the water could not dislodge the masonry pitching to eat its
way into the soft earth beneath. The artificial dyke solved the problem
of how to keep the rushing, boisterous Mendoza within bounds.
Avalanches and snowslides were another constant menace. Their
accustomed paths had to be noted carefully and then studiously given a
wide berth. These convulsions are of impressive severity in the Andes,
and the impetus the slides gain, owing to the steepness and length of
the declivities down which they tumble, imparts terrific force to them.
When a slender railway stands in their path it is caught up like straw
and scattered in all directions. Possibly the landslides are more to
be dreaded than the movements of the snow. In the Andes the denuding
forces of Nature are exceptionally heavy. Many a mountain slope which,
from a cursory inspection, looks substantial and solid, upon closer
investigation proves to be merely a thick layer, perhaps many feet in
thickness, of soft detritus. The slightest vibration is sufficient
to set the mass in motion, and it slides slowly and irresistibly
downwards. At some places it was found impossible to avoid such
unstable ground, so the engineers ingeniously cut a passage through the
soft rubble, taking care to reach the solid mountain flank beneath upon
which to build the track, while the detritus was held back by means of
massive concrete masonry walls.
Under such circumstances it is imperative that the track should be of
the most solid character, if it is designed to fulfil the conditions
of a trunk highway. The road bed is well built, laid with metals to a
metre-gauge, and ballasted heavily. All earthworks are carried out on
liberal lines, and the bridges are built throughout of steel.
When the main range is gained the line becomes more devious, the banks
are sharper and more numerous, the short tunnels and the bridges across
the rivers more frequent, for the location caused the line to swing
from bank to bank as being more economical construction than to blast
and carve a way for the line through the solid rock of the cliffs. At
places the rises became so abrupt as to defy operation by adhesion.
Then short lengths of rack where cog-wheels on the locomotive mesh with
a toothed rail laid between the ordinary rails, and working similar
to a rack and pinion, had to be inserted to enable the train to climb
upwards.
A striking evidence of the distance saved by the railway is afforded
between Mendoza and Upsallata station. As the crow flies the distance
is 40 miles due east; by rail it is 17 miles farther; but by the old
mountain road which converges upon the line at Upsallata it is no
less than 100 miles! The latter makes a wide, sweeping detour after
leaving Mendoza in order to avoid the foot-hills, and to ensure an
easy gradient for animal traffic. The wildest part of the range is
encountered when the Mendoza River is left and the railway enters the
Amarillo, or Yellow Gorge. Incidentally, the line through this rift was
one of the most costly and difficult sections to build. Las Cuevas,
at an altitude of 10,388 feet, was the objective, and so great is the
difference in level within a few miles that some daring development
work had to be carried out. The first sign of this steep climb is a
Meiggs V-switch. The rack was adopted more extensively, this being
introduced between short stretches of easier grade or sections of
level, so that the railway really ascends in the form of a series of
gigantic steps. The rack is of the three-toothed type similar to that
so familiar on the Swiss mountain railways.
In winding through the gorge some of the most impressive vistas
of Andine majesty are unfolded. There is the snow-capped crest of
Aconcagua, beetling 23,500 feet to the sky, Tupungato 21,451 feet,
Tolosa 19,000 feet, and many another white-hooded mountain giant. The
Trans-andine ranks as one of the greatest scenic railways in the world,
for it unlocked the door to what previously was regarded as one of
the most inaccessible sight-seeing centres on this globe. Already its
station at Inca has developed into a popular mountaineering rendezvous,
whence the ambitious essay to scale the caps of the Cordilleras. Some
idea of the stupendous character of the railway’s ascent in this region
may be gathered from the fact that in the last 8 miles to Las Cuevas
it rises no less than 1,414 feet, and at this latter station the track
lies nearly 2 miles above the Atlantic.
Las Cuevas is at the foot of the summit ridge which is pierced by
the tunnel carrying the railway into Chile. This part of the work
proved the most trying, for it involved wrestling with innumerable
difficulties of great magnitude and peculiar character, such as are
experienced very seldom in tunnelling operations. Though the range is
not pierced at such an altitude as by the famous Galera tunnel in the
country next door, yet it is three times as long.
The engineers had to drill, blast and excavate their way through the
rock of the ridge for 10,000 feet--nearly two miles--and at times
the obstacles that loomed up suddenly proved extremely perplexing.
The completion of this work delayed the opening of the railway
considerably, for calculations and anticipations were upset rudely when
excavation commenced.
Some time passed before the precise design of the tunnel could be
settled. At first it was decided to describe a spiral in the peak so
as to accommodate the level of the Argentine division with that of the
Chile section of the line. The tunnel was to be driven from either end
by the engineers of the respective railways, which were two distinct
undertakings. The two armies were to meet at mid-tunnel immediately
beneath the famous statue of Christo Redentor, commemorating the treaty
of peace between Argentina and Chile, which stands upon the boundary
line of the two countries in the pass above.
On the Argentine side the camps for the tunnel works were established
at Las Cuevas, about 1½ miles below the portal. When boring was
commenced the engineers’ advance was threatened. The depth of the
loose, friable earth eroded from the peaks above, which had accumulated
during the flight of centuries, proved much greater than was supposed.
This entailed most elaborate timbering to prevent the roof caving in
and burying the excavators. As all lumber had to be brought up from
Mendoza, for this desolate region is far above the timber line, heavy
delays arose pending the arrival of the wood. Then they had to move
forward warily foot by foot, as the detritus proved treacherous to
handle. The engineers ploughed their way through this material for 300
feet, and felt relieved when at last they struck solid rock, which
they rightly thought was the main body of the mountain. Elaborate
arrangements were made to drive ahead more rapidly, but when the mass
had been penetrated for nearly 200 feet the engineers received another
rude shock. The rock was false. What they had fondly thought to be the
mountain itself was merely a huge crag which had become detached and
had slipped down bodily.
Here was a critical dilemma. The work was far too risky for aught
but expert tunnel-builders--engineers who had made a speciality of
such undertakings, and who were possessed of competent ability and
facilities to cope successfully with any contingency likely to develop.
As a result of careful deliberations it was decided to hand the whole
tunnel--lock, stock and barrel, from end to end--to one firm. Selection
fell upon the British engineers, Messrs. C. H. Walker & Company, who
rescued the famous Severn tunnel from flood, and successfully completed
it in the face of unheard-of difficulties.
These engineers at once attacked the problem boldly. It was found
that the false rock on the Argentine side extended for no less than
1,670 feet, so that it must have been a most violent shiver of Nature,
indeed, which let loose that mountain spur. The situation, however, was
grasped so completely that within two years the range was pierced.
Yet it was not so much the engineering difficulties that this firm
feared when they essayed the task, but the altitude at which it had
to be accomplished. Again, there were difficulties incidental to
transport, and the situations of the workings so far from any base.
These were very great. It must be remembered that during the winter
months--that is, from April to October--the tunnel workings and
camps were cut off practically from the outside world. To plan one’s
arrangements during the short summer so that when isolated there was
no lack of material, food for the workmen, housing accommodation, as
well as provision made for a thousand-and-one other details which were
bound to arise, demanded considerable foresight, for work had to be
maintained as steadily during the winter snows as under the summer sun.
It is not every workman who will volunteer, or is physically capable,
to brave the dangers attending the wielding of pick, shovel,
wheelbarrow and explosives in the rarefied atmosphere and the adverse
climatic conditions prevailing in winter among the highest altitudes
of the Andes. The cold is intense, the snowfall is tremendous, and the
winds rage with terrific fury. The frozen snow and ice are driven like
sand in all directions, and with such force that they cut like a knife,
and penetrate every crevice.
Labour, indeed, proved a wearisome difficulty. Chilians figured
most prominently among the workmen, and they proved to be very good
labourers. There were a few Italians among them, with Englishmen
occupying the controlling positions. At each end of the tunnel
elaborate hospitals were erected replete with competent medical
attention, for in addition to accidents there were the innumerable
maladies provoked by the reduced atmospheric pressure which, unless
skilfully tended in the incipient stages, are apt to develop
very serious symptoms. Pneumonia was the chief cause of illness,
attributable to insufficient clothing and care on the part of the
Chilians. But after all is said and done, work at such an altitude is
terribly exhausting under the most favourable conditions.
On the Chilian side the constructional work was more imposing in
character. It is only 46 miles from the Pacific portal of the tunnel to
Los Andes, where junction is effected with the State railway systems.
In this short distance there is a difference of some 8000 feet in
levels, and the drop in the first 7 miles from the tunnel mouth is no
less than 3,150 feet. The engineers were hard pushed to devise ways
and means to lay the track so that it could be operated by the usual
railway methods. Heavy grades, ranging from 6 to 8 per cent., could
not be avoided to communicate each successive gallery carrying the
metals along the mountain sides. The rack had to be resorted to freely,
and the result is that the line describes a remarkable zigzag course,
strikingly recalling the wonderful Stelvio road in the Tyrol.
At one point there is a very impressive piece of engineering. The line
winds along the hill-side high up on the bank of the rushing Aconcagua
River, disappears into a tunnel through a spur, and then emerges at the
other side on the brink of a narrow chasm--the Soldier’s Leap. This is
a mere wedge-shaped fissure in the rock, but a few feet in width, and
through which the river tumbles over 200 feet below. A narrow bridge
carries the line across the rift to a narrow ledge blasted out of the
opposite cliff-face where the mountains overhang the water.
The resources of the engineers will be taxed to a supreme degree in
order to keep the line clear from snow during the winter. In fact, it
was asserted freely that for about six months in the year the upper
levels of the line would be well-nigh impassable. The engineers on
the spot, however, have risen to the occasion. They have studied the
massive hills of snow which, lashed into furious whirl-storms by the
hurricane winds, sweep rapidly and irresistibly forward, often burying
the railway to a depth of 30 feet or more. A powerful rotary plough
was placed in service to tackle this obstacle, and although found
highly successful in the places where the line was open, it could not
be utilised in the deep cuttings. Special situations demand special
methods. So the engineers set to work to devise their own means of
combating Boreas in his wildest fury. They evolved a push-plough of a
special wedge-shape pattern which can attack a 16-foot drift and cut
a channel clean through it with ease. The trouble is not so much the
snow, but the large masses of rock which are rolled down the mountain
sides, and lurk in the white mass. When a rotary strikes one of these
formidable boulders when running at full speed, the auger-like rotating
mechanism is smashed to pieces, and the whole apparatus is thrown out
of action. With the special push-plough, however, no such disaster
is to be feared. The nose of the apparatus glides over the concealed
obstruction without suffering any damage whatever, and the boulder can
be removed by manual labour, as a skilled gang of snow-clearers are
attached to every snow-plough train.
A new line is approaching completion among the Andes which compels
attention, even in South America, the land of railway wonders. This is
the new main line which is to connect La Paz, the capital of Bolivia,
with the coast. Hitherto, in order to gain the metropolis of the
interior land-locked State, one has had to embark upon a circuitous
journey either via the Antofagasta railway and its connections, or by
means of the Peruvian Southern railway from Mollendo, by way of Lake
Titicaca and Puno.
The new line starts from the coast at Arica and follows as straight
a line to La Paz as the configuration of the country permits. The
outstanding feature of this enterprise is the extreme altitude at which
it lies for the greater part of its length, this ranging between 12,000
and 14,000 feet above the Pacific. Another fact is that the summit is
not overcome by a tunnel, but the line passes right over the crests.
The line measures 292 miles in length, and the sudden rise from the
coast into the mountain country is effected by means of the toothed
rail or rack system, the aggregate length of which is no less than 40
miles.
Some idea of the conditions that confronted the railway-builders was
afforded in the course of the surveys. In many places the engineers had
to blast a trail out of the hard, solid rock with dynamite in order to
advance. There are about 70 tunnels, though none are very long, for
the most part piercing shoulders and spurs of the main range which
could not be compassed or removed. At places very heavy bridging is
essential, the spanning of one gorge in particular having presented a
pretty problem. This ravine is 150 feet in width, and is crossed in a
single span 150 feet above the raging river.
Here, again, the extreme rarefaction of the atmosphere is a serious
disadvantage against which the engineers have had to contend, while
the fluctuations in temperature are extremely great. A difference of
113 degrees in the course of a day is by no means uncommon. At noon
the thermometer will stand at 100, by nightfall it has dropped to 0.13
degrees. Such a rise and fall are tremendous, for at Greenwich, it may
be pointed out, the same daily fluctuation averages about 17 degrees.
Again, in the highest altitudes through which the line threads its
way, water boils at 180 degrees, as compared with 212 degrees on the
coast. In order to enable the workmen to prepare their food in such
exposed, lofty situations, special vessels have had to be devised to
prevent the water boiling over, for this result ensues long before the
food is cooked properly, and the loss of water, even of only a pint, in
such parched regions is a serious matter. In some places the country
is as arid as the Sahara, and the water has had to be transported over
great distances in barrels slung on the backs of mules. Large packs
of these animals have been pressed into service for this work only.
Similarly, the building material has had to be carried from the coast
to the constructional camps strung out along the proposed route, by
means of this ship of the Andes.
The work was carried out from both ends simultaneously, one tentacle
being thrown out from the junction with the Bolivian State railways
westwards, and the other eastwards from the coast. The cost of
providing the capital of Bolivia with this direct outlet to the Pacific
approximates £3,000,000, or $15,000,000. Bearing in mind the high cost
of the other Andean railways, this last conquest of the South American
mountain backbone may be considered low.