Who Hides Behind The Friendship? (parts II and III)

by Josep Guijarro

[...] The answer to all these questions might be hiding in Nuñoa, the Santiago de Chile neighborhood where Hugo Pacheco lives. The veteran ufologist meets there, every saturday, with a small group of people in order to "prepare" them for contact with the Friendship. "They are much more spiritually developed than we are." he states.

Pacheco was one of the first to learn of the Friendship in the mid-Eighties. "Ernesto de la Fuente came to my home," he remembers. "He was a sound engineer interested in learning if our research had found the link between ourselves and the space beings."

The intriguing character owned property in Santa Rosa de Chena and a ranch on Chiloé, not far from the village of Quemchi. That is where he met the members of the bizarre congregations. Ernesto spent long hours in front of his radio transmitter. The cattlemen would boast that some "gringos" were purchasing sick beef cattle for three times the going rate, and De la Fuente took umbrage at this. Years earlier he had worked as a war correspondent in Vietnam and had developed certain empathy toward the Americans, and perhaps this made him feel the urge to warn them of the injustice. It was thus that he met Ariel (see Inexplicata #3) who along with fourteen of his fellows would come into port to purchase provisions.

The island of Chiloé is certainly synonymous with isolation. Up to recently, telephone lines were pure fantasy and the majority of the streets and roads were unpaved. Electricity is notable for its absence, so it is considerably difficult to find one's way after dark.

One stormy night, there was a knock at Ernesto's door, some 15 kilometers from the nearest town. At the doorstep were three tall men with Scandinavian looks. "We would like to speak with you," they said. Ernesto allowed them to come in.

"We are the brothers from the island. We know about you, we know that you're the owner of all this, and we would like to give you the opportunity to become one of us, since we need to attract more people to the ways of the Lord."

Befuddled by how they'd found his residence, the man replied: "But I've never opened a Bible in my life!"

In spite of this, he began collaborating with them. The strangers wore white outfits and their features were remarkably similar, as if from the same multiple birth. The men were by no means Americans, and certainly had nothing to do with the "gringos". Who were they, indeed?

Hugo Pacheco was never invited to the Friendship's mysterious island, but he claims to have pursued, aboard a navy ship, one of the eight vessels that pull into Puerto Montt on a regular basis to resupply the island. This in itself is no mean feat. Chile's 11th Region is made up of thousands of islands separated by fjords and channels which range from a depth of 60 centimeters to 200 meters. Only experienced sailors and military helmsmen dare to navigate those waters. The risk of running aground or striking the rocks is considerable.

Friendship Island Described

According to Ernesto de la Fuente, who actually visited the island, there is a certain point after crossing the Moraleda Channel in which the vessels employed by the Friendship are magnetically guided to their enigmatic island. A entrance amid the rocks opens to provide access to the underground area, which is allegedly "equipped with all manner of advanced gear and electronic devices." De la Fuente was told that all the electronics originated in Valparaíso and in certain instances were brought in from abroad.

Upon reaching the bay, the humans were relieved of their jewelry and wristwatches, receiving in return an odd bracelet through which communications and information may be received. They are also outfitted with very tight white outfits, similar to wet suits, but made of synthetic fibers. According to De la Fuente, after all these preparations were over, the humans were guided to a series of chambers which involved crossing a network of tunnels leading to a variety of temples. Their walls apparently feature some lettering in bas-relief. An elevator whisked him down fourteen levels (everything on Friendship Island is in multiples of seven) and he was able to see a microsociety working in perfect order. Everyone seemed involved in some sort of oceanographic work centered on a hexadecimal computer system.

Ernesto did not notice any hierarchies. "Everyone seemed to know what his job was," but he was startled to see many obviously South American people working in the metal extraction process. These people bore a trident-like logo on their outfits, a symbol he also saw elsewhere in the fantastic site.

During his stay on the island, De la Fuente was able to see the living quarters of Ariel and his followers, but was also told of the existence of rooms having different atmospheric mixes and pressures which had been created for the "Angels of the Lord". Were humans and non-humans co-existing in the same place?

He was finally able to enter one of the temples. It proved to be an ultra-modern location with an old wooden door. Its interior contained an arch covered in Egyptian-style hieroglyphics. A shaft of light fell from the domed ceiling, where it was broken into colors by a prism...

When NASA Steps In

All of these events and the UFO sighting changed the lives of Octavio Ortiz and his family. Glued to the radio every day, they tried to glean more data and clues to the supposed extraterrestrial origin of the Friendship.

The family even says that one day, through the intercession of Raimundo Sepúlveda, the U.S. national space agency, NASA, sent them a log book in which they were to keep careful track of their communications. Along with the logbook --a hard covered volume with the word "RECORD" stenciled on it -- Sepúlveda also gave them a box of ballpoint pens stamped "U.S. GOVERNMENT" on them. Why would the U.S. be interested in the experiences of mere ham radio aficionados? Was there some shadowy plot concealed behind the Friendship?

Contact with the brotherhood has been interrupted for some two years now. The island's residents claimed that the Chilean military was recording their communications and it would henceforth become necessary to try other means of contact, such as telepathy.

Only one person was able to solve this riddle--the only person to have visited the Friendship's island and returned to talk about it, the man considered to be the intermediary between the alleged aliens and mankind: Ernesto de la Fuente.

I picked up the phone and called him to set up an appointment. The phone rang once, twice, twenty times; he wasn't home. Had he gone south for Easter break? There was only one way to find out--by flying out to Quemchi.

This was the sixth time in the past two months that I set foot in Santiago de Chile's Arturo Benítez airport, but on this occasion I was in the domestic terminal, ready to catch the plane that would take me, perhaps toward the definitive answer to the maddening question: were The Friendship an alien base located in southern Chile? Were they just a rumor, or on the contrary, some sort of superpower mind control exercise?

Over 8 hours of flight time separated me from Quemchi, my destination. The whole story had begun some 15 kilometers from this small fishing village. At an estate in this location, owned by Ernesto de la Fuente, the mysterious intergalactic "tenants" were seen for the very first item. That was where they purchased the sick cattle and where they transmitted their message of redemption over the airwaves.

It was also true that the only direct allusion to their alien origin came from the lips of Hugo Pacheco, who had been question by many when he stated that the mysterious beings hailed from beyond the Pleiades. Cristina, who was allow worried by the situation, quizzed the beings on the subject and the enigmatic Ariel told her that while he was the child of a human mother, "we are not of this world, but we belong to humankind." Who, then, were The Friendship?

While waiting for Flight N4171 to be announced, I lost myself in the numerous notes of my logbook. The last interview with the Ortiz family had clarified a number of doubts about the riddle and had also brought about new questions. In the event that it all proved to be a joke, a prank by the ham radio operators, how could one explain the multiple paranormal phenomena related to the situation?

Strange Phenomena

"On one occasion," recalled Octavio Ortiz, "we hypnotized my wife with the intention of transporting her to the island in that state. What's funny is that up until that time we had no background information on the site and Cristina described a subterranean location, a network of tunnels filled with technology. Ariel would later tell us that that was how the island was constructed. It's also curious," he continued, "that during her hypnotic voyage she was guided by a woman named Elga. We had never heard of any women in their community before."

What was truly surprising was that upon establishing radio contact with the Friendship on the following day, Ariel sent them regards from Elga. How was it possible for The Friendship to know about their experiments? Was Cristina really there in an immaterial state? Perhaps the answers to these questions would be within my grasp in the southern reaches.

I was surrounded by a whirlwind of passengers and luggage. My mind, however, only had enough room for the fears and words of Raul Nuñez, my travel companion, who before leaving Spain had warned me about the perils and lack of cooperation I could expect there...words which would unfortunately prove to be prophetic.

Raúl was familiar with the surroundings. He had visited Chiloé in 1995 and had searched for the island in earnest, but the climactic and geographic conditions of the Chonos Archipelago made him desist. Would I achieve my goal? The weather would certainly not make matters any easier. Upon my arrival in Puerto Montt, a powerful storm forced me to remain on continental Chile and wait a day to cross the Chacao Straits: would I meet Ernesto de la Fuente? Would I be able to find some cattle rancher, eyewitness or even perhaps a visitor to the mysterious island?

Mind Control Experiments?

"To say that these people come from the Chonos Archipelago," explained Jorge Anfruns upon learning of my intention of finding the island, "cannot be verified in practical terms."

Surprise was etched upon my face.

"All those who have formed opinions on the canal zone," he added, "do not know them. Third world countries like our own are cut off from state of the art technology. Any person having good radio equipment and decent antennae can deceive us into believing any story they tell..."

Anfruns believes that the Friendship affair is a sociological experiment from beginning to end. But what kind of experiment? Why does it involve normal, middle-class Chileans? When I asked this question of Octavio and Cristina, they chose to reply what The Friendship had offered as an answer during one of their transmissions: "You have the right genetics."

On the other hand, Rodrigo Fuenzalida, a sociologist and president of the AION, considers that the two main families involved in the communications were "good people, but easily manipulated."

Rodrigo set out to prove it. "I went about imitating the voice of The Friendship characters over radio and it worked out well, since I recorded the background noise--"

"In other words, you can hear the carrier, right?"

"From the start. I then imitated their sing-song (referring to the re, mi, do, do notes--see Inexplicata #3) and I called Octavio and his people on three separate occasions, and they all bought it. The communication was so good that The Friendship called on a certain occasion and they thought it was me! They were very easy to manipulate."

What then would be the purpose of this experiment? Who would carry it out? To stay in contact with radio operators 24 hours a day is not within everyone's reach. It involves a considerable waste of time, if a joke. The Friendship had also solved Alberto and Ernesto de la Fuente's finances and had made monetary transactions, at least to purchase foodstuffs and fuel in Puerto Montt. Who was paying the bills?

I took advantage of my stay to check on some of these operations. It is evident that time flows differently for the residents of Chiloé than it does for Europeans: one gets the sensation that time has stood still and not progressed there.

Some fifteen years ago, the dictator Pinochet sold, in some cases, and gave away, in others, land in the southern part of the country to promote settlement. The austerity of the climate and the isolation (access is only possible by boat) brought the illusions and projects of many settlers to an end.

The homes in this region of Chilean Patagonia are basically made of wood and very humble. The majority of the streets are unpaved. Cold weather and poverty have made this people very withdrawn and they appear to be in no hurry at all--no hurry whatsoever, I would add. Attempts at finding data on the Mitilus II, The Friendship's supply ship, at the Puerto Montt Port Authority, finding information on lodging at the tourist bureau or purchasing some "simple" navigation charts for the 9th Region became ordeals before departing by boat. Even renting a car at Ancaud became a sideshow, and the fact is that sometimes, fate as everything planned out. Otherwise, how could one explained what happened later on?

Looking for De la Fuente

I pointed my Renault 19 toward the village of Quemchi, nearly 60 kilometers of lonely road shaded by gigantic trees in the light of massed clouds bathed in ochre light by the sunset. There, in this "supernatural" atmosphere, a native and his daughter made a sudden appearance. The high beams of my car caused them to stop.

"I'm looking for Ernesto de la Fuente," I said. "Do you know him?"

"Who's looking for him?" the native replied.

The question caught me off-base. I couldn't say I was a journalist, because this could cause the man to suspect my reasons..."I'm a friend from Spain." I managed to say.

"You left the road some three kilometers behind. It's the Taiquemo Homestead."

I turned the car around and looked for the promised entrance. In the meantime, darkness had fallen across the land. I found an open curve and my headlights fell on three people who were expecting the arrival of a bus inside a wooden shack. "Is this the entrance to Ernesto de la Fuente's homestead?"

"Who wants to know?" asked the older of the three.

My eyes fell upon the woodsman's powerful body and I replied what I had told the other man. "I'm a friend from Spain."

"Some friend." he noted sternly. "He hasn't lived here for eight years."

I have to admit that the man's response shattered a good part of my plans and dreams, but I didn't give up. "Could you at least point the way? Maybe the new owner can tell me his whereabouts..."

"Mister Castillo isn't around either..."

All these negatives seemed incredible, particularly during a trip in which everything had gone so well. Finally another one of the men, tall and lean, offered to guide me a certain distance. He got in the car--I now shiver at my boldness--and drove into a narrow rural road. Tree limbs scratched at the sides of my rented car while the tires plunged into the road's muddy puddles. About a kilometer into the drive, the woodsman asked to be let out.

"Keep going straight!" he said, leaning on the door. "Ernesto's house is big and black--you can't miss it!"

Was it not strange that the man should get out of the car right in the middle of the forest? Why did he do it at all, if he was in fact waiting for the bus back to Quemchi with his fellows?

The car's high beams continued piercing the night and a valuable recollection came to mind. Thanks to the assistance of Chilean newspaperwoman Patricia Ruiz de Viñaspre I had been able to learn that the "contactee" had gotten into debt with that farm some two years earlier. Then...the woodsman had lied when he said that it had been at least eight years since the man had lived there. Why the deception? Was he trying to ward me off?

The road widened and after a slight and muddy slope, I saw a glow in the distance. Was it Ernesto's house? I then stopped the car and the lights went out. I swallowed. This was not the best place to have a car battery die on me. Strange--the dashboard was still lit and the engine was running. Why had the headlights gone out? My hand leaned on the light switch and I passed the crossing. It worked! But my joy was ephemeral--the lights went out again, inexplicably, and without my foot ever touching the pedal, the engine began racing, one, two, three times...this was decidedly not normal.

Frightened, I looked around. Only the arrival of a flying saucer was needed to make this a case straight out of the abduction books. When the lights at the crossing changed again, I turned the car around and sped back the five kilometers that separated me from Quemchi. Tomorrow would be another day, and I would visit De la Fuente protected by the sun's light.

Monetary Transactions

"Fate" had some surprises in store, however. There are only two guesthouses in the fishing village, in other words, private homes which rent out their rooms if one has the right looks and the right amount of money. I still remember the looks that Mrs. Carmen Reyes gave me--dressed as I was in hiking boots and olive-green plants, with my perspired shirt and my spirit out of place due to the experience in the car, would I be able to get a room?

It was then that I noticed a rune hanging from a thin chain around her neck. "Do you like the occult?" I asked.

She liked the question and rented me a room. Curiously, fate had sent me there and led me to Carmen, who was the village schoolteacher and had known Ernesto de la Fuente.

"Yes, he was a tall, slender man," she recalled, "he even appeared on TV talking about those gringos who bought cattle."

Carmen gave me some valuable information that would assist me in locating some of the cattlemen the following day.

Before covering all the farms within a five kilometer radius on foot, I stopped at Quemchi's port for a moment. A number of boats were moored there, but none of them was the Mitilus II. In some location on this pier, De la Fuente would meet the mysterious members of The Friendship, and this was where they bought provisions and held forth on matters scientific and moral. It is important to note that these transactions were made both in cash and by check. This was how Rodrigo Fuenzalida learned that business matters were transacted by the Mind Science Foundation, an American firm! Was the United States somehow behind this complex plot? Their physical description, at least, was closer to that of Americans.

Emérico Bahamonde and his wife were two of the ranchers who recalled the enigmatic beings: "they were strangely dressed and had foreign accents." Mistrustfully, he told me that those tall, blond haired and blue-eyed men visited Ernesto's home. Was the entire plot therefore real? Jorge Anfruns has little trust for the entire affair, given that there is no visible responsible party. In the veteran ufologist's opinion, Ernesto de la Fuente's lacks sufficient solvency. "His credentials are at best confusing and he is tremendously fantasy-prone," he states. Fuenzalida, on the other hand, believes that "Ernesto is a very intelligent fellow" and at one point thought that a considerable part of the mystery was of his own making.

"Look," Fuenzalida admits, "I think that if [Friendship] was a mind control experiment, it would have been placed within the strictures of a study conducted by ultra-right wing eugenicists. These types have always been linked to mind control and paramilitary matters, and even linked to the U.S.."

In fact, the Chilean sociologists investigation managed to identify some of the men who hid themselves behind angelic names. "Michael"'s real name is supposedly "Andrea Nisbetti" and according to Fuenzalida, "entered the country using a passport made out to Antoni Issbeth...the passport's a phony document."

"So they're foreigners, then!"

"The information on Andrea Nisbeti," he adds, "was given to me by an engineer who was in contact with them. It turns out that there was a scientist by this name, a colleague of Werner Von Braun..."

"But he was German!" I exclaimed.

"Of course, at the time when the Russians and the Americans divided up the Nazi scientists, this one [Nisbeti] went along with the Americans, who later lost track of him."

Could Nazis have purchased an island in the Chonos Archipelago in which to develop their superior technology and "improvement of the species", concealing themselves as a religious sect?

As this article drew to a close, a letter was received at the newsroom which added some detail to the matter. According to our correspondent, who served five years in the Chilean Army at a radio station in Puerto Montt, the source of the Friendship affair can be found in an organization with ultra-rightist connections.

"We were sick of these devils, who often jammed our communications with immensely powerful high-tech distorting equipment, which on occasions even produced invisble barriers surronding all of the Taitao Peninsula and left all boats, including the Navy, bereft of communications."

Why should we believe what "Carlos T." had to say in his letter? Because he offered complementary information to what Raul Núñez and I already knew but was otherwise secret: such as the fact that a sailor, Luis Mata, had made countless trips on his cargo boat to the Taitao Peninsula, transporting CATTLE and being paid in gold. "Unfortunately," writes Carlos T., "he was a hopeless drunkard and talked too much about the "gringos", which led to his eventual disappearance and replacement by Alberto."

The equally mysterious Alberto had been stationed in Valparaíso as a ship captain prior to his recruitment by the Friendship. His present whereabouts are unknown. Equally unknown is the fate of a number of Israeli Mossad agents, who vanished without a trace in some canyons far from the tourist routes.

Nazis, a religious sect or true aliens -- the Friendship has once more entered into communication with ham radio operators, coinciding with the appearance of this report and opening a new field for research endeavors beyond the Chilean border.