When the Covid-19 Pandemic struck the impacts on people around the globe were immediate and significant. Economies ground to a crawl, people died by the hundreds, global travel stopped overnight with borders closing and countries imposing restrictions on internal movement. Cruising sailors were not immune to the impacts. To this day borders throughout the Pacific Islands remain closed to travel, a situation that has led to some in the sailing community crying wolf about a looming “humanitarian disaster”.

The so-called crisis that has been identified is the inability of yachts in French Polynesia to flee the cyclone zone and find weather refuge in New Zealand or Australia.

Sunken refugee boats in the Mediterranean; a real humanitarian crisis

Now, I know that the very idea of the plight of world sailors reaching the level of a humanitarian crisis is hard to wrap your head around so let us take a look at everything that is wrong with this argument.

French Polyneisan Anchorage - February 2020

The risk of being hit by a significant storm in French Polynesia is, in reality, low. The islands are known by cruisers to have a much lower risk of cyclone activity than other parts of the South Pacific, so much so that each year increasing numbers of cruisers apply for long-sta

y visas to allow them to remain beyond the typical 3 months and hundreds of vessels spend each cyclone season in the Marquesas, Tuamotus, and Society Islands. While remaining in the Tuamotus and Societies carries a somewhat greater risk, the Marquesan Islands are generally accepted to be free of risk from cyclones in all but the strongest El Nino years. See Livia Gilstrap's excellent article on the risks of cyclones in Ocean Navigator.

Image: NOAA Climate Prediction Center

In addition to the normally low risk of cyclones, NOAA's Climate Prediction Center has said that the 2020/21 cyclone season has a 60% chance of being a La Nina year, due to ocean temperatures that are cooler than normal. This suggests that storms will be less frequent and less severe. In an article for the Blue Water Cruising Association - Panache and the South Pacific Cyclone Season - Price Powell crunched the numbers and of the 20 cyclones that even came close to French Polynesia in the last 48 years only 2 occurred in La Nina years.

While much is said of the risk of cyclones in French Polynesia, New Zealand is not necessarily the safe haven one might assume. Yes, it is technically not a tropical location so not subject to tropical storms like cyclones, but strangely enough cyclones don't know where the borders to their zones are and sometimes extend themselves into post-tropical storms. In fact, using the same data from the Australian Bureau of Meteorology as Price accessed, we can see that in the last 48 years a total of 18 storms tracked within 300km of Auckland just 2 fewer than approached Tahiti.

Image: Australian Bureau of Meteorology

The plight of sailors on their boats in the South Pacific does not approach the level of humanitarian crisis, and any increased risk from remaining in French Polynesia is not significant enough to claim that life or limb is at risk.

Consider that as I write this, over 27 million people have contracted Covid-19 and nearly 900,000 have died. The Brookings Institute conservatively estimates that the number of people in the world living on less than $1.90 a day will increase by 50 million, and 2020 will mark the first year of this decade that the global number of people living in poverty has increased. In July, Oxfam estimated that over 12,000 people could die daily because of starvation caused by Covid-19 related economic disruption. The disease and its very real, very significant impact on the least fortunate in the world is the true disaster, and we would do well to remember it and respect the measures put in place to limit its spread and impact.

So much for a clean wake

Clean Wake: A concept amongst cruising sailors that stresses the impact that individual behaviour has on the group.  Bad actions will reflect upon those who follow and potentially poison perceptions for generations.

Photo Credit: Damien Privé, SV Manwë
Maple at Anchor - Bocas Del Toro

20 years ago, being an unemployed recent graduate searching for a purpose, I read a book that changed my life.  Jon Krakauer’s “Into Thin Air” is the story of a man’s battle with Mount Everest during the deadliest year the mountain has seen.  It is a story of adventure, loss, and overcoming challenges.  After reading it, it inspired me to find an epic adventure of my own, something that challenged me and opened me up to a life lived to its fullest.  And so, I read other adventure memoirs landing solidly amongst the published works of circumnavigating sailors like Lyn & Larry Pardey and Liza Copeland.  Their books opened up a world of far off South Pacific Islands where visitors were rare and local customs still prevailed.  Their ethos was to embrace the differences between us all and adapt to their surroundings.  Their sensitivity was such that they never failed to remind their reader that sailors, as visitors, must respect local customs and law even when it seems strange and always leave a clean wake.
 
Fast forward 20 years.  By the time we embarked upon Maple and our world cruise, the number of sailboats traversing the globe had grown into the tens of thousands.  What had been a small community of voyagers seeking a simple life different from that which they could find at home had become an annual migration of sailors transplanting their western lifestyle to their floating homes. 

A growing community of sailors has also led to an increase in the numbers of those who apparently feel that rules do not apply to them.  Across the globe we have met sailors who think nothing of failing to clear into a country, anchoring where there are restrictions, picking fruit from trees that don’t appear to belong to anyone, going ashore on private land or leaving recycling/garbage in the wrong areas.

In the time of Covid-19 and increased restrictions on activities and movement, the flaunting of rules has become even more clear.  As we sit in French Polynesia, waiting for borders to open I see daily Facebook posts from misinformed, entitled, or deliberately obtuse sailors that offend the concept of leaving a clean wake.  Comments like “we’re the only tourists they have, they should be grateful…” and “it is the law of the sea, they need to provide safe anchorage for sailors…”  and “we know the borders are closed, but we heard that a boat was checked in so we’re leaving today bound for French Polynesia…”  It seems as though the levels of entitlement and lack of respect for local laws are reaching an all-time high and its little wonder that locals in nations along the traditional cruising route are tired of hosting us and unwelcoming.
But then I am reminded that for every self-absorbed soul who sets sail - even though 95% of national borders are closed and the island nations they are bound for are the least well equipped to deal with a pandemic – there are dozens of kind souls who remember the concept of leaving a clean wake and implore the selfish among us to stay put, wait for borders to open and respect local restrictions.

As a world traveler, there are some things that have become increasingly clear to me in the last 5 years.  Technology is making the world smaller, people are more alike than they are different, most of us are good, considerate and decent, but above all, those of us who travel are visitors in the lands we venture to, and as visitors are tolerated and even welcomed, but we simply must respect the local customs and rules or those who follow will bear the consequences.  Covid-19 has shown that borders can be closed easily.  If we want them to be open to us as travelers, we need to demonstrate we are worthy of their hospitality.

An Uncertain Future

Sun sets on locked down French Polynesia.

On March 16 the government of French Polynesia first announced they were stopping travel between islands.  When the news broke, we had been bouncing about between the nearly 100 islands of the various island groups for nearly 10 months.  Anchored in the beautiful lagoon surrounding Raiatea and Tahaa, we were making our plans to head further west to Tonga, Fiji, and Vanuatu once the cyclone season wound down in April.  All those plans ended as nations around the globe rapidly began closing both internal and external borders, canceling flights, and implementing various levels of domestic confinement or "social distancing" to avoid being overwhelmed by the rapidly spreading COVID-19 virus.

By March 21, French Polynesia ordered all citizens and visiting nationals into full confinement.  All non-essential stores were shuttered, schools closed, gatherings of people forbidden and individuals required to carry ID and special “Attestation” forms declaring which of 5 approved reasons they had for being out in public.  In addition, cruisers were told they must remain in their anchorages for the period of the confinement, and all marine activity, including swimming, was forbidden.

On March 27 the government announced a curfew between 8:00PM and 5:00AM which was expected to remain in place for the duration of confinement.

All of this has been repeated ad nauseam in nations around the globe, and cruisers in every port from the Mediterranean to Panama, New Zealand to Malaysia and the Maldives to South Africa face the same general restrictions and daunting future.

 
Cruising sailors are no strangers to danger or uncertainty.  Those of us who travel with our homes and most of our worldly possessions must navigate weather, long ocean passages, and language barriers at the best of times.  What now face us are very few open borders, distrust and fear of foreigners and limited prospects for further travel and discovery.  Just 6 weeks ago, most nations of the globe were accessible and welcoming to sailors.  Now, stories of cruisers refused entry at ports, forced to continue sailing or leave their home and fly back to any country which they have passports for are abundant.

For many of us on the ocean, home is an impossible distance away.  Faced with waiting for borders to open again (a decidedly uncertain prospect) or a passage that could span 1/2 the globe in a single leap the future for many of us is murky at best.

For our family on Maple, the situation is similarly uncertain.  Our choices right now seem deceptively simple, but on further consideration become much more complicated.

1. We can remain in French Polynesia and wait to see if borders re-open.  We are in French Polynesia on a long-stay visa.  Our visas expire May 20 and we had planned to be underway for Tonga long before they ran out.  We have applied for an extension to our visas which were granted and we could conceivably continue to extend for another 2 years, giving us lots of time to see if/when the Pacific will open up,
2. We can set sail west using a route that takes advantage of countries that still have borders open to voyaging sailors.  This was the plan up until late March. Unfortunately, as of today only American Samoa and Papua New Guinea are allowing entry for sailboats.  American Samoa is a great option but is only 700 miles further west, still within the cyclone zone, and only offers a 3-month visa meaning we'd have to be looking for the next welcoming nation to continue our march West by July or so and I just don't know if anywhere else will be open by then.
3. We can leave Maple in French Polynesia and try to get a flight home.  This is not an option.  Maple is our home, we have no other and I cannot imagine leaving her in French Polynesia for an undetermined amount of time.  It could be 12-18 months before borders re-open, possibly longer, and by the time we can return to Maple we may not have a bank account that will support further sailing.
4. We can sail back to the west coast of Canada.  This option is intriguing.  We can manage the trip one of two ways.  The first would see us head North to Hawaii, then onward to Vancouver.  This passage is certainly do-able, depending on seasons and is only 5000 miles total.  Many cruising sailors follow this route to return to the USA or visit Alaska.  Typically yachts will sail to Hawaii in April/May and on to Vancouver in July.  The second option is to work our way West, possibly via American Samoa, and then North to Japan.  This could involve a stop in the Marshall Islands and/or Micronesia (if they open their borders) and may include a stop in Guam (currently open to boaters).  This is a more challenging route, covering nearly 7000 miles to Japan and then another 4300 to Vancouver, a total of over 11000 miles.  It will also mean avoiding typhoon season in Japan and Cyclone season in the South Pacific while bouncing between countries that don't want or need visitors.  Typically yachts will sail North to the equator before November and plan to head to Japan after March.  Sailing to Vancouver is best accomplished in June/July.

As Janet posted the other day, we are leaning heavily towards option 4.  Sailing back to Canada seems the best choice in these uncertain times.  There is simply no way of knowing how long travel restrictions will last, and even if commercial travel starts again soon yacht travel may be far behind.  In a future where vaccines are required, quarantines likely and foreigners suspect we can't help but feel that the comfortable embrace of our home and native land will be a welcome change.  It will also allow us to refresh our bank accounts and reconnect with old friends.  Bringing Maple along gives the added bonus of a floating home and escape pod for when the travel itch hits us again.

Is this the end or simply a new beginning?

Croatia, 2015, giving Maple her name.

Last night when kissing Iris goodnight, I noticed she was cuddling her alpaca stuffy.  I couldn’t stop myself from grinning. To think that a year and a half ago we were traipsing around the beauty of Peru. What an amazing life you have led, baby girl. You have lived full time on a sailboat for half of your life, in that time exploring 32 different countries in 6 continents.  What a gift these 5 years have been for our family.  My heart brims with so much happiness with being able to pull off this lifestyle for as long as we have. 

We had some exciting plans this year.  We were going to add 5 more countries to our tally. But the world as we know it has stopped. Our good fortune has left us spending this time of great uncertainty here in the stunning jewel of the South Pacific. We have our health, we have financial security for the time being and we have a roof over our heads.  We have nothing but gratitude for what opportunities we have had in our lives. If we need to stop this lifestyle today, we have no regrets with the choices that have brought us here. 

We have been doing much talking and planning, as challenging as that is at a time like this.  We knew that we could not maintain this lifestyle forever, the bank account balance is dwindling. Our plan had always been when that time came, we would sell Maple and use the proceeds from the boat to settle ourselves somewhere to be determined to replenish the bank account. The reality is that time is approaching. 

We are not ready to end this journey.  We really wanted to explore Asia with the girls.  Unfortunately in this current climate, this is highly improbable. So what now?  Sell the boat?  Wait another year in French Polynesia to see if borders reopen?  With our current finances we will only pull off two more years if we are lucky. 

Hmmm...

....after 30 days of confinement we had a mind-blowing revelation...

....after years of saying we would NEVER sail to Canada, perhaps we could introduce Maple to her home port after all?!

Sure it is costly to import Maple and we need to reacquaint ourselves with winters (sob!). But by keeping Maple, we have a home that is already paid for so it means we could actually afford to live on the south coast again, enabling us to be close to family.  It also would allow us to feel we can easily adopt this nomadic lifestyle again as we understand the pull of the ocean is strong.

Even though the saying is “plans are written in the sand at low tide”, we are fairly certain this is the direction we are going to head. Sail to Canada, return to the only province the four of us have ever called home. What is unknown is the route we will take to sail there.  We hope as the months pass we will be able to form a plan on how many miles, countries and time it will take to sail Maple to her home port.  We have more questions than answers at this stage, but we have a goal that excites all of us!  

I hope this finds everyone safe and healthy during this time and we will post more as plans firm up.  

Perfection

So we just had to wait until night #5 for the perfect sail. Last night was a fabulous sail with more wind than was forecasted at a perfect angle for Maple to just fly. We turned more south to come past Ahe and Rangiroa in the Tuamotus and we thought it would be a slow sail but instead we were able to bomb along at an average of 6 knots, it was fabulous. Today the wind has slowed and we managed to finally break out the spinnaker. I don't believe we have used the spinnaker once since entering the Pacific or if we have it was once for a very brief spell. Needless to say we were very rusty in getting it hauled up. Many false starts with wrapped lines, lines on the wrong side of the stanchions and even managed to initially haul the spinnaker up on the wrong side of the head sail. Let's just say there were some tense moments between captain and first mate. Here's hoping bringing it back down is less exciting. We have already accumulated enough stories of how-not-to-douse-a-spinnaker, I am not interested in adding to that library.

It has been a very chill day with the sun still shining. I believe we have managed around 36 hours of no rain. On the SSB radio net last night, someone who is currently anchored in Tahiti managed to collect 600L of water with all the squalls that hit them there. So now I feel vindicated that I can in fact substantiate my sailing story of all the squalls rivaling our tropical storm in Grenada as we only collected a mere 500L of water during that storm. It was not so easy for us to collect the rain this time around while underway so we only managed to add 100L of water during the squalls on this passage, but not too shabby I say.

We are on track for a morning arrival on the 4th. Unfortunately tonight is forecasted to be very calm so likely we will be motoring as we are opting to not fly the spinnaker at night given some recent history with squalls and a torn sail. We don't much feel like adding more sail repair to our to-do list.

The sun is shining

What a difference a day makes!! The ocean wasn't trying to kill us, the boat didn't break and the bugs were not invading. Darryl's shift until midnight was unbelievably wet, but the squalls have left us alone since then. It was blessedly calm and beautiful all day today. We had a wonderful day of sailing in glorious sunshine and decent winds all day. We are trying to be cautiously optimistic that night #5 will be gentle and dry.

Tonight we will start wending our way through some of the atolls of the Tuamotus so will need to be more vigilant with our watches as up until now we have been out here all alone with no obstacles. Goal is to arrive in Tahiti by February 4th so just 3 more sleeps hopefully.