Some, such as those who took part in the World ARC and a 3,000-mile passage (the longest on the industry’s wind deflection route) between the Galapagos Islands and the Marquesas Islands, were temporarily discovered refugees, with nowhere to go.
Many had to climb more miles to what had already been a long adventure and lacked water, fuel and supplies, and then left the next country. Others have been summarily expelled and, to date, are very likely to move at short notice or are now dangerously out of tune with seasonal winds.
In some countries, such as Saint Lucia, those arriving were quarantined and may not return. A month later, they were still not allowed to leave the 40s.
Others were crossing the Atlantic into Europe and, according to Sue Richards, who runs the Noonsite cruise page (an incredibly valuable resource for global cruises and a wealth of data exchanged on the crisis), some have to abandon the dream altogether. Those who have sold everything to move on board, or who finance themselves through the rent, are now located with no source of income and no higher costs, and perhaps stuck in a marina.
“There is also a lot of concern: getting stuck in a position where hurricane or cyclone season is looming, and where they can’t get to a safe harbor or take out the boat, or even pass the house during their stay. They were robberies,” Richards says. “Hurricane season begins on June 1 and other people want to get out of there.
“In collaboration with the Ocean Cruising Club, we have compiled a list of safe haven ports in the Atlantic, Mediterranean and northern Europe for ships to cross the Atlantic and be repatriated to Europe. Grenada, Trinidad and the British Virgin Islands are heading for answers for homeowners who wish to ship their boats for hurricane season “.
The article continues below …
Looking north from the Boardwalk of Cowes in April, you are the Solent as no one in the memory of man did …
Leaving the Galapagos Islands 3 weeks ago, the coronavirus is only beginning to succeed in Europe. The first villages …
The cruise and organizations such as Ocean Cruising Club, Seven Seas Cruising Association, Cruising Association, Cruising Club of America and Royal Cruising Club have teamed up, with Salty Dawg and World Cruising Club taking care of those crews at their events.
What will coronavirus mean for cruise ships in the coming years? With a greater sense of instability, some will certainly stay closer to home. This can replace the vision of living on board that provides greater freedom than on earth. There may be a special touch to organized events, where a ground team is tasked with solving and negotiating answers to any unpredictable problem.
But I hope many will try their luck and leave. There’s something to be afraid of. Global economies are changing, there would possibly be another geopolitical order, we can move on to how COVID-19 was a turning point, who knows? But, as they say, time is all we really have, and it’s over.
By Jennifer and Peter Bernard
“Whiskey Jack, Whiskey Jack, this is Uligan’s coast guard.” We’re on high alert. The coast guard calls the yacht anchored next to us.
“Coast Guard, this is Whiskey Jack. Moving forward.”
“Whisky Jack, this is Uligan’s coast guard. We recommend that you anchor and leave the Maldives and find the country to pass.”
There you go. The call we’ve been dreading for four weeks. With those 16 words, our worst fears are real.
Immediately, the WhatsApp organization we created with the 11 ships of our anchorage in March starts to ring.
“Have you heard that?”
“Did I hear what I thought I had done?”
“Does that mean all of us?”
Obviously, everyone’s listening. And we all know the implications: our world is about to change.
It’s May and we’re anchored on Uligan, the northernmost island in the Maldives. We left Sydney in July 2018 to embark on a five-year global tour and traveled through Southeast Asia to Indonesia, Malaysia, Thailand and Sri Lanka before arriving in the Maldives in early March.
Our plan for 2020 was to track weather systems across the Indian Ocean, travel south during the year and reach South Africa around October.
When we left Sri Lanka in early March, the news of the coronavirus was on everyone’s lips, however, the term COVID-19 had slightly entered the public consciousness and “social distance” was a word used through other people who disliked Facebook and Instagram.
We consulted with our agent in the Maldives, but they assured us that everything was fine and that we would be welcome. It was a six-day period that we didn’t have the Internet, so we were surprised how much the global stage had deteriorated when we arrived on March 12.
Two days after our arrival, the Maldives closed its borders and we were told it could be a week or two before our cruise permit was issued, while the government explained its technique to the emerging threat. At this point, 12 boats were waiting for us at the anchorage. Fifty days later, we were still there.
We had to take refuge in the existing anchorage and, first of all, we were not allowed to land in Uligan or anywhere else in the Maldives. After a few weeks, we had access to a small uninhabited island five miles from Uligan for exercise, which greatly increased morale.
We were allowed to stop on our yachts, we were able to swim and snorkel among lovely corals and get stops for turtles, dolphins and manta rays. These are glorious privileges, especially compared to some of our fellow cruisers locked up in other parts of the world.
Meanwhile, we were painfully aware that the dramatic has an effect on COVID-19 on almost every single one on the planet. We fed hungry for news every day and feared for our friends and the circle of family members who were on the front line: death or a serious illness; economic collapse; Loss of a non-public source of income Future instability and a major disruption of daily life.
And we feel guilty, as they wrote to us about the closure and its impact. “Talk about the best position to practice social estrangement,” they said. “I wish I could sit on a yacht, have cocktails while I watch the sunset, without the threat of contracting the virus.” But the fact was less romantic.
Like many bluewater cruises right now, our short- and medium-term tour is plagued by high levels of stress, anxiety and danger. We do not have a space to house, at least not in the traditional sense. We have limited food, fuel and water materials, there are no department stores in which to scale for refueling and we only have land to exercise.
We are subject to the vagaries of the weather, with storms, cyclones and worse and, with the arrival of the southwest monsoon, we may be waiting for our anchorage to become gradually less comfortable. With an average height of less than 3 m above the water, the Maldives are not exactly known for their safe anchorages to deal with storms. We are foreigners in a strange country and we know that the locals are fighting. On social media, we see that others are concerned that yacht crews will bring the house from the virus or consume their scarce resources.
At the root of each and every one of the things is a constant concern: how are we going to deal with it when (not if) our engine, desalination plant or any other critical formula breaks down and we don’t have access to spare portions or replacements? Above all, every day feeds on the idea of what happens if we are asked to leave, while the borders of all other countries are closed and defended through combat ships.
The Maldives government was useful in supplying basic food and diesel, so the plan was to stay away from the worst coronaviruses in Uligan and then resume our adventure when borders reopened. But after an era of stability and low infection rates, the virus began to spread rapidly through the Maldives, and this call from the coast guard is transparent evidence that the government needs us to move forward.
What are our options? We are following up with our agent, and he confirms that the government has asked all foreign yachts in the Maldives to prepare for the emergency exit if the scenario continues to deteriorate. Although there are two marinas further south, they are lately closed due to the virus; so far, the government has made the decision not to move our yacht there and return home.
Some cruise ships have chosen to return home, regardless of the length and lack of confidence of the trip, hoping to take credit for the country’s alleged willingness to go through to recharge them with fuel and supplies. If a “short jump” strategy like this can work if you’re in the Mediterranean and want to return to the UK, for example, it’s more complicated in the Indian Ocean because of the huge distances and seasonal weather hazards.
For us, navigating directly to our home in Australia would be very difficult. The direct direction of Christmas Island and Darwin extends for more than 4,000 miles as opposed to prevailing winds and currents. In fact, the Indian Ocean cruise consultant doesn’t even come with a direct address from the Maldives to Australia; Instead, the council is to pass the east coast of Africa, turn left into Cape Town, then sail east towards Fremantle and Sydney, turning on an 8,500-mile direct passage in some of the world’s most damaging waters.
If any of the characteristics are technically feasible, those are passages that you would voluntarily adopt. I think they pose a great threat to our shipment and its crew, especially since there would be nowhere to refuel or refuel along the way, and no rescue port in case of serious problems.
While we plan to be invited out of the Maldives shortly, our criteria for locating an option are:
Each country bordering the Indian Ocean does not pass check No. 2. Although Tanzania’s border remains open, its Prime Minister prefers to attack COVID-19 by using onions, garlic and prayer than social estrangement and closures. Unfortunately, this means for us that it fails in the check moment component. It’s also 1,700 miles, usually up close, with very limited yacht services of our size, making checks 1 and 3 more productive.
Between April and October, the southwest monsoon in the northern Indian Ocean means that the safest option for us is to sail to Malaysia or Thailand. Both countries have the amenities to buy yachts like ours, which means they can also pass check 3. Unfortunately, either they are stranded and have declared that, they refuel the yachts, will force them to remain in motion and will not be allowed to take refuge in the place.
Despite this, if we are officially asked to leave, our option now is to embark on the 1,800-mile transition from Uligan to Malaysia, knowing it will take 15-20 days at this time of year. Throughout the trip, we’ll have no idea what’s in store for us.
Disputed through the Malaysian navy, with guns pointed at us? Resupply and moved? And if so, where? And what intellectual state will we be in as we embark on the next passage, back without knowing what awaits us on the other side? On the other hand, if the Maldives allows us to stay here until our visa expires, it gives us time to verify and take the most productive resolution imaginable about the destination.
To answer these questions, we contacted our embassy in Malaysia and Sri Lanka. While they seek to be useful, they are simply not ready to deal with our little niche, so the initial recommendation does not apply to our situation. The consistent chorus is: move home.
“But what about the yacht, ” we ask? “We can’t let it sink, can we?”
“Oh, yes, you have to do it in the Maldives.”
“Yes, however, the Maldives warns us that we may be asked to leave shortly. So what?
“You’ll have to have a plan in position in case you can’t stay.”
“That’s why we touch you. Can you touch the Malaysian or Thai government about our situation?”
“No, their borders are closed and we defy their laws. That’s not our role here.”
And we go in circles.
When we started looking for our options, we imagined it was only a matter of waiting a few months, and then we could go back around the world. Now we’re not so sure.
So our resolution (if we give ourselves the luxury of doing it ourselves) is based on one question: will the general cruise resume later this year, early next or some time later? Obviously, we don’t have enough knowledge to answer that query with confidence right now. This will involve an assumption and a bet each and every time we have to choose, but the later we can take that resolution, the greater our knowledge.
Since the first publication of this article (June 11), Jennifer and Peter left the Maldives on July 11 and recently headed to the Seychelles. You can see their adventures in progress on their blog Sailing Steel Sapphire.
The August 2020 edition of Yachting World includes the effects of our ARC lacheck pattern survey and a full verification of hallberg-Rassy 40C, as well as our Hong Kong cruise