We had arrived in Marigot Bay, St Martin on the 13th of March, planning to stay a few days. Our itinerary was to continue northwest through the Virgin Islands, Puerto Rico, Bahamas and then on to Florida to see family and make our way up the Intracoastal Waterway to Deltaville, Virginia where we would put Songster on the hard and on the market and return to Australia at the end of the northern summer. Then the Covid Pandemic hit and the world shut down. There was no place we could sail to. The islands had closed their borders. The US was not issuing visas. We could not go forwards or backwards. We were in Lockdown like the rest of the world.
On the 17th of March, France closed its borders. People were confined to their homes/boats except to get food and medicine. There was some confusion as to whether people could get exercise and if so, what kinds of exercise were allowed and where one was allowed go to get that exercise.
Many products and services on the island are offered by only the French or Dutch sides of the island. This is no problem when borders are fluid. Many people live in one side of the island and work in the other. The authorities did try to accommodate this by allowing those providing essential services special permits to cross the borders. But there was quite a bit of uncertainty. Each morning on the VHF cruisers radio net there was much debate about what was and was not allowed. Over the 2½ months of lockdown, a new normal was established.
A special form had to be filled out for each foray ashore. Ship’s papers and passports had to be carried with you. Chandlers were open in the morning. Masks had to be worn and customers stood at the door of the shops to request what they wanted and staff would bring it to them. Grocery stores were open from 8 am to 6 pm. Masks had to be worn and only a limited number of people were allowed in the store at one time. Hand sanitizer was at every doorway. Gradually people were allowed to exercise on the beach and swim around their boats but one could not lie around and sun bake on the beach – go there, keep a social distance, exercise (walk or swim) and then leave.
Sometimes we were greeted by the local wildlife.
We got into a routine of going ashore every 4 - 6 days, mainly for bread and ice. We usually went to the small mini-mart inside the lagoon where there was a dinghy dock just a few steps from the front door of the shop. About every 10 days we would go to the SuperU, a large supermarket about a 15 minute walk through deserted streets and past closed shops. Although officially we could have gone ashore for one hour per day for essential shopping or exercise, it was usually too depressing to see everything closed up and we preferred to stay on the boat. We read, listened to music, swam, did some small boat chores. I played the violin, wrote and followed the course of the pandemic. The VHF radio net organised virtual trivia nights, women’s lunches and pub music nights – all enjoyed in isolation on our own boats. If we wanted some company at sundowner time there was always Pedro the Parrot and Basil the Rat.
Pedro and Basil joining us for sundowners
We had some other animal company on our daily swim around the boat. A small reef was developing on the hull of our boat and we had acquired a lovely collection of 'pet' fish. The highlight of my swim around the boat was to watch the fish. The colony started out with about half a dozen Sergeant Majors and Blue and Yellow Tangs about the size of a thumb nail. Over the weeks I watched them grow to about 10cm long and many other animals move in to join the little ecosystem of Songster – Blennies, Jacks, crabs – while the growth on the hull grew thicker and thicker.
Corallimorph perhaps?
Bob spent hours every day contacting cruising organisations, such as the Cruising Association in the UK, the Ocean Cruising Club and Caribbean based yachting associations such as MAYAG, Marine and Yachting Association of Grenada. He also contacted the press and various embassies, consulates and honorary consulates to let them know of the plight of stranded yachties. We made plans A through D for possible options to get out of the hurricane zone. These destinations ranged from USA, Grenada, Trinidad, Curcacao, and Panama. Plans were constantly being modified and reprioritized depending on the latest rumour for port openings. Everywhere on shore where reminders of the threat hurricanes poised to this part of the world. St Martin was still rebuilding after the last big hurricane in 2017. As the weeks passed, anxiety levels increased.
By mid-May we started seeing some signs for hope. The Guardian ran an article on stranded cruisers, https://www.theguardian.com/environment/2020/may/12/long-journey-home-the-stranded-sailboats-in-a-race-to-beat-the-hurricanes?CMP=Share_AndroidApp_Email and MAYAG had submitted a detailed proposal to the Grenadian government which was well received.
Finally on the 17th of May we received confirmation from the hard working MAYAG group that we could arrive in Grenada in the 3-5 June arrival window. Grenada was offering sanctuary to and receiving over 800 yachts and over 1700 sailors. The conditions were that when we arrived we would be given a health check and then have to abide by a strict 14 day quarantine on our boat. There would be no shore leave at all. At the end of the 14 day quarantine we would get a Covid test and if all clear will be allowed to move to our designated marina/anchorage and to go ashore, abiding by the social distancing and limited opening restrictions for the island. We spent the next weeks provisioning, getting the hull cleaned, filling the diesel and water tanks and making sure all systems still worked.
A clean hull and the fish were still with us, but a bit hungrier
Finally it was time to leave for our 380nm, three day, three night non-stop passage to Grenada from St Martin. We buddy sailed with an Australian family on Cirrus (Mum, Dad, Grandma and three children under 6 – Whenever we were down about our situation we thought how much harder it was for this family). As we were taking the Rhumb Line course, we would be out of VHF and AIS radio range of the islands. A SSB (short wave) radio net was set up for all those boats travelling to Grenada over the coming weeks to keep track of all the sailors.
Grenada or Bust!
It was a rocky-rolly passage. We had to beat into the wind most of the way and the seas were rough. We were bashing into 3 metre waves for the majority of the time. The waves were crashing over the deck and into the cockpit . Neither of us got much sleep over the three nights. At one point Bob was trying to get some sleep in the aft cabin and had opened the hatch for some air. The rear deck usually does not get any water from the waves. But a huge rogue wave came right onto the aft deck, pouring gallons of water onto the bed, settee and Bob. It was quite a rude awakening for Bob and the cabin was soaked.
For land-lubbers to get an idea of how much we were rolling refer
the photo at sea below. Hold the horizon horizontal and you can see how
much we were leaning, rocking and rolling back and forth with each wave.
Now try to imagine using the bathroom or cooking a meal with a boat moving like
that.
Sunset at sea
We arrived in Grenada on the morning of June 4. As instructed, we contacted the marina at the main harbour of St George's and then went along side at the quarantine dock. There was a nice medical technician waiting for us to tick us off the list. He took our temperature and sorted out a small amount of paperwork. The main paperwork had already been submitted when we got our ticket to come to Grenada. Everything was well organised and went smoothly. We then went out into the quarantine anchorage with all the other boats. So we are now taking it easy, sitting out the quarantine and watching the sky and our bruises change colour.
Thank you MAYAG and Grenada for offering us this safe haven. We are indebted to your hospitality, generosity and professionalism. We are so looking forward to exploring this beautiful island.
Our first of many spectacular sunsets in quarantine
