What’s Missing?
I woke this morning with the reflection of bright sun
bouncing off my face, a light breeze tickling my nose. I could hear the sound
of tiny wavelets lapping the hull. Even before I opened my eyes, I began
planning my day. Leisurely cup of tea while David awoke, then breakfast in the
cockpit, a trip across the bay to the fishmarket, a half hour walk back along
the waterfront park so I could be picked up at the landing close to the boat. A
few boat chores are on my list, planned so I stay out of David’s way while he does
some deck maintenance and adds some paint. In the afternoon I plan on a phone
chat or two, maybe some writing or editing. Not much different from a hundred
or maybe even a thousand other normal cruising days. But…Covid-19,
self-isolation. Even before I climb out of the bunk I am reminded these are not
normal times. My cellphone has a message waiting from a friend in New Zealand,
“sorry, can’t send on your mail. In full lock down here. Can’t go to the post
office, no stamps.”
We are currently at anchor in Sydney Harbour, slowly making
our way toward the Great Barrier Reef. Over the past three weeks, as we voyaged
from Melbourne the restrictions put in place have increased here in New South
Wales, but are far less restrictive than across the ditch in New Zealand.
People who can work from home must do so. On the other hand, if safe-distancing
rules can be put in place most businesses, other than retail clothing, gyms and
sporting venues, can be open. Café’s and restaurants can offer drinks and meals
but the customer must go off the premises to eat. All entertainment venues are
closed. Marinas are closed except for existing customers but fuel docks are
open. On shore, everyone is urged to stay at home, on their own property other
than for exercise. But exercise here includes walking, biking, going sailing,
kayaking, surfing, in groups of two only. National parks and many popular
beaches have been closed, but city parks and reserves are open, and a constant
parade of walkers, bikers and dogs enliven the shoreside track that passes just
100meters from where we lay at anchor.
The reality for us, we can sail anywhere we wish in New
South Wales and take advantage of the various anchorages throughout Sydney Harbor
where dinghy landings are available at no charge. The harbor is amazingly quiet
as ferry traffic is down by 90%. Nice, but strange compared to the Sydney I
experienced last year. We have been able to purchase the new sail Sahula
needed. In fact, the Sydney Sails team was delighted to have something to do.
As soon as we arrived in port, they were alongside in their well-fendered
runabout to take measurements for the light weight, high cut 150% genoa, a sail
Larry and I always called a nylon drifter. The sail will arrive tomorrow,
bright blue, fluorescent green and gold. Light winds are forecast so I hope we
can test it on a sail past the Sydney Opera house bound for the Pittwater. No
problem getting an electrician to update the electrical system as we needed new
house batteries. Kale, from Master Marine Electrics is on board putting the
final new wiring in as I type this.
I have lots to do to keep myself busy – a book I am trying
to write, another I am updating.
So why do I feel like I am missing something, something more
than the museums, films, live entertainment that makes being in a city special.
After careful thought I realize it is something much more basic and personal that
has me feeling out of sorts. I really miss inviting folks on board, feeding
them snacks and meals and relaxing together for what sometimes turns out to be
all afternoon. But we cannot invite anyone on board, nor can we join them
onshore for a barbeque, a dinner at their home. What makes it more difficult
is, David has family living within a long walk of where we lay at anchor. So do
many friends from his university days. I have friends here too. And then there
are the interesting folks on the dozen other boats that are anchored nearby –
we chat to each other from our dinghies (legal if we stay at least 7 feet
apart.) We can walk with some of our friends and family on shore as long as we
do so in pairs. So we have had a few pleasant catch ups by changing partners
every 15 minutes or so and keeping well separated. But since the rule says you
must be exercising, I feel guilty if I want to stop and sit instead of walking
onward.
But I keep reminding myself how fortunate we are compared to
others whose sailing plans have been interrupted by Covid-19. I read of reports
of friends stuck in the Bahamas, not allowed ashore for any reason at all,
others who had left their boats to take care of family business and can no
longer return to the only real home they have. We are where we always planned
to be. Not only are we able to enjoy our boat, get provisions and water with
little problem other than some shortages in the supermarkets, but we can
actually voyage onward in Australian waters as long as we abide by the local
rules when we land.
Queensland, where we are headed, is Sahula’s home so,
though travel between New South Wales and Queensland is prohibited at this time
except for returning residents, we can legally cross the state border to
continue our voyage northward. And in September, when it is time to head back
to my New Zealand home, we can sail there too as I am a citizen and David has
residency. We will have to go through a 14-day quarantine period which means
being confined on board on a police mooring. But because New Zealand is very
aware that many citizens are voyaging sailors, they have agreed that time spent
at sea will be considered part of that quarantine period. I doubt we can make
the passage from Australia to New Zealand in less than ten days so that would
mean only a few days of restrictions.
From friends calls and letters and from the response I
received to a photo post I put on Instagram yesterday, (#pardeylin) I am well aware of
how fortunate I am to be weathering the storm of Covid-19 here in Australia.
The measures put into effect by the state governments seem to be paying off. I
know the world of offshore sailing, the plans many sailors have, will be
changed by the restrictions nations will put in place to protect their
vulnerable societies. Hopefully these changes won’t be long lasting and I will
see some of you sail in to anchor, then come ashore to share drinks (person to
person accompanied by the hugs I miss so much) soon after we sail back to North
Cove on Kawau Island.
