Video diary and crossing notes from our passage between Galapagos and the Marquesas

Video Diary of our 20 days across the Pacific

Finally the paint has dried.   Our twenty day crossing of the Pacific from the Galapgos to Nuku Hiva in 20 videos.   These will be published one day at a time over the next twenty days so you can fall asleep one day at a time.

If you want to read notes from our crossing scroll past the videos to the end of this post.

Day 1.  Leaving the Galapagos

Day 2 - After a night of no wind and no sleep

Day 3 - and it was cold

Day 4 - Time for Tea

Day 5 or 6 - We never were quite sure

Day 7 - Nearing the end of our first week, musing on how far we are from Shore

Day 9 - Skipping a day or I lost count, very wet

Later in the day, a glimpse of a night time watchkeeping

Today, focus on food and a cameo appearance by Clare

Day 12 and no wind

Day 13 - Moving faster and time for showers and a wash

Day 14 - Fishing comes good at last

Day 14 - Plotting our position

Day 15 - Vistors

Day 16 - Chafe

Day 17 - Cooking with Clare

Day 18 - Musing on Clocks going anti-clockwise

, Mr D and entry to French Polynesia

\day 19 - A night of squalls and wind going round in circles

Day 20 - Arrving in Nuku Hiva with Dolphins

Crossing Notes

Routing notes

Mon Jun 15 2020

Light winds, a few squalls and experimenting with the sail plan to keep us moving in the right 

direction explain the deviations from a direct route. We are now headed along approximately 

05 30S to 129 W hoping to stay in some west bound current for as long as possible. Wind and 

wave conditions described as discombobulating by those that know this sea area.

Halfway Milestones

Tue Jun 16 2020

Our route to Nuke Hiva shows a distance of 3073NM. At 20:00 UTC we “only” had 1536 miles to go even though we had only 

sailed 

5º 14.416s 113º 20.437w

Fickle Wind

Wed Jun 17 2020

We get excellent weather support from a meteorologist that goes by the name metbob. As he says “Weather is a mix of pattern and chaos”. THe expected nice South Easterly winds also forecast by NOAA in their GFS model clearly decided some chaos was in order and have swung around to the East. This means that after 12 hours of fun sailing we are back to rolling along slowly downwind grateful to be in a good current that keeps us moving.

Days seem to flash by. I don’t know whether it is just a sign of old age or having got into a routine, or maybe a defence mechanism against the disorientation of the continuous rolling that goes with downwind sailing in large swells. These days will be removed from our memory and replaced with views of the milky way that cannot be seen on land or of sculpted seas that only exist in the middle of large oceans.

Another time zone bites the dust

Thu Jun 18 2020

As we cross 120W change our clocks for the second time on this passage. The Marquesas are another -30 minutes.

We are now 8 hours behind UTC or GMT and 9 hours behind British Summer Time.

The winds continue to come from the East rather than the expected South East. Rolling along slowly but steadily.

Celebrated progress with freshly baked chocolate cake.

5º 29.971s 117º 23.131w

Fishy Tales

Fri Jun 19 2020

Fishing has not been a great success for us in the recent past. Sargaso weed in the Carribbean, our rudder and various body parts caught in the barbed hook being our only successes.

Then yesterday morning within minutes of putting the line out we had a strike only to lose the lure and whatever sizeable fish had taken it.

As dusk fell and we were preparing to eat dinner we saw a fish jumping in the distance. We might catch something I said before realising that the fish jumping and our line shaking rapidly were connected, this time securely.

It was a beautiful Dolphin fish (Mahi Mahi or Dorado) that had taken the lure, one that guaranteed it said to catch Dolphine fish. Guarantee delivered.

Catching a fish at sea is perhaps the easy part. Filleting a fish on a rolling deck where nothing stays still unless held down resulted in something that looked like a crime scene on the one hand and two beautiful sides of fish on the other.  Dinner came but an hour late, the fish restocking our freezer as it was just too late for dinner today.

5º 30.552s 119º 54.682w

Sailing Update

Fri Jun 19 2020

After a day of dither as the winds backed and veered we decided to try the mainsail. We are now wing on wing with the Genoa poled out into wind.

45 miles to the 1000 miles to go waypoint.

Into the last 1000

Sat Jun 20 2020

After two full weeks at sea we have just under we have entered the last 1000 miles with under 930 miles to run at the time of this post.

We plan to run another 300 miles in the current north of 6S and then turn direct for Nuku Hiva. Before that we have to navigate through another wind hole due to affect us as dusk falls but we have falling wind speeds already compared to last night.

5º 31.340s 123º 04.504w

Helicopter Vision

Sat Jun 20 2020

When you think you are in the middle of nowhere…and we are pretty close to that…the last thing you expect to hear is the thump thump of a helicopter. But that sound echoed through the cabin as I was dozing. Clare shouted helicopter and I woke from my dream to find that the sound only grew louder.

A little orange helicopter was hovering low in front of us. It came forwards and then along side. Two men waved at us. At first we thought they might be asking us to stop but that was crazy. I at least have clearly read too many thrillers. After a while they started smiling and flew off - their waving being more friendly than at first.

On AIS we could see one boat temporarily, though this vanished as fast as the helicopter. We think they were from a tuna fishing vessel or fleet. The registration was HC-COL.

And then there was silence again. The wind has dropped and backed towards the East again and we are back rolling slowly along wondering whether it was real or have we started hallucinating like sailors of old.

Sailing on a knife edge

Mon Jun 22 2020

645 miles to go. We could arrive Friday evening or Saturday morning. We are now on a near direct track to Nuku Hiva. If you have ever watched the Americas Cup boats they are always sailing into wind, sailing close hauled (sails pulled in close to the centre line) even when sailing downwind. The exact opposite of watching a sailing boat sailing with both sails pushed out as far as possible, often on different sides.

Whilst we only potter along in comparison we can still pull off the same trick, in a limited way.With the wind even a little behind the beam going forwards initialy reduces the windspeed and so you can’t sail anywhere near as fast as the wind as there is no wind left to push you along if you are going with the wind.

But if by going fast the wind we feel (apparent wind) can be made to seem like it is coming from forwards of the beam then the wind speed increases as we go faster. We can set the sails for upwind sailing and edge even faster as the increased wind speed pulls us forwards.It’s a virtuous circle that allows the Americas cup boats to sail into wind while sailing downwind many times the wind speed.

On a good day if the wind is not too far behind our beam we can do the same and achieve sailing speeds close to the wind speed. But the virtuous circle can become a vicious circle if the wind drops a little, the sails flap and the wind moves behind us and we slow right down.

Robbie the hydrovane will, though, turn us so that the wind angle is correct but then we will turn off track, turning back as we speed up again if the wind speed increases again.

As a result our course wanders as the wind gusts and our speed varies significantly if we are close to the point where this is possible. Falling off the edge leaves everything flapping and us going nowhere.

A reduction in wind speed of even a knot or so can leave us either off course or sailing slowly. It is then time to get out the planning software to see which is the best option. Overnight we had to take the slow speeds. Today we have pushed the wind forwards and are making good speed again. It’s a lot more comfortable too.

5º 43.415s 125º 49.427w

Chafe and Loose Screws

Tue Jun 23 2020

We have under 450 miles to run now. A significant distance that now seems quite short, Perspective is a curious thing.They say you only need two things to repair a boat. Wd40 to free up things that are stuck but should move and Gaffer tape to stop things moving that should not.On my daily round of the boat yesterday I found the Genoa sheet had become worn through to the inner core, the strong part of the rope. Chafe can happen anywhere it seems and is the real enemy of long distance sailing. In this case we were lucky to find it before the line’s strength was compromised. This was easily fixed but a timely reminder to keep focus on sailing as we near our destination.

The day before I had found a bolt on the “car” that slides up the mast to dock the Genoa pole had come loose. Not a little loose but sticking out loose. Somehow vibration had turned this bolt through at least three full revolutions even though it was quite stiff to turn Another simple fix except for the need for a special tool to tighten the 5 star headed bolt. Boat parts are never standard.

Fortunately we have slowly accumulated more tools than WD40 and Gaffer tape. Liberal application of loctite blue should prevent it coming free again.

Cleared into French Polynesia

Wed Jun 24 2020

We are now 265 miles from Nuku Hiva. We might just make it there in daylight on Friday, Arriving in the dark is possible but best avoided We are cleared into French Polynesia just in time for us to meet the mandatory 48 reporting requirement.

We will have to quarantine for 7 or 14 days on arrival.We will not be cleared by immigration until we get to Tahiti but we believe that we can travel freely within French Polynesia before that.

Once cleared in we will have until October to decide whether to stay or go on to New Zealand if they open their borders.

Luckily we are still treated as EU citizens and can apply for permission to stay for a year of we need to. That doesn’t solve the small problem of cyclones in French Polynesia but at ldon’t have to leave on December 31st if the rest of the Pacific remains closed.

6º 42.378s 132º 20.106w

102 miles to go but we are not sailing

Thu Jun 25 2020

110 miles to go. We are back on a direct track to Nuku Hiva hoping to arrive around 1800 local time which is 9.5 hours behind British Summer Time. Weather has caught up with us as a wide squall line is passing through the area. The wind is going in any and all directions seemingly all at once making sailing in any given direction quite impossible. Just as I write this we are get a high ptessure wash from above.

Our desire to arrive has overcome our reluctanxe to use the engine.Nearing any destination attention turns to the more detailed charts, other traffic (none seen yet), in this case an island to be avoided as it is inconveniently situated on our direct track.

The main focus though inevitably becomes “When are we going to get there”. For three weeks this has not mattered but as the distance drops so arriving becomes the driving force. It’s not like another night at sea would be a bad thing but when the alternative is a full night’s sleep preceded by a gin and tonic and or a glass of wine the pressure becomes too great to resist.

Time to put the ice trays in the freezer and the cans of beer back in the fridge.

7º 30.302s 135º 52.803w

Arrived but not yet half way

Fri Jun 26 2020

We arrived Nuku Hiva at 15.30 local time after a fast downwind sail.

Not yet half way to New Zealand! We pass that milestone when we arrive in Tahiti but much exploring to do before that.

Gin and Tonic time…

8º 25.240s 138º 18.268w

Emerging from hibernation

Mon Jun 29 2020

We are slowly emerging from hibernation, the best way to recover from sleep deprivation. Tomorrow we hope to make progress towards ending quarantine but there will no doubt be a backlog of paperwork to process after the long weekend. This bank holiday bead in celebration of semi-independence from France,

We have started cleaning the house barnacles from the waterline and the green slime that has grown all the way up the sides of the hull. On previous passages speed through the water has kept everything clean but the Pacific is so rich in nutrients that growth is inevitable.

Quarantine Over

Tue Jun 30 2020

Our quarantine ended with a brief radio message to say we were free to go ashore and welcome to French Polynesia. 

We are not immigrated into FP but are free to go where we like on land and by sea for the first time since early March when we were locked down in the Galapagos. It is strange after so long being locked down and then at sea to be stepping into a normal world where the kids are playing basketball or volleyball or just swimming in the sea and adults mingle freely. No facemasks. No 2 metre rules.

A quick trip to the stores revealed that the shelves were bare. The supply ship is due tomorrow then for a few days the shelves will be full again. Buy it when you see it for tomorrow it will be gone or so we have been told. One should add if you can afford it as prices are eye watering.

8º 54.989s 140º 06.032w

Decision Made

We are now on our way to French Polynesia.We can be tracked on the "where are we now" section of our blog or directly on this link.

https://forecast.predictwind.com/tracking/display/Tintamarre

The decision, when it needed to be made, was easy.  There was no safe Eastbound option.   We could not even get permission to leave here for Salinas in Ecuador and Panama started to do mad things like tell cruisers to leave immediately (having not allowed them to leave) and fine them for not renewing visas, even though the offices were closed so renewal was impossible.  The electrical storms that are a daily occurrence at this time of year provided a further good reason to go west.  We now have to take our chances with French Polynesia and whatever lies beyond. We will though, be reunited with many of our friends after at least 21 days at sea, 14 days quarantine and however long it takes to catch up with them;- that's assuming all goes well with the check-in process when we arrive.

We will miss the Galapagos having had as good a time in lockdown as one could reasonably expect in a worldwide pandemic.  In the last week or so we have had the bonus of being able to see some of the Santa Cruz Island as the lockdown has been partially lifted and the Island declared COVID 19 free.

I had my first cappuccino since February, and somehow we just had to have a burger because we could.

What will we remember? The Iguanas might be special, the sharks plentiful and unusual, and the giant tortoises are astonishing; but it is the Sea Lions that we will miss the most.  They are cheeky and playful and somehow they always make you smile.

Here are a few photo reminders of our last few weeks in the Galapagos.

 

Standing at the top of a beautiful ski run. You have spent all day preparing for this descent but the lifts are closing and the fog is rolling in, the slopes are too dangerous to ski on.  The only way back to the Gondola involves trudging uphill and a nasty rope lift that will shred your gloves.

All around you, people are setting off but as you wait you notice a few more cautious skiers are turning back.  It is possible if all goes well to get to the bottom but though enticing at the top the slope is marked as closed.  There are no rescue services and your insurance would be invalid.   What will you do?

We are sitting at anchor in lockdown in a beautiful place, all ready to set off, everything was prepared for the passage across the Pacific, until without warning, everything closed around us seven weeks ago.

From our anchorage in Puerto Ayora, Santa Cruz we can show you pictures of the exotic bird and marine life that equal any that we have seen from elsewhere. The availability of sun-ripened local tomatoes and passion fruit may sound enticing but the reality is, that like everybody else that we know in the world we are locked down, restricted in our movements, aching to socialize, to get out into the local countryside, to come and go at will, to have some certainty in our lives, to swim further than three metres from the boat.

Pictures of French Polynesia look enticing and draw us on.  News that they are relaxing their restrictions makes this seem even more attractive.  We believe Australia and New Zealand will allow yachts in even if this is not yet certain.   Maybe the restrictions will lift as fast as mountain fog and inter-island travel will suddenly become possible.  We can still wait here no matter how enticing it looks.  Our decision timetable dictates that westward travel across the Pacific means departure by Mid June but this is too late to enjoy the Pacific. It is just the latest we could leave here and have time to reprovision and do some maintenance in Tahiti.  We now think Mid May is the latest we could go West and enjoy the Pacific.  If it is not open by then we will have to look the other way.

Turning Back - Are We Crazy?

Turning back isn’t the first option that comes to mind.  It is bad enough going back to collect some missing items that you need for a weekend away when you have just turned onto the Motorway and have to drive a further ten miles before you can turn back at the next exit.  From here it is a 600 or 1000 mile decision and a delay of nearly a year before setting off again.   The stock of food we have will go out of date, the maintenance we have done will have to be repeated.

We have set off already, we are ready to go but if we carry on across the Pacific and cannot stop in the islands we are trading a "short" sail of 600 miles to Ecuador or 1000 miles to Panama for one of 7500 to New Zealand.   We might miss out on some good island hopping this year if things open up and we set off by the end of May but then we might miss out on the Pacific completely if they don’t open up.  If we go back we can always explore Ecuador if or when that opens up and the Pacific will be there next year or the year after if we have to wait that long.  Perhaps it is not so crazy, turning around now we don’t lose our chance to see the Pacific, we only delay it.

There are downsides though to going East. Panama has some of the worst lightning storms, every day between now and December.  Ecuador has to open for us to leave the boat there.   COVID 19 is rampant in both countries and flights have not opened up.  The journey home will not be simple, even when flights start operating.  On the other hand, we don’t have to rush home on the first possible flight and if we can reach the marina in Ecuador it is in an isolated community. Like French Polynesia, the Governments in Ecuador and Panama have started to publish timetables for relaxing the lockdown, including the resumption of international flights, even if the conditions are very different.  Heading West we escape the virus, going East will be difficult every step of the way, including when we finally arrive home.

Today our decision is to wait with a focus on returning to Ecuador and backup of going West if it really opens up in the coming weeks. But this plan is written in the sand of a beach below the high water mark and things are changing fast.  Tomorrow there will be another tide and we will be forced to review our decision, with new information and a new perspective. One thing is certain. If, like the skier on the slope, we travel further west then it is too late to turn back.  This is the most compelling reason to stay for now and to look East when we are able to move on. For once down that first steep slope, there is no way back.

Decision Update - When do we go? Where do we go?

Timeline to a decision

Our timeline to a decision has not changed but the passage of time brings new options and closes others.

End of April – our official clearance to remain expires.  With no formal extensions granted to yachts, no one has been asked to leave either.   We still hope we will be able to remain here until the end of May and maybe the end of June.  

Mid-June - If we were to go west mid-June would be a good time to leave especially if we can provision safely in Tahiti but French Polynesia is looking less and less like a good place to stop and there are no open ports beyond that.  So far there is optimistic talk of New Zealand opening following lobbying to allow this, but as of today its only talk.  The borders are closed, so are the Australian borders.  Mexico is stopping movements, it is in the hurricane belt and out of reach unless we could motor for up to 1000 miles, which we cannot.

Mid-June technically we can go East to Ecuador, except that that is closed too, even to internal traffic.  We might be able to reach Panama too though that is partially closed.   We are hoping we will be allowed to do this, additional risks of travelling to Ecuador include the severity of the Covid 19 outbreak there and the financial stability of the Government.  Flights home seem unlikely any time soon.

End of July – the last chance to sail safely across the Pacific.  We do not want to arrive in New Zealand or Australia in their winter either so timing will be critical.   If we stay later to go East and this is not possible then we will have to hope we can stay for a year, unable to move out of here from late September onwards because of the Cyclone season.  The boat will need significant maintenance for a safe Pacific crossing, and that is not possible here.

What are we hoping, a safe passage to Ecuador in late May or June.  Perhaps the second best is a safe way to leave the boat here, a great option if we can find a way.  The final fall back is sailing with an approved stop in French Polynesia, otherwise direct to Australia or New Zealand arriving at the end of October.

Galapagos in Lockdown

Here in the Galapagos despite the lockdown and early curfew we have been treated exceptionally well by the community and the authorities. I am sure this is the case in many other locations where yachts are stranded in self-isolation. The question we may all be asking is how to give something back to the community. For us, the choice became easy, when news of a radio fundraising marathon reached us.

With the help of our agent, we were able to enlist the support of the deputy mayor, who prepared a special appeal in English so that we could understand a little better what the community needs were.  

It is easy to forget when surrounded by such beauty that the local community is devasted by the shutdown.  Over 80% of their revenue comes from tourism, the majority of the rest are Government funded jobs.   It is reported that about 3000 Government workers have not yet received their monthly salaries as the Government is prioritising health care.   In addition, there are some very poor communities, already dependent on food handouts.

With the help of the deputy mayor and a clear fundraising target, a near term deadline, a tiny bit of organisation and use of the local WhatsApp group we have been able to raise $1200 from the few boats that are currently maintaining self-isolation in the Galapagos. 

The deputy mayor in Santa Cruz and a deputy in San Chrisobal came directly to each boat to accept the donations and thank us personally. For me, their self-evident gratitude has made this a day to remember.

Meanwhile in this special place life goes on as unusual as always, the relationship between humans and wildlife is as unique as the wildlife is rare.   

Fish Market

Fish market

We are lucky and privileged to have ended up in self-isolation here. 

What a difference a day makes or When are we going to get there?

Sunday March 15th, we were normal tourists in the Galapagos.  We had taken a boat trip to Los Tunnelles to swim with sharks and sea turtles.  A brief look at life the day before lockdown:

Flamingo

Doing his duty at the breeding centre - lots of grunting.

Taking Over the Dock Now the Tourists Have Gone

Young and Mature Blue Footed Boobies

The most Northerly Penguins in the World

At Anchor in Isabella before the Lcokdown

Monday morning (March 16th) and our life was still progressing normally, the UK seemed to be taking a cautious approach to the introduction of social distancing measures and we were far from the worldwide outbreaks.  Normal that is, if living on a boat in the Galapagos could ever be described as normal.  We, along with the few people that arrived on sailing boats are the only people to arrive by sea, everyone else is dependent on the frequent flights to and from Ecuador.  Frequent until they stopped without notice that Monday leaving 2500 tourists stranded.  Most have now been airlifted out to Quito - where many will still be waiting for onward flights.

We were doing boat jobs after two days of tours around Isabella.  Mid-morning, we were told we had to move to Santa Cruz as Isabella was closing.  Later the same morning, we were told there was a lockdown in force, though it turned out that it didn’t start until Tuesday.  Tuesday did not seem abnormal to us as we motored the 45 miles to Santa Cruz to find the bay full of cruise ships that had been told to disembark passengers immediately so that they could catch the last flights out.   We had imagined that tourists would finish their holidays before returning home, we even thought the lockdown was in anticipation of problems not the discovery of cases of Covid 19 on the islands.

Acceptance of the new conditions comes slowly, the two-metre rule goes from an unknown concept to normal practice.  Things that one thought were impossible just a few days ago become the new normal.

First exposure to the two-metre rule

It took a few days for the extent of the lockdown and seriousness of the situation to sink in, and each day for the first week one or two small freedoms were removed.   The slow steps seem necessary if the human mind is to keep up with the changes.   We are now under increasingly strict curfew, starting at 14.00 and ending at 0500.  Police appear in white suits to enforce the measures.

It was not until March 24th that we discovered that there had been four cases of Covid 19 on the islands.  Although we knew of cases that had left the island we hoped the early lockdown would have left us free of further community spread.  Now we are holding out for these to be the only cases.  The authorities have been very good at protecting us by making it clear that all the cases were among permanent residents and were linked to travel to the mainland.  In other Pacific Islands tourists are taking the blame for transmission so we are very fortunate.

We are 13 days into the lockdown. In that time the UK has gone from normal life to recommended social distancing, to complete lockdown. Unlike most countries, off-licenses in the UK are open whereas here alcohol sales seem to have been banned from yesterday, (except in the smart supermarket at the dock that doesn’t yet seem to have got the message, thankfully). Like the measures taken in many other countries, some of the measures seem targeted at enjoyment, not just social distancing.  There is a huge beach here that is out of bounds.  We are forbidden to use our kayak.  We hear of people in the UK being told off for buying charcoal as if having a barbeque in one’s own garden should be a sin and I am not convinced that driving is so dangerous that it is not worth allowing people greater freedom to choose where to walk.  I feel for city dwellers told off for leaving town but facing park closures. We watch with interest how the Swedish will manage under less severe restrictions, and watch the USA with horror.   As a side note, we learned today that Ecuador has more ventilators than the USA.

Shopping Covid 19 Fashion Wear - Mandatory face masks after a week without requiring them

Now we are adjusting to the likelihood of two weeks becoming four and when the next two weeks are over, I suspect it will be extended to six, eight and then twelve weeks.  Like going on holiday or life, the second half always goes much faster.  Even this second week of lockdown has progressed much faster than the first.   I am reminded of painful swimming lessons, no matter how many lengths you had to swim it always felt better when you were past half-way.   Maybe this is how we will get through it, when we are told it will be twenty-eight days, we will already be halfway and on the home stretch, though deep down it is hard to believe that there will be any return to normality before the end of the year..

It takes longer to appreciate the world situation than one’s own, though it helps if you are already locked down.  Those that are on passage to French Polynesia, our original next port, will be living normal lives. They planned to be in isolation for up to 30 days even if all went well but they are leading their normal lives and though it seems harsh to say, we can tell from their email messages that the world they re-surface to will cause real shock and anxiety.

On a personal level, Clare’s mother had a minor stroke.  In normal times we would have tried to return home at least for a short visit. For now,  Whatsapp and Skype phone calls have had to suffice. Clare is greatly relieved that her elder sister, Jill, was able to reach Cornwall and provide fantastic support at home, which seems to be helping achieve a good recovery in the last week.

Life on a boat in Isolation

A boat is a small place to be locked down, but we do at least have a big backyard. If only we could use more than 3 metres from the perimeter of the boat and that kayak. Our closest neighbours are a family of four with two small children and additionally their grandparents on board, a total of six, it helps us to appreciate the space we have.

We have good, even excellent food supplies.  Fresh food is locally grown and good quality and being the Galapagos 100% organic. The bakeries are excellent.  Fresh fish is available in the fish market and local meat is both good and inexpensive.   A shopping trip last week was a bit of a scrum away from the smart supermarket at the dock. We think local people are beginning to tire of the lockdown.  Young lads were messing around loading their dinghies with supplies for the crew on the boats at anchor around us.  No face masks, no gloves, whilst we queued 2 metres apart waiting to enter the supermarket.  Up the road the other shops were a little chaotic, full of food and too many people.  Today the police are out in force, enforcement gets harder and the measures taken will grow tougher.  Life won’t get better soon but there is a chance that the virus can be beaten in a small island community like this.

We are also well served by the local mobile operator, providing reasonable internet connectivity and the ability to call home and stay in contact with friends. Using Zoom and other applications reduces the sense of isolation.   This has allowed us to run quiz nights using WhatsApp with the other boats in the anchorage, so far a traditional quiz night and Countdown.  Movies take us away from it all and remind us of life before Coronavirus.  Dish, the story of the Australian Space Telescope that enabled the first TV pictures to be seen live from the moon landings when the moon was particularly poignant, reminding us of Man’s greatest technological achievement and what can be achieved so quickly when people work together and take risks.  Aside from the huge and obvious risks of going to the moon, in a small way the team running the Satellite Dish also took risks with their lives and equipment on that day, it should not have operated in winds above 30 miles an hour, it was gusting up to 60 miles an hour on the day).  Risk-taking, whether it is accelerating vaccine testing, people working with the very ill or others serving in supermarkets or keeping power systems and transport networks going is what will get us collectively out of this pandemic.

We are self-sufficient in power and water.  We have enough solar energy to allow us to use an electric kettle and even cook electric, though we prefer our gas cooker.  The gas cooker, just two burners, and a tiny oven cost $1500, the electric ring cost $9.99 so cooking on gas had better be better.

Our water maker fills the tanks each day in less than an hour and uses so little power that the batteries keep charging even when it is running.  We have even had to disconnect some of our solar panels to stop cycling the batteries to full every day.  The sun is overhead now at noon as we have just passed the equinox and we are less than half a degree south of the equator, the rainy season seems to have ended early so we have blue skies every day. 

We can only hope these systems keep working as it is impossible to fly in any spares we don’t already have on board and having to carry water to the boat would be a significant issue.

The Galapagos still brings many pleasures.  For the last few evenings, the new moon and Venus have provided an awesome backdrop to the town at night.  

New Moon hanging over Santa Cruz

We had eight young blacktip sharks swimming around the boat, all trying to make a Pelican drop its fish as it recovered itself back to flight after diving in from high above us.  There are not many sea lions here but one comes to say hello most days.  It took up residence on our transom while we were watching a movie.  Flocks of small birds follow shoals of minnows, almost walking on water as they pick them out – the minnows trying to escape larger fish that have herded them to the surface, Pelicans eying the larger fish for their dinner and there are boobies occasionally flying overhead.   Sealife in the Galapagos is awesome.

Where are we going next?

Nowhere, not soon anyway.  The Pacific is closed.  Central and South America and the USA are either closed or out of reach. (edit 17/04:  With a review of expected winds and currents in June/July and August we think Ecuador is a very doable sail and Panama might be reached too).  The currents, winds and looming hurricane season in the Northern Hemisphere make going backwards seemingly impossible.  Our insurer has said “no” to any insurance on the west coast of the USA or Mexico.   We will continue to review this option but we suspect that there will be too much uncertainty to take the risk of going East before it is too late.  Australia is partially open to us we think but New Zealand would be a better destination, even though it is closed now.  It's just 7500 miles if we have to sail it non-stop.  We can provision for that long at sea if we have to but it is not what we are planning, yet. 

We can’t stay here indefinitely as the boat will need maintenance that cannot be performed without a haul-out.  We will investigate even that but even if it were technically possible it seems unlikely it would be allowed, but then everything that is happening around us seemed impossible even a week ago.

Timeline to a decision?

End of April – our official clearance to remain expires.  We hope and believe it will be extended to the end of May and maybe through June.  This is the last chance to head east before the Hurricane season.  The lack of assured entry to any country, Coronavirus, and a realistic passage plan probably elude us.

Mid-June would be a good time to leave especially if we can provision safely in Tahiti.  Safely means being allowed to stop and not being at any material risk of catching the virus before we depart. (edit 17/04 - also good for Ecuador and possibly Panama).

End of June – probably the latest we can stay in the Galapagos but who knows what the authorities will decide by then. 

End of July – the last chance to sail safely across the Pacific without stopping.  We do not want to arrive in New Zealand or Australia in their winter either so timing will be critical.   

We hope that by November things will be easing around the world.  In the meantime, we are hoping the Galapagos becomes virus free and healthcare developments in the rest of the world allow normal life to resume again.  When are we going to get there, after many false summits and half-way seems a distant memory.  Be positive, enjoy a look back..

Lock down....Where Do We Go Now?

On February 4th as we drove to Heathrow to start the next leg of our adventures on Tintamarre we listened to some news items on the repatriation of Brits evacuated from Wuhan Province, China. -  and  had our first introduction to coronavirus and isolation.  Although we muttered darkly to each other how global air travel would surely lead to this beast spreading worldwide we could not have guessed that just six weeks later we would be on lockdown in the Galapagos.

The last week has brought a mind-blowing change to our lives. (and yes, we know also in the lives of all our friends all over the world). Last weekend we took two wonderful trips from our anchorage on Isabella Island, and swam with sharks and turtles, watched the blue-footed boobies, 

and walked through beautiful lava fields.

Then, as we settled into boat jobs on Monday we received instruction to leave Isabella immediately and sail to the main island of Santa Cruz. We understand that there has been a case of coronavirus (a tourist, who has now left) and there may be an elderly gentleman who is also ill.  Later we were told everything would be shut from Tuesday and all inter-island travel would be banned, though we had to break this particular embargo to comply with the first instruction.

The islands have been emptied of tourists. A small number who failed to get on flights remain - they form a hopeful queue at the travel agents. Lockdown is taken very seriously here.

A curfew is in place from 4pm to 5am. Only food and drug stores are open. All other businesses are closed. Many wear face masks. Social distancing is totally respected. Hand sanitizer is used liberally. We are expected to only go ashore for essential supplies. At the moment there does not appear to be any shortages, but one must queue and sanitise to enter the store.  Other stores are less strict but there is great fear amongst the local population and everything is done at least at arm's length.

The anchorage is something of a carpark, filled with idle tour boats. However, as Tintamarre bobs gently behind the reef we can watch turtles, sharks and an aquarium of fish.  There are just six cruising yachts left here. We all face the same dilemma. What next? 

Our situation is this: Our visa (autografo) expires on 25th April. If we are not invited to stay beyond this date we have nowhere to go. We had prepared in every way to sail 3,000 miles to French Polynesia, and then onwards from there. But French Polynesia has, as a small island nation, with limited food,  fuel and health resources, not surprisingly closed its borders to new arrivals and imposed a regime which no-one would choose. (We have heard that the island supply vessels have been barred from leaving port for the next 30 days). We would likely be forced to abandon Tintamarre to a dodgy anchorage without insurance in a cyclone zone or be forced to sail another 3,500 miles to New Zealand in adverse weather conditions.  Except that we believe New Zealand is closed to non-residents.  We can cross the Pacific from around Mid May but we don't want to arrive in the storms associated with winter in New Zealand.  Perhaps Australia is a better option but their borders are also closed.

There are frequent updates, each one spawns a surge of misinformation on socal media. But generally the restrictions get tighter with the passage of time.   We worry for our friends who are at sea heading towards Hiva Oa, the first landfall in French Polynesia,.

If you look at your world map and think we should sail for the South American coast be aware that it is not possible to sail against strong currents and winds. And in any case most borders are closed. Mexico is currently an option, but it would take at least 2 weeks to reach there, and in that time frame there is no guarantee that its borders will remain open. We have read of sailing vessels reaching their destination and being turned away - a nightmare scenario.  The general advice is to stay put.

Despite all the uncertainty, we are grateful to be in a good anchorage where the authorities appear to be helpful. We have the company of a handful of other cruising yachts who face the same dilemmas. We are not allowed to socialize on board but we speak to each other by kayaking between boats. We have a virtual quiz night planned, and we have a lively WhatsApp group chat. The island looks beautiful. If we are lucky we may even get the chance to explore. For now, we enjoy watching the turtles and frigate birds from our deck. We do not need much from the island community here. We are self-sufficient in power and water, and we have at least 3 months worth of provisions on board, which we can supplement with locally grown vegetables and fresh bread from the shore.

When we feel down about our position we only have to remind ourselves how much worse it is for others.   How bad can it be to be stranded in the Galapagos? No one seems to know what the exit strategy is but we take comfort from the rapid improvement in China, where computers are seen going about business normally and the rate of new cases has slowed to a trickle.