There’s some good news for cruisers heading to the Bahamas this season—the Bahamian government has removed the requirement for inter-island COVID testing.

While vaccinated travelers are still required to apply for a Bahamian Health Travel Visa before arriving in the islands, they are no longer required to take COVID tests while traveling through the islands. Previously, cruisers were required to take COVID tests every five days as they moved through the islands.

The Ministry of Tourism confirmed Tuesday fully vaccinated cruisers with proof of vaccination are still required to produce a negative COVID test, administered no more than five days before travel. The guidelines listed on the Bahama government website clearly state all travelers must upload their negative COVID test to their Bahamas Health Travel Visa application, regardless of vaccination status.

Several sailors Cruising World contacted, however, reported encountering differing requirements upon their arrival. In general, proof of vaccination and a valid Bahamas Health Travel Visa were sufficient during their visits, and they were not required to provide a negative test, or take a COVID test upon arrival. But to be safe, always check updates on the official sites before departing for the islands.

Cruisers should have proof of vaccination prior to arrival. Cruisers without proof of vaccination need to apply for a Bahamian Health Travel Visa before arriving in the islands, and upload a negative COVID test (Rapid Antigen Test or PCR are accepted), to the Health Travel Visa application.

While the negative test must be dated within five days prior to arrival in the islands, the Bahamian government has clarified a few exceptions to address these concerns: Crews traveling to the Bahamas can arrive in the country outside of the required 5-day window provided they can demonstrate that they made the voyage directly to the port of entry in the Bahamas without an intervening port.

Basil Smith, the executive director of the Association of Bahamas Marinas, said the guidelines and protocols for entering the Bahamas on a private vessel are continually updated on the association’s website, and he noted that travel restrictions and requirements can change rapidly. He suggests anyone who plans to travel to the Bahamas check all updates at bahamasmarinas.com/procedures-and-protocols.

Another well maintained source for information is Noonsite. It is frequently updated with information from fellow cruisers as well as in-country officials and other sources.

“When we went in May to West End, Grand Bahama, we arrived by private vessel,” said sailor Monica Jennings. “We uploaded our proof of vaccination to the portal (the Bahama Health Travel Visa portal). Jennings highly recommends printing out a paper copy of your travel visa prior to arrival, in order to avoid complications upon arrival. She witnessed several visitors encounter serious complications when they were unable to provide a paper copy.

Cruisers can apply for a Bahamas Health Travel Visa at travel.gov.bs (click on the International Tab unless you are a Bahamian citizen). For questions, email healthvisa@bahamas.com.

The post Bahamas Inter-Island Restrictions Eased appeared first on Cruising World.

Family News

We got to see Niall! Our crew converged at my father’s home on Bainbridge Island for a few precious days. Then Niall was off to Alaska to finish work with UnCruise Adventures. It’s a boat kids dream job. In a few days, he’ll be flying to Germany for a (senior year of college!) fall semester program.

Our family reunion is a card tournament. Or is the card tournament a family reunion? Every July, save last year, we meet in Bellingham to play vicious games of Chicago Rummy. Cash is involved. So are margaritas!

The event was fun as always, but too short, and left me sad that we didn’t have more time with extended family. Not complaining though, because it sure beat the heck out of not seeing them. And my father now has his name inscribed on one of the perpetual trophies! Alas, it is the Turkey prize for last place. But many inscribed here are later on the perpetual winner’s trophy.

We played many rounds of cards (sense a theme?) at my dad’s kitchen table. There was time to catch up with old friends, the kind where you can pick up again without skipping a beat. And I got to see my mother smile, even when I didn’t hear my name.

Bonus visits touched every sense with the glorious Pacific Northwest summer: the looks and smells and tastes. My aunties in the San Juan islands welcomed us with Dungeness crab fresh from their traps. Paddling near their home, inhaling the briny low tide, I felt nostalgic for our years here. Jamie reminds me I like warm climates. It was strange wearing trousers.

On the way north, we routed via cousins in Salt Lake City, and cruising friends in Idaho.

The road back was via my Aunt & Uncle (and more cousins) in Bend. I am grateful for the time and the hugs and the reconnecting. It’s hard to get enough. Uncle Niall – yes, Niall’s namesake – is 98, and served in D-Day. If I make it to 96, I hope I’m as sharp as my Auntie Mum.

Most of the trip back to Mexico was in smog from wildfires. Reaching Las Vegas, we could finally see more than a short distance – buildings on the Strip fading near sunset.

Near Term Plans

Work continues on Totem. Priming complete: We’ll look to move to the Cabrales paint shed for final painting once Jamie’s awesome swim step project on the transom is done. And so, we slide back into shipyard life. Yesterday, that involved bringing the yard’s security dog, Bonita, to the vet for a checkup.

Annapolis! In October, we are booked for the Annapolis Boat Show: It’s on! Jamie and I plan to teach in Cruisers University. All Cruisers U participants must be vaccinated and remain masked on site. I’m looking forward to it, although social distancing will pain me as a natural hugger! The show is a great time to see friends, old and new, and we love the TRU crew meetup.

Cruising Plans

Cruising plans are fuzzier. Is it possible to make cruising plans given all the uncertainty? It is. When I scroll through Noonsite’s awesome mega-list of country status, most now say open. Yes–Open! On their curated list for cruisers, 44 are currently closed, but 109 are open. Here’s another way to put it in perspective: in the 48 countries encompassing our circumnavigation, only eight are currently closed.

Future gazing is dangerous lately, but here’s a view for setting out in North America currently.

Caribbean Cruising This Winter

Juggling a changeable series of restrictions and entry fees/testing requirements takes some planning. But mostly, the Caribbean is open, even holdouts like BVIs. But even this past year, friends had a great season in the western Caribbean. A number of our TRU crew had a blast in the eastern Caribbean islands. They just moved less, or sucked up the cost of moving.

The simplest way this plays out, for those with restriction/regulation fatigue? Fewer clearances and longer stays, which is what seems to organically occur to most cruisers anyway. And for those that need to be on the move, then maybe skewing plans towards countries where a single entry means more coastline/islands/bays to explore, like St Vincent & Grenadines assuages the wanderlust while mitigating the hassles and expense.

South Pacific Sailing In 2022

Among all popular world cruising grounds, the South Pacific is the only one which remains overwhelmingly shut. Thanks to Delta, it seems just as unlikely to re-open now as it did in January: small, vulnerable countries have no incentive to tempt variants. Only Fiji is open. Fiji, where COVID cases are higher than ever.

In the current situation, there are no easy options after Fiji. How much will this change in the next year?

Don’t boats arrive in French Polynesia? A few; not many. French Poly has remained officially closed for sea arrivals since March 2020. At times, DPAM (maritime authority) has accepted applications to allow transit arrivals. Since February 3, 2021, applicants must demonstrate an imperative need, a “motif imperieux,” to be approved.

This imperative need is fulfilled in three ways: 1) overriding personal or family reasons; 2) an emergency health reason; 3) a professional reason which cannot be postponed.

It’s a high bar, and one which touring cruisers overwhelmingly don’t meet. Unfortunately, “Experiencing the annual marbled grouper spawning in Fakarava” or “Taking surfing lessons on a perfect Society Islands wave” will not be interpreted as professional reasons which cannot be postponed, much as I wish them to be. Hopefully the bar lowers!

When Caribbean boats chatter about planning to go, I wonder if planning actually means spit balling over Kaliks in the cockpit vs. actually doing the work of researching the route. Unfortunately, it also means some straight-up intentions to deceive, such as a fake emergency “forcing” arrival. You can guess what I think about those folks.

I’m grieving the probable loss of our South Pac plans. Jamie and I have time, and could go next year or five years from now! But at ages 19 and 17, we feel the clock ticking with Mairen and Siobhan aboard.

While we hope things will change for the better in the South Pac, but we’re pragmatists, so are looking more at where we can go than where we can’t. I still daydream about big passages to Hawaii, Guam, and then the Western Pacific and Asia. Who knows what will happen!

Dreamscape routes

Hawaii/Guam are open to us now… and with hopes for a southern route to follow. But another Plan B is exploring more of Central America. We’d need to get cracking on shipyard projects for that seasonal timing to work in ‘22, though! We’re not interested in spending lightning season in Costa Rica or Panama. Maybe El Salvador?

And if all this means I get more family hugs in?

#Winning!

Grateful to love and be loved by these wonderful humans: the hardest part of the trip was wanting more time with them.

Should Cruising Plans Be Postponed?

Heck no! The qualities that make cruising a fulfilling way of life haven’t changed. We can have amazing experiences, meet interesting people, try delicious new food, and build great memories – even if it’s not our Plan A (or even Plan B) route. Even if it means fewer border crossings due to cost/hassle.

There are always reasons not to go cruising: to postpone it a year here, a few years there. People who probably weren’t ever going to go anyway can latch onto the pandemic for the current excuse.

Still wondering. Check out the Salty Dawg Cruising Association’s Cruising in the Time of COVID webinar on Sept. 22. I’m hopeful they will have useful information to guide individual decisions.

The post Sailing Totem: Uncertain Cruising Plans appeared first on Cruising World.

As a liveaboard child in the 1950s, I didn’t get ashore often, so I clearly remember the first time I played musical chairs. It was a strange game, but almost everything the dirt dwellers did struck me as strange back then.

For one thing, we didn’t have stand-alone chairs aboard our 52-foot schooner, just places to sit on deck, in the galley, or around the cockpit. But ashore they had these individual chairs, and when the music stopped, you fought for a seat or you lost. I didn’t like the game. It was exclusionary. Somebody always lost. The game eventually turned all but one of us into a loser.

In March 2020, the music stopped globally for us international circumnavigators. Around the globe, each vessel and its crew had to unexpectedly fight for a chair in an anchorage, if you will. And with out a doubt, some spots were far more preferable than others.

Aboard our ketch, Ganesh, my wife, Carolyn, and I, for instance, lucked out because we had planned on being in Singapore in late 2019 to visit our daughter, Roma Orion, and grandkids Sokù Orion and Tessa Maria.

I always say, “I’d rather be lucky than smart,” primarily because I have such little hope of the latter. Nonetheless, we truly were fortunate. At the time when the music stopped and the cruising curtain fell, we were exactly in the right place at the right time: in COVID-free Singapore, with a mooring and a multiyear visa that allowed us full shore privileges.

Not all globe-trotting cruisers were so lucky.

Take Peter and Ginger Niemann as an example. They circumnavigated from 2006 to 2010 aboard a 47-foot “slutter-rigged” boat (a sloop/cutter they’d converted from a schooner) named Marcy. Then they left Seattle again for circle No. 2 on Irene, a stout 52-foot fiberglass C-Flex ketch, in 2016.

Not wanting to follow their former westabout route, they instead banged a right and transited the Northwest Passage west to east. This is a notoriously rough trip, and they experienced hurricane-force winds in exposed anchorages numerous times. And the timing was tricky. The ice-free window was brief between Canada (to starboard) and the ice pack (to port).

Three-quarters of the way along their passage, they almost turned back at the choke point of Bellot Strait, on the edge of the ice pack, where there was a real danger of either being crushed by or entrapped in the frozen brine. But they persevered and eventually made it through without assistance by laboriously hopscotching through the bergs amid the thickening slush—occasionally almost within touching distance of polar bears.

At the time, theirs was only the 30th American vessel (there have been 267 vessels in total) to transit the Northwest passage, according to the local record keepers.

Then, just to make matters even more challenging, the remnants of tropical hurricanes Irma and Maria forced them to Greenland before heading down to the States. When they finally arrived in chilly Maine, they thought they were in the balmy tropics!

Next stop was the Med. But by early 2020, they were under COVID-19 quarantine in Turkey, though eventually they were allowed to clear out, bound for Batam, Indonesia. Officials there assured them repeatedly that they’d be welcome. Two months and a few thousand miles later, however, when they actually arrived at the Nongsa Marina, Batam officials had changed their minds and allowed them only to briefly reprovision.

Nearby Singapore was their only reasonable port of refuge. But while S’pore would allow them and their vessel to clear in, they would not be able to go ashore because of the pandemic.

They had no choice but to roll with the punches.

As I wrote this, Ginger told me, with a twinkle in her bemused eye, “Gee, Fatty, I really didn’t think this second circumnavigation would involve a 235-day stretch of never being allowed ashore in any country!”

Their hope is to sail home to Seattle via Japan sometime in 2021.

And then there’s the growing family aboard Adamastor.

Decades ago, an artist named James Mostyn was skipping around South America, as artists (and descendants of the Duke of Wellington) tend to do. One drunken night, he hooked up with a bunch of sea gypsies partying on a beach in Central America and unexpectedly fell in love with the cruising community, us included.

An architect by trade, James returned to Jolly Ole England to earn some freedom chips. It took him a number of years to find his dream vessel, the 42-foot Bermudian sloop Adamastor, built in South Africa in 1990.

Hooking up with Jess Lloyd, a fellow artist with a delightfully bubbly personality, they left London for a “two-year cruise nine years ago,” as Jess explains it.

Now, as strong as their combined knowledge of design and art might have been, biology and reproduction weren’t their strong points. Or perhaps they were. Regardless, their oldest daughter is Rocket. She’s as smart as a whip and a budding artist as well. She was born in Mexico, along the way toward the South Pacific. Their son, Indigo, was born in New Zealand. He’s 5. And Autumn, their youngest, just turned 2, but swings around the boat like she’s a teenage trapeze artist instead of a graphic one. (The interior of their vessel is like a floating Louvre of children’s paintings.)

They’d been drifting around in Indonesia for three years and were checking out the Komodo dragons when they got a whiff of a rumor about the approaching COVID-19 pandemic. That’s when Indonesia promptly tossed them out as a result of border closures. Or, more accurately, wouldn’t renew their visa.

They too were at loose ends and in dire straits while near the Singapore Strait. They too needed to stash themselves and their boat for a while to figure out their next move.

Now Singapore isn’t exactly yacht-friendly, but it has a huge commercial-freighter industry, and the ships enjoy a type of “seaman visa” that allows transiting crew to enter the country as long as they don’t get off their vessel.

Thus, at the Changi Sailing Club, where we hang out in Southeast Asia and where we are long-term members, these two unrelated cruising vessels suddenly appeared on moorings like ghost ships.

Both crews were legal-eagle with the local laws and, thus, were in strict quarantine for the first 14 days. They couldn’t leave their vessels, and we couldn’t board. However, once we realized their plight, we started spontaneously delivering them shore treats such as fresh juice, fruits and bakery goods.

In order to do this, we’d just holler from the dinghy, wait for the respective crews to gather in sight on their aft deck, then place our unasked-for-but-greatly-appreciated offerings on their bow with our 12-foot-long boat hook. It was not only legal under Singapore law, but completely COVID-safe as well.

Meanwhile Carolyn and I, not realizing their strict visa limitations, waited patiently for the 14-day quarantine to be up so we could show them the town. (We’re head over heels in love with S’pore and enjoy introducing newcomers to its delights.)

The only problem was that even when the time was up, they couldn’t go ashore. Instead, they were confined to their craft for the duration of their visit. Of course, they and their vessels could leave at any time, but instead they chose to stay because they were safe from COVID and, well, no other country would have them.

Strange, right? Limbo? Purgatory?

The crew on Irene have now been here for over two months. Peter and Ginger haven’t been ashore except to deal with officials. In fact, it’s been nearly five months since they’ve wandered down any beach hand in hand. Plus these high-latitude sailors are Arctic-explorer types. Living in the tropics isn’t their cup of tea. The cabin heater on Irene, ordinarily a top priority, is designed to be the social heart of their happy, stout ship. Cheery cabin heaters, though, aren’t much good directly on the equator.

Ordinarily, their idea of a pleasant day in the cockpit involves snow on deck and icebergs over the bows. And yet here they are—grateful for the resting stop but unable to stretch their legs ashore.

But it is the artists James and Jess and their three-member playpen crew that blows Carolyn and me away. I tried to count those kids from my dinghy once—and stopped when I got to 18 and realized I was counting the same three over and over again because they were popping and repopping out of the hatches like jumping beans.

“Yeah,” James admits wryly, “it is kinda strange to be cruising around and always eyeing the next port to pop out a baby in.”

I mean, a 42-foot sailboat must shrink 10 feet per kid, right? And since the entire family is art-struck, each would, of course, like to lead you by the hand to where their pictures are tacked up on the bulkhead.

Glancing through a porthole, I realized I’d forgotten what it is to see a young child without their face illuminated by the glow of a screen. We watch Rocket and Indigo endlessly play on deck, able to amuse each other seemingly forever. (All under the watchful eye of their careful parents, of course.)

So yeah, we do a lot of rail hanging, and we’ve all become great, if socially distant, friends. Since James, Jess, Autumn, Indigo and Rocket number five souls, we can’t visit them because no private vessel can have more than five people aboard.

However, where there’s a will, there’s a way. Last weekend, Carolyn, Roma, and our two grandkids anchored our dinghy not too far off their portside and sort of allowed the kids to co-party within sight of each other. We also dumped off a ton of old books and used toys from Roma’s house, and a good, if weirdly strange, kiddie time was had by all.

The truth is that the cruising community is adapting to new circumstances and travel restrictions in entirely novel and diverse ways. We all love each other in the sea-gypsy sphere, but we have to be more creative during a pandemic.

For the record, no pint-size crew could possibility be more lovable (or creative) than Rocket, Indigo and Autumn. Now if we could only figure out a way to broach the subject of birth control with their parents!

Cap’n Fatty and Carolyn are still having a ball despite being forced to keep a safe distance in Southeast Asia.

The post On Watch: Cruisers Stuck Aboard in Singapore appeared first on Cruising World.

Verdant mountains plunging into a blue sea, dark basalt spires piercing the clouds, jungle vines growing over stone ruins: the Marquesas Islands of French Polynesia have an almost mystical aura about them. At the far eastern end of the South Pacific islands, only 9 to 10 degrees south of the equator, they are remote, hot and humid. They are high islands, volcanoes that have eroded into deep valleys and vertiginous ridges. In some ways, they are the ultimate South Seas idyll: secluded, tropical and ruggedly beautiful. But in other ways, they are far from the postcard picture. Because of their geological newness and because they are on the outer edges of the cold Humboldt Current, the islands have not developed extensive barrier reefs. So they don’t have the lagoons and consequent calm, protected bays that many other Pacific islands boast.

For sailors, this means anchorages exposed to the rolling ocean swell. Even though one finds protection from the strong southeasterly trade winds on the leeward sides of these islands, the swell inevitably rolls its way in. Most sailors don’t consider this a problem. After all, to reach the Marquesas, most voyagers have spent three weeks to a month sailing across the open ocean, in swells much bigger than what one encounters in the islands’ leeward anchorages; we’re acclimated to the motion and hardly notice it. But the fact remains that there is nothing so peaceful as a flat-calm anchorage, sheltered on all sides—especially after a long ocean passage.

Enter Anaho Bay. On the north (leeward) coast of Nuku Hiva lies this beautiful, calm bay, encircled by hills and headed by a bare basalt peak. In all but a north wind, it is perfectly protected. The necklace of beach ashore is soft, white sand, and there’s even a coral reef (a rarity in these islands) that’s built itself along the edges of the bay, home to the colorful and often unique reef fish of the Marquesas.

Read More: Lessons from the Sixth Circumnavigation

There are no roads into Anaho Bay. One can reach the place only by boat, or on foot or horseback along the trail that leads across a little mountain pass to the neighboring village of Hatiheu. The only sounds in the bay are the quiet lapping of water on the beach, the rustle of wind in the trees, the splash of a fish, and the thunk-thunk of the locals cutting copra. A few people do live in Anaho Bay, fishing, farming, and even running a small restaurant for sailors and any other tourists who hike over from Hatiheu. At the time of the lockdown, when the Nuku Hiva government was ordering cruisers to sail to the main town of Taiohae (where the police could more easily keep them under surveillance), the locals in Anaho Bay refused to let their cruisers be taken away. Those at anchor there at the time had been helping the locals with all kinds of projects on their houses and fishing boats. So the lucky sailors stayed in Anaho for the whole lockdown. While I wasn’t among them, I was thrilled to hear the story after the fact, a wonderful instance of the mutual generosity of visiting cruisers and their local hosts. That, even more than the stunning scenery, is what makes the South Seas such a special place.

The post Cruising Anaho Bay, Marquesas appeared first on Cruising World.

Fiji set a glowing example for other Pacific countries this past sailing season by successfully opening its borders to cruisers. The country consequently welcomed over 90 foreign boats, over 300 crew and an estimated $10 million to its shores.

The Blue Lane initiative, launched in June, set strict guidelines for pleasure craft to follow in order to enter Fiji. This protocol involved sailors having to activate their AIS for their entire trip so that the Fijian navy could confirm uninterrupted sailing, along with quarantining crew on board their vessels for a total of 14 days, including passage time. Additionally, all crew had to take a COVID-19 test and obtain a negative result within 72 hours of leaving their original country and again two days before their 14-day quarantine was up.

While Port Denarau is currently the only port of clearance in Fiji, once finished with their quarantine, boats are free to cruise the different island groups as usual.

Though small in number compared with the usual 750 boats that visit Fiji every year, the cruisers that arrived have helped contribute toward Fiji’s suffering tourism industry. They’ve provided the sailmakers, mechanics, electricians, taxi drivers and dive operators with a much-needed income, without which they might not have been able to survive the past few months. Due to a lack of onward destinations, the majority of these boats remained in Fiji during the 2020-21 cyclone season, providing further income for the industry.

United States Ambassador to Fiji, Joseph Cella, invited cruisers who’d participated in this initiative to a buffet brunch to celebrate its success, and there he highly commended the Fijian government for the way it has contained COVID-19. With only 35 cases in total, and no community cases for nearly 6 months, Fiji has handled this pandemic extremely well, with its Blue Lane initiative being a testament to its success. Let’s hope more countries follow suit next season.

The post Fiji’s Blue Lane Initiative appeared first on Cruising World.

This story originally appeared on Sailing Totem.

Route planning is something we geek out on a little. During the last year, it gave me an outlet for escapism during the pandemic. Improbable routing across the North Pacific? Great daydreaming while isolating on Totem, not even swimming off the boat while in view of closed beaches on shore.

What were the distances we could voyage between destinations (open to us during the pandemic) in the Pacific? What seasonality did they introduce? We might not be going anywhere, but I could ponder the possibilities! Getting smarter on route planning is something that’s readily researched ahead of cruising, too.

There are three levels of routing: first, the most zoomed-out big picture view, second, pre-passage plan, then finally, routing once underway. Each one has different dynamics.

Many sailors are dreamers, so dreamscaping destinations comes easily. Covid reduced the options for Pacific stops; an imagined route was challenging, but not impossible, for this dreamer. Hawaii? Family in Hilo to visit! (~2,600nm) Guam? Friends landing there and found a welcoming safe harbor. (~3,300nm) From there, on to Okinawa, southern port of entry for Japan. (a mere ~1,200nm) It’s open to American nationals; perhaps we’d be lucky enough that Taiwan – which I dearly love, thanks to finishing high school and spending time in college there – would open by the time we made it that far. In three big passages, we’d be back in the western Pacific: it is a goal for the years ahead.

Big picture routing might start with a wide-open imagining. Making it into a real plan starts with seasonal constraints. What are the best times for these passages? Does the full distance allow a reasonable pace, and time to enjoy stops along the way? When would it be better to hold off for a month? Where would you want to meander slowly for a season? From there, the planner considers other features of the journey and destination to create a sensible trip framework. Seasonal weather, security, legal, and practical considerations.

Planning For Weather

Weather defines life on boat. Trip up the inside passage sounds fine! In July, that is, but not January. Or to Caribbean islands in search of the last bottle of rum – best outside of hurricane season. The deterrent factors of cold and hurricanes are plain, but there are other weather seasons to consider, based on location: gales (higher latitudes), lightning (Central America and Southeast Asia), squalls (tropics), and monsoon seasons. Monsoonal regions bring seasonally changing winds that blow in the right or wrong direction depending on your timing. Plan weather patterns that makes sailing easier on the boat and crew. My dreamscape is complicated by seasonal conditions layered over distance. Arrive in Guam before cyclone season in the western Pacific: that means leaving for Hawaii… now-ish, and without time for more than a break on the way.

Researching Safety Issues

Security during the journey and at the destination requires research. Skimming along the coast of North America doesn’t carry much threat to personal safety, but still good to learn if your outboard could sprout legs in a given anchorage. When we sailed north from Australia to Papua New Guinea, we were given dire warnings about the dangers that awaited. And like many countries, while it can be painted as dangerous – it is not reflective of the entire nation. I mapped a route based on first hand reports, and it remains among our favorite places. I’ve written in more detail about how to research both regions and destinations for safety issues in “Is Cruising Dangerous?”.

Learning Legal Requirements

Legal procedures for traveling to and from countries can be surprising, and limiting if not prepared. Last year we planned to get a 90 day visa on arrival in French Polynesia; there was also a long-stay visa available through application at French embassies overseas (currently, these are not being issued). We looked further out in 2020 and discovered we’d need proof of measles vaccinations to legally arrive in Samoa. Jamie and I don’t have our childhood vaccination records, and were looking into titer tests and re-vaccination options… and then covid happened.

Making Practical Plans

Practical route planning is a common pitfall of the new cruiser: to dream a big picture route spanning an unrealistic range of places. It’s hard to know until you live underway at sea level, one nautical mile at a time, what those distances really mean. Passage making can be a joy (I’m craving it right now: a glorious respite!) but constantly being on the move to meet an unnecessary objective (Trinidad to Halifax and back this year!) is exhausting. For folks planning from the fast lane of modern life, it’s hard to imagine life at six knots.

Stopping short of an overzealous objective might leave a disappointment in failing to achieve. But achieve what, exactly? We’re here for the experiences, and not the notches in a logbook. Making a plan helps that dreamscape evolve into an achievable future.

Let’s Talk!

TOTEM TALKS: what makes a bluewater boat? This Sunday, Feb 28, at 3pm PT / 6pm ET we’re hosting another open forum on Zoom. There’s a lot of conflicting information and misinformation about features of a bluewater boat. Let’s talk about it! Register to attend.

Clubhouse. Join us for a chat sometime on this newish platform! We came on this week thanks to the other Jamie (from Follow the Boat), finding it fun to engage on this new platform to talk about cruising and help the enthusiastic on their way. Find me lurking around Salty Vagabonds and Sailing Club. The app is iOS only but that should change soon.

Coho Hoho kickoff. March 16. The Best Awaits: Southbound on the West Coast. Sharing information for safe planning and fully enjoying their voyages south for the rally runners! Register at Coho Hoho / events.

Cruising sails seminar. March 25, 4pm Eastern. Sail fundamentals, part of Salty Dawg Sailign Association’s winter webinar series. Jamie’s covering materials, terms, and loads; sail repair basics and common causes of problems; self-inspection before going offshore; observations to make while underway. Fee paid for non-members of SDSA; register on their site.

The post Sailing Totem: Route Planning—The Big Picture appeared first on Cruising World.

What are they thinking?

That’s my first reaction, anyway. To be clear, there are some scenarios that make sense. I’ll get to that: more generally, it does not make sense for most boats at this time. But it seems that the hope of vaccine availability, and perhaps unbridled or uninformed hope, has prompted many plans to head that way regardless.

Stepping back: right now, there are exactly two countries conditionally open to foreign yacht arrivals in the South Pacific. Both require advance permission, which is not assured. Let’s review.

First: some context. The Pacific Ocean is ^%#*ing HUGE. When people get to French Polynesia and crow “we’ve crossed the Pacific!” – no. They are about one third of the way. There’s a lot of ocean not yet “crossed.” Ballpark, in very round numbers: it’s about 9,000 nautical miles across, and Panama (or Mexico) to the Marquesas is about 3,000 nautical miles.

Second: let’s look at those two countries that offer the possibility of arrival: French Polynesia and Fiji.

French Polynesia’s maritime borders remain officially closed. Permission to enter is by application to DPAM (a department for maritime affairs; not related to the consulate). Many have been allowed, but plenty boats from a range of flags have been declined. (It does seem that local yacht agents may have better luck with the process. We had a great experience with an agent in 2010, and had contacted Tahiti Crew for services last year before COVID blew up. Kevin Ellis at Yacht Services Nuku Hiva has assisted others.)

For crews who obtain permission to arrive in French Polynesia, the duration of stay allowed is based on nationality. 90-day visas are granted; French Polynesia stopped issuing Long-Stay Visas (LSVs) last year. EU nationals are able to stay longer. In our experience those 90 days will fly by, although that’s not unreasonable for a boat planning to get all the way across to Australia in one non-cyclone season.

Fiji’s Blue Lane initiative has, like French Polynesia, provided for conditional access to cruising boats. You must apply and have approval before embarking for Fiji. Application is made through one of few approved yacht agents. Crews must provide an advance COVID test (and another after arrival) and meet other requirements such as insurance, visa, and biosecurity. At least sea time is counted towards the 14-day quarantine! It adds up: for our crew, I priced the cost to enter at $2,140 (not including the additional required marina stay).

SO we’ve got French Poly, and Fiji. That means some big @$$ passages. It skips Tonga and the Cook Islands, Samoa and Niue too, on the way to Fiji; it means no stopping at Vanuatu and New Caledonia. All shuttered for arrivals. And then… where do you go from there? This leads us to…

Third: hurricane season options.

Since the pace of vaccine distribution suggests that 2021 will not reach levels allowing other countries in the Pacific to open their borders 2021, destinations for hurricane season are limited. But let’s focus on typical off-season cruising destinations for the South Pacific: Australia and New Zealand. Both offer distant possibilities, neither can be counted on unless you are a repatriating national. For the non-nationals:

• Hope that Australia provides “emergency” access again. After the scare of a big cyclone tearing through Fiji this season, some boats did go on to Oz. They were required to quarantine in a hotel room selected (and serviced: here’s breakfast!) by the government, at the yachties’ expense, while the boat is (also at their expense) in a marina. Expensive.
  
• Pony up for a New Zealand refit. Commit to spending $50,000 NZD (about US$35,000) in New Zealand on vessel refitting and maintenance work, and you can apply for entry. It is not a guaranteed pay-to-arrive, boats have been turned down; but it is one gating factor that opens it as a possibility for non-NZ crews. Damn, this is actually near the level of our annual budget!

Why are people going?

I mentioned at the beginning that there are a few circumstances where it makes sense to set off. Below are the scenarios, but the crews I read about looking to cross … mostly don’t fit into the criteria for following through on them. Basically: the options aren’t horror shows, but they are either quite expensive (fine if you’ve got it), quite inconvenient, or quite significant passages.

• Exit and return to French Polynesia. Leave the boat at a marina French Polynesia and fly out. After 90 days outside the country, your visa clock is reset and you are granted another 90 days. This may be a hardship for many ‘typical’ cruisers who don’t have a land base waiting for them, but it is an option.
  
• Route to Hawaii (if immigration status permits) and from there, back to the North American mainland – or back south to French Polynesia again after spending the requisite 90 days outside of the country. Must have immigration status that allows entry to the USA and love long passages. And once you’re there, anchoring permits cost more than a marina in Mexico and marina waiting lists are real. So not many choose this path because, well, it’s harder.

• Make a North Pacific loop to Japan. Friends on the Leopard 384, Maple, have made plans to sail from French Polynesia to Japan (then, onward home to Canada), which frankly sounds pretty sweet although it may be thwarted by a leaky fuel tank. We’re rooting for them!
  
• Nationals repatriating as is the option available to Aussies and Kiwis – who are still subject to quarantine. (That’s over $6k per person in New Zealand!)

Since the rest of the South Pacific (and most of the North Pacific) is closed, and offers NO indication of opening anytime soon (regardless of protocol, regardless of vaccines – in fact, Vanuatu and New Caledonia just doubled down to be 100% clear on their we’re-not-open status), it is baffling to me that there’s so much murmuring about plans for the Pacific.

I suppose that’s a little like wondering why back in our home country so many activities are opening up despite transmission risks being pretty much worse than ever. Pandemic fatigue is real! If one were to believe that vaccination distribution will occur widely and quickly (despite all evidence to the contrary), it might be possible to have this hope. But it’s not happening quickly, and vulnerable countries have no more incentive to take the risk now than they did in 2020. I really don’t know what most people making plans are thinking.

Here on Totem, we just keep on keepin’ on. You bet we want to be back in the South Pacific, and into the North Pacific, but… oh well!

Our 2021 plans? Safe to say… they don’t include any big Pacific passages. Even if it weren’t for my view on the probabilities of countries opening up, we’re staring down big engine work.

Meanwhile, this week the memory care home where my mother is a resident had a COVID outbreak. Seventeen cases, hopefully no more, but it remains to be seen. Every single one of the residents who tested positive for COVID already had their first vaccination shot. There is plenty of reason to remain more cautious now than ever. And four known COVID variants… We hope every day to see this through without the pain in our family, as we have seen in our friends and their families, to suffer from the disease’s direct impact.

So much going on!

Join us this coming week at the Seattle Boat Show! You can register for as little as $5; Jamie and I are offering several seminars and joining the salty crews from Mahina and Kaiquest for our annual offshore panel.

Diesel engines – coming to TOTEM TALKS: Register here for Sunday, Jan 31st at 3pm Pacific / 6pm Eastern. What does a dumb sailmaker know about marine diesels? Come find out! The truth is that after 13 years of full-time cruising, it’s a surprising amount – and that’s out of necessity. A reliable engine is part of safe cruising, so cruisers should all know about engine care and maintenance. This session will start with a zoomed-out view of component parts, then discuss DIY maintenance including priority and commonly overlooked procedures.

Thanks to everyone who joined us for the Toronto Boat Show this past week! If you registered for seminars, ours can be replayed at leisure.

The post Sailing Totem: South Pacific Cruising in 2021 appeared first on Cruising World.

Travels on Totem

The only year we covered less distance than 2020 was almost a decade ago! In 2011, we were parked in Sydney, Australia, and working to put cash back in the cruising kitty.

Countries visited: 1. As planned, we’d have sailed through about 10 countries while winding a route through the Pacific islands. Oh well! They aren’t going anywhere.

Nautical miles: 1,664. Not bad for staying in one country. On the other hand, this is just a fraction of the coastline in Pacific side of Mexico!

Anchored: 212 nights with anchoring 68 times at average depth of 20 feet. I thought it would be higher, but we also spent time…

Docked: 67 days. This sounded high, then Jamie reminded me that we’d booked a month when my family visited at the beginning of the year; we booked more days to prep for the South Pacific…

Hauled: 81 days. For much of this time, we were away from Totem: road tripping up to stay with my father in November.

Nights at sea: 6. Only six! Talk about a slow year for passages! Still not the lowest (see above…that number was 0 in 2011). We miss passagemaking; I’m not sure 2021 will scratch that itch.

Pandemic uncertainty

Many features of this past year were unprecedented in our cruising experience. Plainly: much of 2020 was just WEIRD. Just as Totem was prepped and provisioned for the South Pacific, the pandemic reality hit and instead of sailing toward a distant horizon, we tucked away for about half the year in the islands of the Loreto Bay National Marine Park. It was strange? But it was safe, and we had everything we needed.

Longest stretch without touching land: 47 days, give or take a few. Memory has mushed “days we got off the boat for a swim/paddle/etc. but didn’t go on land” with “days we got off the boat and actually went on land.”

Days of safety concerns about being in Mexico during pandemic: 0

Misleading claims heard about COVID’s impact on cruising: too many to count

Life aboard

Despite the challenges 2020 held, not much everyday was different at all. We managed as usual aboard our little floating municipality of utilities and needs.

Coolest critters of the year: sharing water with whale sharks and orcas—two days apart!

Most annoying critter of the year: the stingray that slashed/poisoned Jamie. Runner up: bees that delivered a whopper four stings in one day, including a cheap butt shot. Ow!

Number of times our drone lost power and plummeted 400′ to earth: 1. On Boxing Day even.

Number of times recovered drone has been able to fly: 0. Still recovering from this emotionally.

Biggest food fail: homemade bacon jam jar #2 lost in fridge, went moldy. Tragedy!

Biggest food win: a trifecta between Luis Battista’s farm, Senior Juan’s “grandfather’s wheelbarrow” service, and Elena’s personal shopping, all providing dockside deliveries in Loreto. Gold star!

Best upgrades: Cruise RO 30 gph watermaker and washing machine. Ready water on board is great quality of life. The washer doesn’t use any more water than a bucket, but our clothes are cleaned better – and it’s so much easier, we do it more.

Coolest new gadget: Pi server setup for media, backups, and database. We loved this enough to share it on our last TOTEM TALKS – still available to replay!

Internet consumed: LOTS. a significant, unmeasurable spike to accommodate guided meditation online, workout via Zoom (four friends / four countries!), and growth in our Zoom sessions for TOTEM TALKS and consulting work.

A big year for “working cruising”

2020 was going to be the year we slowed down our work with coaching, sails, freelance writing, and leading seminars. South Pacific bandwidth limitations would make it so. It couldn’t have been more different! We increased effort on ALL fronts thanks to the opportunity of good connectivity in Mexico, and less time underway.

Presentations, pre-pandemic: 29 (all in person: seminars in La Cruz, Toronto, Vancouver, and Seattle)

Presentations, post-pandemic:  5 (all online: Wooden Boat Festival, NWSA, and Women’s Sailing Conference) – plus a dozen TOTEM TALKS livestreams.

Articles published: 16, mainly Cruising World and 48° North, plus dozens of blog posts on sailingtotem.com and cruisingworld.com

New TRU crew (coaching clients): 64

Boats evaluated for clients: 116

Clients who started cruising: 30

Clients completing circumnavigations: 2

TOTEM TALKS fashion award: SaltyMatey’s Sam Jobin, for excellence in haberdashery and facial hair

Boldest TRU crew kickoff to cruising during a pandemic: tie between the crew of Atmospheric (required to get permission to fly out of Australia, then starting on a never-before-seen boat and heading down the ICW, in DECEMBER, when it’s approximately 50°F colder than home) and crew of Hindsight (Americans who bought in Greece, then sailed through the Med and across the pond to Grenada; bonus points for best named boat of 2020!).

Most important of all

2020 was strewn with beauty. It is unquestionably the popular narrative that 2020 was a pretty lousy year. And it was, by many metrics. But I like the perspective that strange times bring with them the gift of a reminder for what’s important in life, the relationships we value, and time for introspection. And in hindsight: a lookback on 2020′s prominent memories are not centered on difficulties, but on goodness that happened in the company of friends.

There were beach fires, epic snorkels, belly laughs, stargazing, floatdowning, and more. We held each other up and helped each other forward, as the cruising family does.

If we take away lessons from the accumulation, it’s gratitude for how a cruising lifestyle’s norms has eased the challenges of 2020. More than ever it’s inspiration to help others find their way to life afloat, and be grateful for our cruising tribe on the water.

The post Sailing Totem: 2020 in hindsight appeared first on Cruising World.

At a time of year when cruisers might point their bows south to escape winter in North America, or head to cyclone-free regions across the Pacific, instead they are contending with a wide array of restrictions brought on by the COVID-19 pandemic as a new normal has emerged over the summer. § Looking ahead, top health officials expect the pandemic to increase this winter—and that in 2021, the threat of coronavirus will remain. We hope for a vaccine and yet expect that any success will take time to reach far-flung corners of the world. For the cruiser, or hopeful cruiser, is it possible to plan a safe watery adventure?

Despite a world shrunk by globalization, regional and national responses to coronavirus continue to vary dramatically. There is no crystal ball, of course, so to form a view of what cruising might look like in the year ahead, we reached out to sailors around the world to see what might be possible.

North America

If the mainstream traveler rediscovered staycations, American cruisers are reminded that from Penobscot Bay to the Dry Tortugas in the east, and Puget Sound to San Diego in the west—the United States coastline offers extensive cruising for all seasons. The US border never closed to maritime entry, but a number of states had lockdown periods, and several continue to require different degrees of testing or self-quarantine. A pandemic flare-up could limit movement or require isolating. Other cruisers are placing their bets on a new period of slower-paced Caribbean cruising.

Allan and Lavonne Shelton were bound for Panama after several leisurely months in the Bahamas when borders started snapping shut in March. Making a rest stop in Jamaica en route, the crew learned that Panama had closed. They rerouted back to their home waters in Chesapeake Bay. “We were concerned about the possibility of being stranded somewhere with fewer cruising options than we would have by returning to the US, and we didn’t want to be a burden on another country’s health system.” Lavonne says.

Like many, the added risk of the virus put a damper on their 2021 plans. “We want to be able to socialize freely while cruising. We love hosting visitors aboard Vinyasa, and enjoy visiting others too. Realistically for us, cruising freely means waiting until a reliable vaccine is widely available and we’ve both received it.” The Vinyasa crew plans to sail between seasonal bases in Florida and Maryland until they feel safe to voyage abroad again.

Vivian Vuong and her husband, Nathan Zahrt, call the Compass 47 Ultima home. And 2020 was meant to be their breakout year, leading offshore training passages with John Kretschmer Sailing, but closures in the Bahamas and Florida Keys put a pall on plans. “By July we were finally able to do a training passage from Solomons, Maryland, to Newport, Rhode Island, and had an epic sail in nice weather, full of wildlife sightings. We saw whales, sharks, and pods of hundreds of dolphins feeding on schools of fish,” Vivian says. But they postponed further training passages, and instead shifted to working on superyachts to afford planned upgrades for Ultima. Vivian speaks for ­many cruisers when she says, “The ­hardest part of this pandemic is the uncertainty that it causes,” and in their case, it’s not just where this ocean-girdling couple can go, but the future of their work as well. Looking ahead, they anticipate this winter that Caribbean islands will offer opportunities for their own cruising and, hopefully, voyages they can share with others seeking a life afloat.

Mediterranean

At peak uncertainty when borders closed throughout the region, boats transited the breadth of the Mediterranean without options for landfall. The region later swung hard in the other direction, with uncomplicated movement between most European Union countries with just a few extra steps for clearance. But crews from nations outside the Schengen Area have more to juggle than just the stay limits in member states. If cases surged, how might countries respond? Uncertainty around the answer to this has encouraged many cruisers to focus on a safe harbor where they can make longer-term plans, saving active cruising for a post-pandemic environment.

“Most folks we talk to have a sense of being in a surreal film,” Shannon Morrelli reports from the catamaran Sweetie. They were spending their second winter in Tunisia when cases of COVID-19 surged, and the Monastir Marina ­provided a friendly haven. “It was treated as a single-family residence; cruisers could walk the docks and the marina’s headland during lockdown.” The lockdown started days after Monastir denizens, the American crew of the catamaran Grateful, flew back to the US for a brief visit in March; they weren’t able to get back to Tunisia until September. “Our circuitous return depended on the fact that Turkey (a non-EU country) was happy to have us and our tourism dollars,” Niki Elenbaas says.

When European countries began to reopen borders to their citizens, EU-based sailors left Tunisia for summertime cruising grounds closer to home. It was about another month before non-EU crews were able to sail north. To mitigate uncertainty ahead, Shannon and her husband, Tony, purchased a yearlong marina contract for Sweetie in Monastir; Niki and Jamie Elenbaas have done the same for Grateful. For 2021, they plan to cruise between Tunisia and other Mediterranean countries as restrictions (and Schengen rules) allow— and they expect ongoing changes.

Complexity’s crew, Barbara and Jim Cole, hail from Puget Sound. They have similarly doubled down to reduce their risk from instability in the Mediterranean with a long-term contract at a Cyprus marina. Barbara recalled the stressful passages they made across the Indian Ocean and up the Red Sea in the first months of the year. Although overdue for a trip home, they don’t think a flight to the States is viable given the risks of virus exposure coupled with the possibility of being barred from returning to their Hallberg Rassy 36. “Our resources and health could be taken away by careless exposure; it would be terrible to suffer a devastating illness so far from loved ones,” Barbara says. Meanwhile, the couple purchased a car to better travel the island. These experienced cruisers are upbeat; they don’t talk about being stuck but rather about the historic ruins and local delicacies: “As cruisers do, we are all making the best of our situation.”

Friends aboard the Ovni 41 Xamala empathize. “We have not moved much since our arrival in Crete [via the Red Sea] because of the uncertainty with infection clusters and lockdowns,” Anita Farine writes. Fortunately, as holders of Schengen Area passports, they’re able to extend their stay in Greece. “We feel for our international friends who don’t have many places to go to after the three months in Schengen.”

The Griswold family had just returned to Trifecta in Turkey. “From April through June we lived at anchor with very few boats, cruising the Turquoise coast,” Matt says. Family intentions were to continue west in the Med, then cross the Atlantic as the American family’s sabbatical cruise winds down. Then Turkey closed the border with Greece, and they gained empathy for cruisers who had felt trapped by the pandemic. Malta’s decision to open a corridor for EU access was a welcome relief. “In Malta, we filled out an extra check-in paper on arrival for the health department; otherwise no questions were asked. Life returned to ‘cruiser normal’ in an instant.” They’ve since sailed to Italy, Monaco and France, and are organizing an informal rally of boats bound for the Caribbean for the winter.

South Pacific

Island nations and protectorates in the South Pacific were among the first to lock down borders, and most remain closed. With dispersed populations and limited healthcare facilities, they remain conservative about reopening: To date, only Fiji and French Polynesia have a process for yachts to apply for permission to enter. Most cruisers responded by remaining in place; a minority made a move to Fiji when their Blue Lane Initiative—a program offering cruising boats easier entries, although with strict protocols—to enter a country commenced, and a few are choosing extensive passages to more-distant safe havens.

Like many cruisers, the crew of Maple intended to sail west from French Polynesia in 2020 after enjoying over a year in the islands with a long-term visa. With about two years left in their cruising kitty, they planned a winding path of island hops to reach Southeast Asia before wrapping up to go home to Canada. When the coronavirus stymied this plan, they evaluated how best to make the use of their family time left. Given the closed borders (or unpredictable restrictions) in their original plan, they’ve determined that it will be best to sail a loop through the north Pacific back to Canada. They’ll begin in January with a 5,400-nautical-mile passage from Tahiti to Okinawa, Japan.

“This will be our longest single passage, probably will be for the duration of our cruising lives, but we are oddly looking forward to it,” Darryl Lapaire says. The route will carry them close to islands of closed countries: Tuvalu, Kiribati, Federal States of Micronesia, and Guam. “Some of the islands are quite small, so we will need to be watchful and ensure we are zoomed in on our electronic navigation devices for this segment. Cyclonic storms in the equatorial North Pacific breed in the waters around the Marshall Islands and Micronesia, so from this area to Japan will form the area of greatest risk for us.”

Fiji and French Polynesia have created extensive permissions processes to request entry, making those countries possible options for those crossing the Pacific. Kris Adams and David Frost are longtime cruisers aboard the Kaufman 49 Taipan. Moored in Huahine, their attitude models that of many cruisers in French Polynesia: “We are very content here. We were hoping to be home after 19 years,” Kris says, but “the east coast of Australia is still nearly 3,000 nautical miles and then still a Southern Ocean passage away from our hometown in Albany, Western Australia.” This crew has the chops; they’re just choosing, as are most, to appreciate where they are instead. They can migrate to eastern island groups in French Polynesia for relative safety during cyclone season.

These are the difficult options facing cruisers in this region: Either remain in a hurricane zone for the storm season, or sail significant distances like the Maple crew, or hope for the continued generosity of a host country, or go against prevailing conditions to find an open border—all options fraught with uncertainty of future closures.

Southeast Asia and the Indian Ocean

Although most countries in Southeast Asia aren’t welcoming arrivals, those within borders already are largely accommodated. The lack of options for landfall halted Indian Ocean transits early on; these are now easing, allowing cruisers already there a path from the region. But cruisers are challenged by bureaucracy here, as well as a lack of understanding for their situation, in countries that feel particularly far from home. Cruisers sheltering in place must juggle this uncertainty; many who can are sailing on.

The family aboard Dafne has cruised from North America across the Pacific and through Southeast Asia. As cases of COVID-19 surged, they sequestered for months in Indonesia’s Mentawai Islands. But with a teen heading to college and other family tugs to the US, they made plans to cross the Indian Ocean as soon as there were signs of South Africa opening up. “We would have stayed in Asia if we felt positive about being able to move between countries, but that seemed unlikely and now looks even worse,” Lani Bevaqua says. If a family emergency called them home, they’d be stuck: Interisland travel halted, making it impossible to reach a marina where they could safely leave their boat and access an airport, except by sailing Dafne out of the country. “We felt uncomfortable being caught somewhere that we literally couldn’t leave,” she says from their anchorage in Seychelles. They expect to arrive in the Caribbean next spring, and cruise North America in 2021.

In Indonesia, Adamastor’s crew were ­relieved that the state of emergency allowed continued visa extensions in this notoriously bureaucratic destination. But Jess Lloyd-Mostyn was troubled that “once the emergency stay permit amnesty was over, the first thing we were asked was, ‘Why have you not sailed back to England?’ It’s very hard to explain calmly how impossible such a thing (a journey of 13,000 odd miles) would be right now, with three young children, and not feel frustrated.”

Jess, husband James and their little ones intended to leave Indonesia earlier this year to avoid exceeding the three-year cruising permit; with no borders open nearby, they might face a hefty bill to import the boat. Yet Jess remains optimistic as they progress toward a clearance port to demonstrate their intentions to depart when it’s reasonable, and appreciates their relative security. “I think that things are harder for cruisers in Thailand because the immigration laws want foreigners to leave, but the Customs laws state that boats can’t be left unattended. Couple that with all the surrounding borders being closed, and what can you do?”

Interim Models for Cruising

While the options vary by region, there are clear themes. Even under the assumption that 2021 will continue with many countries inaccessible, there will be fluctuating regulations in those that are accessible, and added hurdles for clearance into nearly all locales. Two basic approaches stand out: first, taking longer passages to fewer destinations; second, cruising within a country or region where clearances are easier. More-experienced cruisers are better-prepared for the first, and any can choose the latter.

For most cruisers, the patience born of our adage that plans are made in the sand at low tide is playing out in new approaches. Some are reducing range, or keeping potential passage distances to reach backup-plan harbors in mind when making destination decisions. Others are slowing down, whether forced by quarantine or to enjoy fewer places for longer. And nearly all anticipate more hurdles—for more paperwork, more communications ­requirements and more fees.

What’s gone until the world has a widely available, reliable vaccine is the model for visiting a string of countries in a season or even a year. Bucket listers in search of a circumnavigation can’t count on the access to ports (regulations might change while underway) or access to goods or repairs in a typical fast-track loop.

Starting Under Pandemic

Should those with a long-held dream to go cruising hold off on a 2021 departure? This decision is based on individual circumstances and risk tolerance, just as in any other year. The stakes are just higher now, and the well of patience, perseverance, and skills needed for safe and comfortable cruising tapped further.

On the west coast, the reduced size of a casual rally that annually progresses down the US West Coast highlights this decision. The Coho Ho-Ho is an informal fleet where crews head south from Puget Sound on their own timetable, sharing information and camaraderie along the way. In a typical summer, the fleet is comprised of a few dozen boats; this year, all but two canceled southbound plans. Cruising in Mexico on his Lord Nelson 35 Jean Anne, Steve Olson says: “I was a bit shocked and saddened when I heard that cruisers were opting not to sail down to Mexico due to COVID. Knowing what I now know about Mexico and Mexican cruising, I feel much safer and less at risk of contracting COVID down here than I would in the US.”

Yet for many, the pandemic is motivation to set sail despite the challenges. Yacht brokers report that boat sales are booming. Subscribers to the coaching ­service my husband, Jamie, and I have to help cruisers and potential cruisers ­succeed is running at double pre-­coronavirus levels. One family we’re working with recently flew to Grenada (via a couple of other island hops because there are no direct US flights); they waited out a 14-day quarantine in a beachfront cottage there before moving onto their new-to-them catamaran. Another family flew from the US to Latvia for a 14-day “country cleaning” before heading back across the pond to Martinique to a boat waiting for them. Still others are ­beginning on the US coast, where no international clearance is needed to spread their cruising wings.

While 2021 might not be a good year for new cruisers to strike out across oceans, ranging from a point of ­departure is reasonable. The slower pace and necessity to watch regulations might even facilitate softer landings into the lifestyle, and open experiences missed on a faster track.

Looking Forward

As this issue goes to press, COVID-19 ­cases are rising again in many regions. Lessons from 2020 suggest that advance planning will continue to be difficult, and travel corridors might not emerge. Many common cruising routes—such as exploring the Caribbean chain, sailing coastwise through Latin America, or winding across the South Pacific—include migrations through countries that are more vulnerable to outbreaks, with healthcare systems that sailors might not wish to test. While it is still possible to cruise, it is more complicated.

Cruising now leans on deeper skills and resourcefulness. It requires patience and research, and costs more. But a focus on experiences rather than route schedules can bring fresh perspective into the joys of voyaging. More than ever, cruising will be about sensitivity to the locales hosting our vessels. It will be about taking the time to find empathy for the outlook of the local communities we anchor near.

Aboard Totem, our family’s cruising plans were upended in 2020. Instead of ­departing Mexico to sail to the South Pacific, we self-isolated for months in the Sea of Cortez. As much as we crave a return of passagemaking to faraway places, I expect that 2021 will continue to feature tacos instead of bringing back poisson cru. But for our crew, as for many cruisers, the joy of life afloat stems from experiences within the journey—not chalking up destinations. In the past week, wildlife encounters with a transient pod of orcas, filter-feeding whale sharks, and yipping coyote packs in the moonlight reminded us again that magic exists wherever you choose to seek it, and doesn’t know there’s a pandemic on.

Follow along with Behan Gifford and the rest of the Totem crew at cruisingworld.com/sailing-totem.

New Clearance Requirements

Arriving into a new country just got more complicated. Processes and paperwork vary; this list is based on a common range of requirements among Caribbean islands.

• Have arrival authorization issued prior to departure from a previous port.
• Take a pre-departure COVID-19 test, generally specified to be the RT-PCR (nasal swab).
• Carry proof of health insurance.
• Expect a health check on arrival, including additional COVID-19 testing.
• Expect quarantine days, depending on travel history; some islands credit sea time.
• Carry a supply of approved face masks and a thermometer.
• Use a contact-tracing app while in country.

The post The Outlook for Cruising 2021 appeared first on Cruising World.

German sailors Annemarie Auer and Volker Frank, aboard their CNB 66 yacht, Escape, have a near-perfect strategy for sailing through these uncertain COVID-19 times: They have no plan.

OK, they can tell you where they’ll be next week, and they will explain how they expect to get there and where they might be on to next. But the big picture? They want to see the world. That’s it. Their timeline is open-ended. And as for destinations, they’re keeping an open mind about that too.

I met the couple on a sunny, warm early-October morning in Annapolis, Maryland, where we were taking a lay day from our Boat of the Year sea-trial duties. Escape’s carbon mast was by far the tallest stick in the marina, tucked just inside the bridge at Spa Creek. When I arrived dockside to knock on their hull, Volker was deep down in a cockpit locker cleaning what looked to be an already spotless space.

The couple had taken ­possession of their brand-spanking-new boat a year and a half earlier with the intention of, well, making their escape, an adventure Annemarie chronicles at sailingescape.blog. From Bordeaux, they crossed the Bay of Biscay and made their way to the Canary Islands, where they kicked around for five months before joining the Atlantic Rally for Cruisers, which got them as far as St. Lucia. “It was great,” Annemarie says of the ARC. “It was an experience we liked. I had a feeling of safety.”

From there they made their way to Martinique, where they left Escape for a brief visit home to Cologne, Germany. Then they arrived back in Le Marin just ahead of the pandemic lockdown. For some, being sidelined in a foreign country is a challenge bordering on a nightmare. For the crew of Escape? Not so much.

They describe the strict quarantine as a two-month holiday on their boat, surrounded by a large sailing community. They enjoyed the daily radio net and met tons of other liveaboards as they socialized by dinghy. “For us, it was not a problem,” Annemarie says.

When restrictions eased, they sailed north to the US Virgin Islands and joined the Salty Dawg rally to the States. The passage, which ended at the Chesapeake Bay in June, took them eight days. At sea, Volker does most of the sailing, with Annemarie standing the occasional watch during daylight while he naps. He says he enjoys essentially singlehanding the boat, taking advantage of the in-boom electric mainsail furler and the triple-headsail rig’s self-­tacking jib. The CNB is the couple’s fourth boat. They first got into sailing by chartering with friends, then bought a Sunbeam 29, which they kept in the Med. Their last boat was a Bavaria 55 in Mallorca.

Over the summer, they anchored off the Statue of Liberty, hopscotched through New England, and sailed north as far as Roque Island in Maine before returning to Annapolis. It’s the first time they’ve sailed in the States, and the Franks say they’re struck by how friendly people have been. “It’s a lot of freedom, sailing here,” Volker says, adding that compared with the Med, “you can anchor anywhere.”

After sorting out a few boat issues in Annapolis, the Franks plan to head south to the Bahamas and then back to the Caribbean for the winter.

Down below on Escape’s main bulkhead next to Volker’s office, there’s a world map with hand-drawn routes showing the Franks’ travels through Europe, across the Atlantic, and north nearly to the Canadian border and back. He says they’d like to return to visit the East Coast again before heading for the canal and across the Pacific. Perhaps the future holds a year or two in Australia, a winter in New Zealand and then a ­voyage north to Japan. “Forget the Indian Ocean,” he says. But the Pacific Northwest is ­definitely on their to-see list, along with Hawaii. When might that happen? Who knows. With COVID-19 restrictions, it’s impossible to chart a course, Volker admits. But right now? “We are happy,” he says. And as for seeing the world? “We have time.”

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