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When we set sail on this grand adventure, we discussed every potential scenario we could think of. Global pandemic and being locked into Aleta was not on the list. We are now almost 14 days into an indefinite and very strict lockdown.
Our marina, Yacht Port Cartagena, has about 250 boats docked here. The vast majority are empty. Only about 20 boats have people living on them full time. Our fellow liveaboards are mostly from the UK, a few from Ireland, and the rest a small cadre of Scandinavians, French and Germans. Ages range from young families with small children, to retirees who over-winter here for several months every year. The collective cruising experience is generally limited. Meaning, most crews sail only during the day from marina to marina. Folks are (appropriately) surprised and impressed when we tell them we sailed across the Atlantic.
Like the 40 or so people in our small, gated community, and millions of others around the world, we’re biding our time with boat chores, limited exercise, online courses, reading, podcasts, games, cooking, and talking about the future. Each day we join a VHF radio net and share updates and concerns. Together we try and figure out how to best support each other. The last few days, however, have produced new challenges and upped the ante on stress.
Murcia averages 325 sunny days per year. This week it felt like the other 40 days came all at once. It was miserable, thunder, lightning, high winds, and the most rain we’ve seen since we’ve been in Spain. Cartagena got over 5 inches of rain in 24 hours, causing floods and bringing more trouble to the already distressed city.
As for exercise, we were getting in at least a couple of miles a day walking up and down inside the marina. The waterfront is 409 steps each way. I’ve counted them several times. Marlon runs at least twice that distance since he runs back and forth as we throw his ball. We are down to his last tattered tennis ball; the neon green fuzz hangs off it in tufts. So, we’re careful to throw it only on the pavement and close to the wall.
Occasionally, when there’s a particularly long throw, the ball begins rolling towards the water and we egg Marlon on to grab it in the nick of time. The other day it rolled under a small portable building housing vending machines and the marina’s free library. Mike, lying flat on his stomach, reached under with the Chucks-It and barely coaxed the ball out. Five minutes later I made a wild throw and it bounced on the dock and fell into the water. Thankfully it floated within reach. Phew! Two new crises averted!
There’s comfort in these moments of distraction. Pretending these are our only real-world problems, I’ve found new ways to exercise in the boat during the recent deluge. In addition to tried and true pull-ups from the top of the companionway (well, that was Tai, I mostly just hang), there’s salon Parkour. Using the grab rails, I nimbly circle the cabin without touching the floor.
Then there are step-ups on the companionway stairs. This excites and confuses Marlon who thinks we’re about to go out one moment, but then in the next thinks I’ve changed my mind. I dug out my rubber exercise bands, stashed away when we first set sail and completely forgotten about. Rubber doesn’t store well in a damp boat for two and a half years, but after a wash I salvaged two of them.
Annoyingly, my yoga mat won’t lie flat and folds up against the bulkheads. I discovered if I lay it down at an angle with one end in the door of the aft cabin and the other under the nav station, and the winds aren’t rocking Aleta too much, I can manage a twisted downward dog.
Today the sun returned. Things began to dry out. Fellow sailors milled around their cabin tops busy with boat projects or hanging laundry. The collective mood seemed a tad more positive. Until, that is, news of the marina’s first suspected case of corona virus broke. Just like the rest of the world, the lack of test kits here is dire. Until tests are done, though, nothing can be confirmed 100%. The news is no surprise. We figured it was just a matter of time. But it does feel like a state change.
Regardless of the challenges, and ours are truly few, every day has a bright spot: at 8:00 pm, rain or shine, the Spanish (and us guests) honor the doctors, nurses, and others working tirelessly on the front lines, by standing on their balconies, or opening windows (or hatches), and cheer and applaud them.
It began slowly. The first night we went topside to cheer was two weeks ago, when Lauren and Wade were still here. We only heard other faint noises in the distance. Now it sounds like the entire city participates. Police turn on sirens, church bells ring, boat horns blare, and firecrackers boom. For a few minutes it feels the complete opposite of social distancing, and that we will all come out of this stronger.
Mike give me you Skype number so I can call you
What an inspiring thing Cheers time is! I wonder if I can get the same thing going here (not semi-rural Dennis, probably, but maybe the harbor/hospital area of Hyannis?).Keeping one fathom apart, to be sure.
Go for it! I’m encouraging everyone to make noise wherever they are. And proper distancing will encourage more volume.
Carol and Mike,
Thanks for the update. I hope you continue be to safe, well, and joyful through this emergency. I love the nightly cheer idea too and will pass it along here.
As for Portland, most of our dogs on walks maintain a social distance of approximately zero in utter disregard of governmental pronouncements. Not so for their humans.
Thanks Ron we’re doing our best to keep Marlon out of prison. It’s not easy! Stay well. I think the safest places are probably in the mountains.
Ron and Mike – what a way to communicate – eh? Who woulda thought? Our scenario planning didn’t include this! Stay well and sane. My boys (Augie and Jasper) keep me entertained – not sure I do the same for them. They like to write to Marlon, however! Sending our best HEALTHY vibes your way. – Shari + A&J
“Where there’s will” comes to mind. And yes, truly inspiring to read of the applause of the city for the tireless frontliners. Wonderful. There are many kindnesses appearing everywhere here as well but to read of the Spaniards response? Very moving. Thank you for this share. Be well. Namaste.
Thanks, Cindy. I hope your move went well, and you and yours are staying healthy.
Carol, we are so touched by your inspiring message. It lifts up our spirit at this extraordinary time! Thanks you for sharing!! Take care and bless!
Lily, I’m so happy I could lift your spirits! We’ve been thinking a lot about you and Beaver, and worried for all our friends in NYC. Please continue to stay well! Sending love and lots of good thoughts.
I love your 8 pm ritual. We’ve seen it on the news. Stay healthy and I’m so glad you have a cute & very smiley roomate/wife :)))
Marlon and I resemble that remark! Thanks Lynn! ;^)
OOPS ! I see this was posted by Carol – all my love to you all !
Thanks, Lynn! Lots of love to you and the boys!
Thanks for the update, Carol, from so far away. Holding you all close in my heart!
Terry, we’re only far away physically. Love and hugs.
hi –
just a brief message to let you know that Bob is doing well and we keep in close contact daily. we’re all “aging in place” in albuquerque, perhaps some more gracefully than others, with storm clouds on the horizon, but only 150 cases in new mexico so far. thanks for keeping us in the Kemble loop. even this shall pass.
Bill,
Thank you so much for the note. It’s a huge relief knowing you’re there. I was hoping we might get to crash at your place in August…we’ll still hope for the best without planning anything. Please take good care. Love to you and Alice.
Ok, something to consider:
It’s Chapter 19.
Marlon says: “Don’t throw me the ball.”
Sending aloha.
Patti
Ha! Marlon and crew sending aloha back atcha.
Love you guys and enjoy all your posts. thanks for the Corona update. Stay safe and healthy!
Thank you, Ginger. I hope all is well with you and the family, and hope to have another reunion before long. Lots of love.
Thanks Mike and Carol for all your posts, stories & updates…. definitely appreciate how you would not have anticipated this particular challenge!
Stay strong & well!
Miss you, Anne. Give everyone hugs from me. Stay well and healthy!
Like the others, I”m grateful for these updates and that you are doing well, mostly inconvenienced (something we can all deal with, honestly! We aren’t ACTUALLY in prison camps!).
It seems to me that you guys are really well prepared actually, already your own little island of sorts, already -for years now- communicating with friends and family primarily through technology. In the freshest of air 24/7.
I”m going to try that Parkour trick around my living room with the kids. It won’t be pretty, but it will be fun. 😉
sending love, sanity, and health
Julie, It’s easy for me to picture you and the kids doing living room Parkour-please send photos! May your biggest challenge be keeping Finn and Zoe occupied. Sending love, sanity and health back at you all. xo
Wowee! Sounds like the REAL adventure is now! You made it past the sharks, the ocean’s rouge waves and the pirates only to be quelled by a teeny tiny little bug invisible to the naked eye. When I see you again, I expect you to be fully fluent in Japanese, have a Phd in biochemistry and completed your first novel. Ahhhh….love the online classroom!!
Be safe, be sane. We all are rooting for you and the tennis ball to hold together a littttle longer! <3
Thank you for ALWAYS making me smile and feel better, no matter the circumstances. Dang, this lockdown better last decades if I’m to chip away at this list… Be well and keep spreading your joy. Love and health.
Marlon, Hang in there, and keep impressing the locals with your worldly ways and chill Portland attitude. When you get back here I’ll show you some of my favorite places. Maybe we can meet Augie and Jasper some time too on a combined road trip.
That’d be awesome. Something to look forward to. Arf, arf, woof, woof, yappity yap.