Page 34 - QARANC Vol 19 No 1 2021

32 The Gazette QARANC Association
Lockdown abroad and on board!
All of us have individual experiences of lockdown in Spring 2020, and sadly a few found themselves in situations no one could or would want to deal with and my thoughts are with them. Here is my personal experience of a slightly unusual set of circumstances but on reflection, aspects will feel quite familiar to those of us who have served in operational field conditions and far from home.
On retiring from Regular Service in April 2019 my other half Oz and I embarked on a long held and meticulously planned voyage. We literally sold up chattels, rented out our homes and moved aboard our old sailboat, Eclipse of Penarth. She is 13 metres long and 4 metres wide at her widest. For a boat, very ample living space with most amenities for a vintage classic. Our biggest perceived challenge at the time was crossing Biscay and learning how to get along, for in our 16 years together, both serving we had rarely spent time under the same roof, let alone in postings close by. We were used to romantic and much looked forward to weekends and leave, but not actual living together. What could possibly go wrong?!
We set off from Cardiff in May 2019. The sailing bit we could do and Biscay was a challenge, so onward we went toward the Mediterranean where we intended to spend a couple of years exploring every gorgeous nautical mile. Having arrived in Lagos, Portugal in August, we were keen to stop, rest and spend time with family who live there. So we checked in to the marina at Lagos for winter, planning to set off again at the end of March. The rest you
already know, except Portugal acted very early on news of the outbreak and well ahead of the UK with social distancing measures. The stay at home message became lockdown under a national State of Emergency. This meant that legal powers to compel compliance were available to the GNR National Guard and Police. But it was rarely applied because people truly did comply. Queues outside supermarkets were spaced 2 metres apart, staff allowed one in one out and hand gel was compulsory on entry and exit. Bars and restaurants closed overnight, exercise was permitted once daily and within 100 metres of your home address, walking a dog was allowed and I wished we had one! COVID-19 testing stations in tents cropped up in car parks and social services mobilised to help vulnerable people. The low numbers recorded for infections and fatalities in the south speak for themselves; masks were worn straight away and most people didn’t wait to be told.
For us in the marina, we found ourselves ‘happy’ captives. The same rules applied as living in a house; no leaving the boat except for food, exercise or medical help, no meeting others outside of your boat household, but we were part of a community of many nationalities of cruising sailors all unable to leave port at all. We applied for residency so no visa issues and as we had no home available to us in the UK, we did not repatriate on the last flights out.
Emotions ran high with the call from the NHS and NMC to re-register and return to practice. The logistics of getting home were near impossible by
then and extortionately expensive. I did register and approached the Portuguese nursing regulators to volunteer. Whilst my registration was recognised, I had to be fluent in language and take an exam. I wasn’t that good and even so, the examination centres were shut down, but I was accepted as a nursing assistant to a charity providing palliative community care, similar to Macmillan Nurses but refocusing on COVID-19 end of life care. Somehow I felt less useless and able to do my bit and without that I think I would have struggled. I used my skills and sewed face masks whilst on board.
Mercifully the need was negligible in the Algarve and I wasn’t required. The boat seemed to shrink as the weeks went on and freedoms decreased. Cabin fever now had real meaning and I was desperate to walk along the beautiful beaches and go sailing but it was forbidden. Oz busied himself studying all kinds of subjects online and working on boat maintenance. As a community, we became used to socialising using our VHF Radios; we had quiz nights and stood on decks playing musical instruments and singing. We drank an awful lot. Bonds were made with people in ways akin to the military family. The advantage to being in the marina is the hook up to mains power and water, so we had heating in the colder nights and could run our fridge and microwave as well as use our oven. I avoided the communal showers for obvious reasons and braced myself for cold water washes and showers as we have no water heater on this vintage old girl. Living away from land on the boat reminds me of field conditions and I am happy to live that way for fairly long periods. We felt fortunate to be protected by our residency status and with a ‘home’ port. Stories emerged of friends and others caught out on longer passages as lockdown across Europe’s borders happened. Shut out from countries and moved on by maritime Police or coast guards and only allowed to dock for fuel and water before being ushered out to anywhere else but there, no matter how stormy. Many ended up sitting in anchorages relaying on the good nature of local boats to shop for them and deliver supplies by dinghy. Stepping off the boat and onto land risked immediate arrest and jail.
Eclipse of Penarth
The day restrictions were eased and