29 Mar Ghost Town

As I write this, we are in the middle of a 7-day 24-hour “curfew” here in the BVI. Curfew here is virtually mandatory lockdown of all except police, fire, utility workers. Citizens are not allowed to leave their homes. Grocery stores and banks are closed, and there is a zero-tolerance policy. How does this affect us? Well, it all started when we were stopped by the BVI Customs enforcement boat just north of Virgin Gorda a few days ago.

It was Friday, March 27th. We were sailing from Peter Island to a reef off of Necker Island (Sir Richard Branson’s private pad) to meet some new friends and do a bit of snorkeling. (Our friends Nils and Ashley aboard Liberty are racing sailors from the Midwest chartering their 44 Lagoon.) We are now sailing everywhere, using the diesel engine only for safety to save our diesel as marinas here are closed. The sailing conditions were perfect, 10 knots of breeze, flat-ish blue water, and no other boats about. We were reaching along under jib alone, we decided to hoist the main and make a detour to Anegada because the wind angle was perfect. A few minutes after the mainsail was up and we were dialed in on course to the next island, we heard a really loud go-fast boat behind us.

A grey cigarette boat blasted out of Leverick Bay and was headed directly at us at a high rate of speed. Must be some people are taking a quick run to Anegada also we figured until they got closer. They were zeroing in on us. I grabbed the binoculars and checked them out. We could hear them better than we could see them, but upon inspection, this boat was well equipped. As they approached, we could start to make out the blue flashing lights among the radar and FLIR cameras. Four members of the BVI customs/drug interdiction team were on board, and they looked like the meant business.

We eased off all sails and waited for them to get closer, careful to keep our hands where they could see them and not to make any sudden moves. Intimidated, we thought for sure were going to get boarded by force. They idled alongside us, asking questions about what we were doing and if we were aware of the upcoming curfew. We said we were but weren’t quite sure how it applies to us as we were in our “home” already on the boat. We had some back and forth, it turned out, they weren’t really sure how it applies to us as well. After a few conferences in the back of their boat, they came back and told us, “You need to Check Out of BVI NOW! Go directly to the post office and check out! YOU WILL COMPLY!”

Well, you don’t argue with four people in a grey boat with 1000 horsepower and guns. Yes, sir! We gybed away and set every sail we had, headed toward Sopers Hole/West End. Main, G3 Spinnaker, staysail. West End was the location of the only customs currently open to recreational vessels; unfortunately it was all the way on the other side of BVI. Looking at our GPS, our ETA was after the port would close. We would be in a catch 22 situation of “you can’t leave, but you can’t stay here” if we didn’t check out, as our visa ended before their lockdown was over and BVI requires vessels to check out. We still aren’t sure about the legality of all of this, but as I said before, I don’t argue with guys with guns.

Making things a little more stressful, the customs boat was following us. Essentially we were leading a low-speed sailboat vs. powerboat police chase. They stayed about ¼ mile to our port quarter, hovering almost like they were stalking their prey, waiting for the time limit to run out so they could arrest us. Not good. We decided we needed another option, so we tried hailing them on VHF channel 16 to ask if we could divert to Spanish Town port and visit the customs office there. No answer. After continued hails on VHF, we waved our hands at them. No dice. We then googled the customs office phone number and called them. They weren’t sure what we should do and told us to contact the boat, they also offered to wave at them as a solution. Great!

We did ‘t want to drop the kite and turn the boat 100 degrees without informing them. The last thing we wanted to do was make a surprise movement. We are trying to play this cool, remember. So how else do you hail another boat on the water? Were we left with flags and horns? We brought out the air horn, and after a few blasts, they finally called us on the radio and asked us what we wanted. They OK’ed our diversion to Spanish Town, but that was still over an hour away, and as a commercial/ferry only port, they were closing at 3:30 pm. Even worse, it was directly upwind. Another sail change to drop the staysail and unfurl the jib. Remember, we are trying to conserve as much diesel as possible in case we can’t access a marina or fuel docks are closed because of lockdowns.

We sailed into port, right up to the rocks, and dropped a sketchy anchor set in 9 feet of water. With minutes to spare, I donned my painting/fiberglassing respirator, long sleeves, gloves, shoes, and socks and shot to the beach as fast as the 5 hp Tohatsu would allow. It seems they haven’t seen too many people in the customs office with masks or respirators, the crisis hasn’t really come to full realization here in the BVI. I was laughed at, but they processed my paperwork. I explained to them that we have been on the boat since this has started and intend to keep the boat as close to a safe place as possible.

We thought we were going to have to leave the BVI immediately based on what the guys on the customs boat said. We were relieved to hear from the customs office that we could date the check out form ahead to our expected check out date when their office was closed, allowing us to stay the length of our current visa. We anchored off of The Baths for the night, catching our breath.

We woke up to a ghost town of sorts. There are a few anchored boats, mostly charter yachts with no guests and nowhere to go. No boats were moving on the water. No ferries, no cargo ships, no sailboats. A sight one doesn’t really see here. We were off today to dive the wreck of the Rhone, a popular dive spot in the BVI, which was usually swarming with tourists.

There was no one there, all the moorings were empty. We were completely by ourselves, seemingly in a very remote place. It was eerie, especially considering the story of the Rhone. It is a mail/passenger that was diverted to the BVI (Peter Island) for fuel. With an oncoming hurricane attempted to get out to sea to ride it out. The wind shifted and drove it onto the rocks, killing over 100 people in the sinking. Because of the curfew, there is no rescue, towboats, or coast guard to help here. We were diving alone, which would test our skills and confidence.

We finished off the day sailing to Norman island. There are a few boats. A large charter powerboat which seems to be moored for a hurricane, a Gunboat catamaran, and a mono-hull charter boat. We grabbed a mooring as there is no one around. We are not allowed to go on land because of the lockdown, but no-one said we can’t go swimming, sailing, and free diving. We are off to explore The Caves and the Indians today.

Cheers, from Lockdown in the BVI!