Coron, Philippine Islands

First glimpses of Coron

Encountering Corona Closings in Coron - March 17, 2020

For the past four days we have been out of internet range - diving in the remote Apo Reef, anchoring beside deserted sandy beaches, and enjoying the stillness.  Somehow, my phone picked up a smidgen of internet somewhere, though, and our stillness was shaken as this message popped up on my text feed from my friend Kerry who had just left us to get back to Australia:

“Do you have internet where you are?  Looks like we just made it through the Manila airport in time!!  Best you keep on sailing - the world’s gone mad!!”

After pulling out of Puerto Galera and being away from the media coverage for four days, we have finally anchored in Coron and have been bombarded with the onslaught of travel restrictions, lockdowns, and mandated closures.  Apparently, a lot can change in four days!

One and Two - check!  Three - not a chance.

What used to be seen as overdramatization and over-reaction suddenly seemed reasonable and alarmingly necessary.  This COVID-19 was ramping up, and governments around the world were taking drastic measures to protect their countries from hospital overwhelm and complete chaos.  Once we caught up on the newsfeed about the increasing spread and immediate need to take action that would ‘flatten the curve’, it was apparent that this virus was going to have an impact on many areas of our lives.

Sailing Plans

Could we enter Malaysia in April as planned or would the lockdown still be in place?    How would the authorities in Coron react to us being here?  If we did need to evacuate, what would that look like for us - leave the boat where?  fly to where?   We have been reading about sailors who sail for days to a destination, only to be refused entry or told to stay onboard for a specified quarantine period.  Basically, that means we A) need to stay where we are, and B) need to make sure we are provisioned for at least a month or two.  In some ways, a sailboat isn’t a bad place to be stuck during a pandemic, as long as we are adequately prepared.

Travel

This summer we had grand plans to finally go back to the US after two years away.  Family reunions were organized, airplane and event tickets purchased... you know, all the big plans that the “10-person gathering” recommendation shuts down.  With the current rules in place and IF we could find a place to dock the boat, we could possibly still go home.  However, then we run the risk of not being able to return to the boat for the foreseeable future.  Ah, the complexities this corona virus has brought about.

Visas

Right now, we hold tourist visas that allow us to stay in the Philippines for a little under two months.  But the big question is, what happens when our visas are up?  Will we be allowed to renew?  Or will we be sent away?  Many cruisers are finding themselves uncertain about how to adhere to the immigration laws of the country in which they are currently moored.  In Malaysia, for example, sailors often hop to Thailand, then back to Malaysia in order to get a renewed visa issued.  That’s not an option for them anymore.  What should they do?  How long will these countries be shut down?   (update: many countries have waived the immigration deadlines and will not administer fines for overstayed visas)

Weather

Always a vital aspect of any sailor’s passage planning is weather.  The patterns of the wind often dictate where we go and when.  Right now, for example, we are enjoying the cooler dry season as we travel west through the Philippine Islands.  Strong tradewinds from the northeast provide comfortable downwind sailing and naturally propel us southwest towards Malaysia, our ultimate destination.  These winds, however, begin to blow the opposite direction in late April.  If we cannot get into Malaysia and out of this wind pattern by the time the weather turns, we will be forced to either stay in the Philippine Islands or beat against the winds and waves for hundreds of miles.

We are shocked to see Coron as a ghost town, everything shut down.

The following day...  

We ventured ashore yesterday to grab a few provisions, check out the town, and maybe talk to some dive operations.  Trucks were hauling dirt, reclaiming a large portion of the sea as a new waterfront.  Dust blew into our faces as we trekked across the desolate new land.  It felt like we were in some old western film, walking into a ghost town.  Nothing was open, doors were shut and boarded up.  The market had one stall open where I quickly bought a tray of fresh eggs, wondering for how many weeks I should provision.  This is a crazy time.

While I was loading up my plastic egg cartons, a man in uniform approached us abruptly.  “Where are you staying?  Where are you from?”  When we told him that we were on a yacht, his facial expression changed from authoritative indignance to complete confusion.  “All tourists have to fly out in 72 hours due to the one-month quarantine in this province.  There will be no other way for you to leave.”  It was obvious that he didn’t really understand our situation.  “We can sail away from here.  We don’t need to get a ferry or a flight.”  A blank stare.  He wasn’t sure what to do with us.  “I’m going to alert the coast guard, “ he quickly stated and walked away.  Mark and I looked at each other, shrugging our shoulders.  We had thought the quarantine had been set only for the Manila area, but it turns out, Coron is part of the same province.  Hmmm.  Our minds’ wheels began turning.

In the grocery store, there was a crowd of people at the register with cardboard boxes filled and ready to take out to their villages.  No one was panicked, but people were stocking up.  I had a short list of things we needed, but we decided to go investigate further before buying groceries that we’d have to carry around.

Kicking myself for not buying a few things while we were there!

A frozen yogurt shop beckoned us as we walked past.  Behold!  It was open!  Inside we met a nice woman (from Switzerland, perhaps?) who owned the place.  She studied us closely before asking, “How is it that you are still here?”  We briefly explained and she graciously proceeded to offer to sell us cheese, coffee, wine, veggies, etc.  As we sat there enjoying the mango frozen yogurt, it gradually dawned on us that we might need to get the heck out of here, and fast.  Since no one really knew how we fit into the quarantine regulations, we feared that the coast guard would decide to force us to stay for the entire month.  In a flash, we gulped the last of our frozen yogurt and high-tailed it back to the boat, not stopping anywhere on the way.  Anchors aweigh and we motored into a small, secluded bay to gather our thoughts and make a plan.
   

Self-isolation with a view