Independent or Oblivious?

One of the aspects of cruising life that we cherish the most is the independence. We decide where to go, when to go, and how to get there. It’s easy to be sucked into thinking that any decision we make is one that only affects us and nobody else.

For a long time, our version of this has extended to not carrying any kind of EPIRB or PLB. We wear PFDs when offshore at night, clip ourselves in, practice MOB drills - and also realize that if we fall overboard, we’re dead. This is a risk we take, and asking someone else to somehow pop to our rescue doesn’t necessarily seem fair.

Before you start yelling at me, I will say our feelings on this have changed a bit. Not because we think anyone else should rescue us (because we still will do all we can, both in preparation and sailing techniques, to not be in a position to have to pull the alarm button on a device like that) but because we’ve had good friends and our kids ask us to please carry them. The peace of mind for the ones we leave behind is not insignificant and nudges some cracks into this idea of complete independence.

None of us makes decisions in a vacuum. Maybe it’s as simply complex as the Butterfly Effect (and as hard to grasp) and maybe it’s as simple as seeing the results of a decision you’ve made. Most of the time, we don’t even pretend that we exist outside of everyone else. Sometimes, though? Ugh.

I follow a few cruisers on Instagram and have been watching their behavior during this pandemic. Countries have closed borders and asked sailors to stay on their boats, to not move around at all. Many, many of the cruisers I consider mentors (even if they don’t know it) are doing their utmost to follow these guidelines/laws. They’re honest about the challenges facing those who opt to live on vessels that need to be mindful of the weather; they’re also totally aware of the fact that their actions may well directly affect not only themselves but those who wish to come behind them.

Heading out to sea on a boat feels anonymous. You sail through a patch of water and look back and there is no indication that you were ever there.

Not so fast. Every time we cruisers go someplace, we’re going as community representatives. Pretty much full stop. Whether it’s fair or not, it’s reality. We’re flying our country flag but also flying the cruiser flag, even if neither is in physical evidence on a shroud. Every action we take is viewed through the lens of cruisers as a whole. We dump trash in the water? So will the cruisers who come behind us. We behave courteously? So will the cruisers who come behind us.

Right now, with countries still closed and lockdowns still happening, there are cruisers who are acting as if they are independent and in a vacuum. They’re not paying attention to the rules and regulations, or worse yet, they’re assuming they don’t apply. How can a boat that’s quarantined for 20 days on a passage possibly carry the virus? I’m one boat, one crew - surely my being there doesn’t matter. Why can’t I swim off the boat? It’s not like the virus exists in the water. This is stupid and I don’t want to. So I won’t. They’re heading to countries that have closed their borders, ignoring restrictions on movement ashore. They’re posting photos of themselves prepping for a passage they shouldn’t be taking, posing on beaches they should not be walking on.

And they may well get away with it. This is infuriating for a number of reasons, not the least of which is the idea that by successfully gaming the system they “inspire” others to do the same.

But as we all learn the long-term ramifications of this virus, one of the biggest ones may well be the semi-permanent curtailing of travel on an independent basis. And the cruisers who are flaunting their utter disregard for the rules that are in place will be the ones making sure nobody else can visit in the future.

None of us, as independent as we want to be, exists in a vacuum. We owe it to ourselves to remember that, even when it’s hard and totally not fun.