For the next few days we cleaned the yacht and tried to fix all we could since we were allegedly leaving in a few days to cross the Pacific Ocean. Looking back now 6 months later I’m not entirely sure what I did though I vaguely remember hosing down sole plates (floor boards to the landlubbers reading this) and stripping anti-chafe from ropes.
We kept getting distracted because we were watching the news while conducting maintenance. It became quickly apparent that the world was going pear-shaped…quickly. Rumor and speculation were the orders of the day. Would the race continue? Would they cancel it? Could we get out of the Philippines? We’re we destined to live our lives tied to the pontoon awaiting San Miguel Beer and Pizza to be delivered from the yacht club restaurant?
A feeling of dread and disappointment spread over the pontoon. I think we all knew that we weren’t going to complete this leg of the race but nothing official had been transmitted. We carried on cleaning the boats but our hearts weren’t in it. We knew the race was over.
Eventually Sir Robin made the announcement. All crews gathered on their respective decks as each skipper read a message that said the race was postponed for 10 months and we needed to leave. Suddenly the scrabble was on. Phones appeared and everyone frantically searched for airline tickets, I managed to fine a flight the next day from Manila to Dubai to Seattle. While this flight was extraordinarily long, it avoided Taiwan and Hong Kong which were hot spots for COVID-19 and increased the chance of my making it to Seattle with little delay.
The following morning about 1/3 of the race crew from all boats met at the front of the yacht club for transport to Manila airport. It was a very strange environment. On the one hand we were happy to have a plan to get home. On the other hand we were leaving the race unfinished. Skipper Dave was there to see us off and he definitely did not seem his usual self. It reminded me that in all the excitement to get out of Subic Bay before we were stuck, we were leaving something really special. Our crew had started to gel and we were expecting to take on the challenge of our lives which was suddenly interrupted. While I was disappointed and excited at the same time, it must have really sucked from Skipper Dave’s point of view. He had worked to build a team and was probably a little hopeful about us, when we were snatched out from under him. It takes a lot of effort to build a functioning team and I’m guessing he was seriously disappointed to have his efforts cast away.
Eventually a convoy of minivans showed up and we all piled aboard. My initial ride from Manila to Subic Bay had taken a couple hours but this ride became quite an odyssey. We went through various small towns and were stopped by police every quarter mile or so it seemed. Each time one of the cops would open the doors and take our temperature with an infrared meat thermometer.
As we neared Manila the checkpoints became more frequent and the authorities became more heavily armed. It went from local police to national police, to the army. As the weaponry increased, the level of humor decreased. Our behavior changed in accordance with the mood at each checkpoint.
Eventually we made it to Manila international airport. However, we were there to early to check in so I and a few others had to sit in the ticketing area with all of our kit. Whilst waiting around for 5 hours I met up with John Dillon, a Brit from Team UNICEF. We buddied up and took turns watching each others’ luggage trolley. As there were only 2 restaurants open in the airport, he sprung for a bucket of chicken from Jollibee. I must say, that was damn good chicken.
After what seemed like an eternity we were finally able to check in, drop our luggage, and head to the gate. We then spent a couple hours in the business lounge courtesy of Seattle crewmate Lord David MacDonald and eventually boarded Emirates Air to Dubai for the first of 2 legs home.
Going “wheels up” in Manila was bittersweet. I was happy to be headed home to Stacey and Lauren and also incredibly sad. This adventure was 3 years in the making. I had worked countless hours of overtime to pay for it and it had consumed my life and that of my family. To have it end like this was incredibly disappointing and still feels like unfinished business. I was supposed to step off the dock in Seattle having crossed the world’s largest ocean to be smothered in the embrace of my wife and daughter, not skulk through Customs as just another tourist. I was supposed to tell sea stories that thrilled all, not listen to everyone complain about a pandemic. This was a major letdown.
So now what??????
Journey to Cross the Pacific 