Obelix in Terra Incognita

Covid-19 lockdown – Day 0

After navigating in troubled waters for the last few weeks, witnessing from afar one country after the other placed under lockdown, it is our turn to set foot in Terra Incognita, a foreign world where we can’t hug or kiss or dance with our friends to celebrate life, with no idea of the impact it will have on our physical and psychological wellbeing, nor how to mitigate this yet unknown impact.

I reassure myself that as foreigners we have an advantage, having been through the challenge already, of having to adapt quickly to a new environment, learn new social rules, and find a way to blend in, or even thrive.

However, we’re both curious and fearful about what we’ll discover in this brave new world and questions abound:

What lesson will governments draw from this global-scale human experience? Is it time to hypocritically buy Air New Zealand shares or should we bet and invest on a company committed to a more positive redesign of our society? Will we be able to wander on the dinghy to go fishing off the break water? Do we have enough supply to last for the self-isolation period? Or will we need to replenish stock and venture to the supermarket? And if we have to go, will there still be what we need which was depleted when we stocked up? Will they increase their prices to take advantage of the situation? Should we sail away and wait for it to pass (looks like a no as we would not be able to work and Thomas is way too loyal and committed to Gurit)? Will the marina Wifi allow us to work from the boat (not as it is so I’ve just ordered a repeater to hopefully alleviate the painful intermittence of the weak wifi signal, and Thomas used his mobile phone as a hotspot for part of the day)? How many hours of work can we honestly achieve with two wild animals boys on board (I have brought my hours down to a more reasonable 16 per week at the end of today)? How changed will we be on the other side? Who will blow a fuse first (I would have bet on me initially, but with my now reduced-hours, might reconsider and say Zephyr)? Will liveaboards be allowed in the common facilities like toilets, shower, and laundry (answer came earlier today – No, the bathroom blocks will be locked)? Great, how will we do the laundry then, let alone shower??? How many liveaboards will be around anyway*? But above all, HOW LONG will it truly last for?

On a positive note, Azur woke up this morning announcing happily “first day of school on the boat!” and the home-schooling quickly turned into “self-schooling” following a schedule we had prepared together the evening before, and which, although not respected to the letter, provided a good beacon to see us through the day. The kids particularly enjoyed climbing up the mast between two showers, doing ‘hard’ (as opposed to boring) maths, with Zephyr explaining powers and square roots to Azur, building huts in the V-berth, playing soccer with a volleyball in the saloon corridor, and, with a bit of persuasion, dressing up for a photoshoot at sunset (cf. top pictures). We’re betting hard on our creativity to endurejoy this weird, forced, ‘recentering’ retreat, and take it as a good practice exercise for an ocean crossing…

And speaking of sailing, I’m so glad we took Obelix for a wander in the gulf last week-end and intently savoured the dizzying freedom bliss before this whole madness. Although the lunch in Calypso Bay, our swim in crystal clear water, our walk in the bush with Tuis carelessly serenading us, our swinging under a big Pohutukawa tree on the white sandy beach of Snapper Bay, our 3-star dinner with fellow sailors in Blackpool, our morning yoga session on the deck, followed by our diving off the boat and sailing back to Bayswater all seem a long way away, they are memories we will hold onto tight until we’re on the other side.

*I overheard a discussion between Zephyr and Azur this evening speaking about our pier neighbour Carmen: Azur sadly commented “she’s living in a house now, so that’s the end of the world” to which Zephyr placidly replied “at least the end of the world as we know it”, and I silently thought “If only!”…

So fear not for us, but feel free to leave a comment, would love to know how everyone is doing 😊

9 comments

  1. Ce n’est pas le moment d’aller à l’hôpital. Zephyr pourrait peut-être rester à une hauteur raisonnable. Vous connaissez mes appréhensions. Il me semble qu’il y a déjà eu des chutes avec conséquences. …….
    Bisous et bon confinement merci encore pour ce partage bien agréable

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  2. Awesome blog Salome! Thanks for providing us with this little window into your family’s rather unique experiences on Obelix. Always encouraging and inspirational. Wishing you lots of love as we all go into hibernation for a while 🤗💜💐👍

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  3. Ouais ben moi j’ai même pas pu lire ton article sans interruption, donc t’es plutôt forte d’avoir réussi à l’écrire ! J’ai trouvé que le plus dur aujourd’hui c’était de mettre les enfants devant des programmes éducatifs chacun sur un ordi. Entre les soucis de connexion, les “moi je veux faire du Lalilo aussi”, les clarifications d’instructions, la tétée en plein milieu, j’ai trouvé que l’espoir que j’avais d’avoir 30 minutes tranquilles s’est évaporé bien trop vite. Sans compter que nos enfants sur les ordis s’énervent vite (c’est génétique : moi aussi). Au moins quand c’est moi la maîtresse et qu’on fait des exercices classiques mon temps est mieux utilisé ! Sinon les laveries automatiques sont répertoriées en “essential services” donc ils sont pas très malins à Bayswater…

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    • Oui on devra aller à Belmont pour les machines ou s’arranger avec des amis qui en ont une. Et pour occuper les enfants, pour le moment on évite les écrans en espérant stimuler leur imagination pour s’éduquer et se divertir. Et on galère tellement avec la connexion et le manque de place pour caser tout le monde devant des ordinateurs. Pour le moment ils ne réclament pas. Pourvu que ça dure!!!

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  4. Nous on a fait le premier point par relèvements de la traversée, à midi. L’évier au 355°, le frigo au 335° et les legos au 105°. Ce qui nous positionnait à peu près au niveau de la table.

    C’est fou qu’ils aient fermé les sanitaires … y a quand même du monde qui vit à Bayswater, non?

    See you at the other end!

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