Passengers on Grand Princess cruise ship look forward to end of quarantine

A stiff wind blew the hat off Terry Hopkins' head, flung it over a fence and onto the green grass beyond the yard where he and his wife were getting fresh air at Travis Air Force Base in Fairfield, where hundreds like them are being quarantined because of a coronavirus outbreak on a cruise ship.

A Graton resident and retired water department staff member for Santa Rosa, Hopkins opened the gate and stepped onto the grass to fetch his hat when a nearby guard began yelling. Get back inside, the guard ordered, Hopkins recalled. He abandoned his hat and followed orders.

“We feel like we're in prison,” Hopkins, 67, said.

Only about a week earlier, Hopkins and his wife had been celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary with roses and chocolates in their suite aboard the Grand Princess, island hopping in Hawaii. Today, they and thousands of other cruise passengers are in public health purgatory. Their lives are on hold while they remain under government quarantine orders for at least two weeks, although several said they have been told little about the government's plans with them. Staff take their temperatures twice a day to track anyone who might develop the signature fever of COVID-19, the disease caused by the novel coronavirus. Otherwise, several other Sonoma County residents like Hopkins said they do not know when they will be set free. There has been no indication whether they will be tested, several said.

County left uninformed

There are 43 Sonoma County residents at Travis who disembarked from the Grand Princess ship in Oakland over the course of several days last week in a complicated, drawn-out feat orchestrated by the state of California, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention and other agencies. All told, about 2,450 passengers have disembarked from the ship and were bussed to various sites throughout the country to be isolated during the time frame when experts said they could be infectious.

Dr. Sundari Mase, Sonoma County's interim health officer, said that beyond the number of local residents at Travis, the county had been told nothing about who they are, nor has she been informed what protocols are in place to ensure they are safe to return home.

“It will probably be similar (to county protocols), they will be cleared to come back to the community after 14 days,” said Mase, who said she was speculating based on current recommendations. “We will follow them if needed.”

For those trapped on the base, they are engaged in a mind-numbing countdown before they can return home to their normal lives. They are the human subjects in an unprecedented American attempt to stem a public health crisis.

Miscommunication and disorganization seemed rampant in the first days of the operation, resulting in missed medication deliveries, displaced luggage and the loss of simple pleasures. Many said they'd do anything for a cup of coffee. Most said they've learned to stockpile food in case the next meal is delayed. Without access to clean glasses, Hopkins and his wife have been reusing the two paper cups they found for several days.

Yet, all Sonoma County residents interviewed about their experiences are grateful for the kindness of many of the staff and volunteers helping them and, mainly, to be off the ship.

A difficult 3 years

For Carmen Kilcullen, 86, and her husband, Larry, 84, the forced quarantine comes on the heels of a two-year ordeal that began with the 2017 Tubbs fire.

During the firestorm, they were awakened by smoke alarms and escaped through flames destroying their Fountaingrove neighborhood in Santa Rosa. By the time they moved into their rebuilt home last October, Kilcullen had developed a serious medical condition that made her weak and unable to walk for several months. She rebounded and the couple decided to take a cruise to Hawaii in advance of their 60th wedding anniversary this summer.

Kilcullen said she wished the six days they were quarantined on the ship counted toward their time at Travis, but has been told it doesn't.

“That's been part of the frustrating problem. Some things don't seem to fit, you know, like a crossword fits,” Kilcullen said. “What were we doing those six days there (quarantined on the ship)? We didn't see anybody, we didn't talk to anybody. They put the food outside our door.”

They missed the annual fish fry for the Italian Catholic Federation in Healdsburg where Larry Kilcullen usually tends bar. Kilcullen has already finished all the books she brought on the cruise and is moving fast through her big crossword book. Her husband is re-reading the mystery novels he brought. Their daughter had already mailed them a package with needed medications and a fresh stack of magazines and books.

Rural Sebastopol resident Tiffany Essig, 40, is simply relieved to be off the ship and at Travis, where her three children - ages 8, 6 and 1 - can play outside. On the Grand Princess, Essig and her husband, Scott, had to entertain the children and themselves in tight quarters, sneaking between their interior berth and her parents' suite with a balcony, for the five or six days the ship's passengers were ordered to isolate before docking in Oakland.

It seemed the cruise ship operators and the various government entities involved had to constantly alter plans, she said. Her stress level rose during the transition off the ship because she had no way to get food for her three children, and they were hungry.

“I told myself, ‘People endure much harder things than this. My kids are well nourished,'?” Essig said. “Even if they miss a meal, they're going to live.”

‘Quite a little community'

At the base, the Essigs are settled in an apartment. Her parents, Barney and Linda Cargile, have moved into a small apartment elsewhere on the base. Barney Cargile, a pastor with Santa Rosa Christian Church, said he believes the precautions are unnecessary, but he trusts those making the decisions are doing what is best at a time of great uncertainty. Cargile said their living quarters have everything they need and he recalled several moments of serendipitous pause, such as a moment Wednesday when reserves at the base played “The Star-Spangled Banner.” All the quarantined passengers stopped and put their hands over their hearts.

“We developed quite a little community in our apartment buildings,” Cargile said. “It's like we have this shared experience. We're supposed to stay 6 feet apart but no one is carrying a tape measure.”

Essig's two older children were delighted to see their room at the Air Force base, which is an apartment in a small building, immediately claiming their beds and arranging their stuffed animals. They're developing their rhythms for the coming days and have received some advice from the children's teachers on lesson plans.

“I'm so grateful to be off that ship,” Essig said. “There's a lot to be grateful for. We're well for today.”

You can reach Staff Writer Julie Johnson at 707-521-5220 or julie.johnson@pressdemocrat.com. On Twitter @jjpressdem.