The view
By dint of observing, to anticipate, the waves, the horizon, the marine relief... we see things that are sometimes unexpected! For example, turtles or dolphins approaching very close to the boat, or whales, more shy. It can also be less satisfying surprises, such as oil cans, waste which can be dangerous for us... I think we have a better eye at sea than on land! A few days after the start of the Vendée Globe, off Portugal, I had a rather special encounter. The wind was stable and fairly light, the weather very fine and the horizon clear. And in the distance, I saw a small spot that I first thought was a cargo ship. As I got closer, I realized that it was in fact a small pleasure boat. With its skipper, I began a very relaxed discussion over the radio: we chatted like two caretakers! We talked about what we were doing, where we were going... He, a man of a certain age, was crossing the Atlantic single-handed - which is not insignificant on such a small boat! - to get from Portugal to French Guiana. It brightened up my first days of transat this encounter: the fact that I wasn't the only one to set off perhaps... In short, a year later, at the start of the Transat Jacques Vabre, Jean-Pierre, as that was his first name, came over to the boat and left me a little note. I called him back and we saw each other. We got on well and had a warm moment... but it's funny how, face to face, we were almost intimidated by each other... In any case we were much more intimidated than with the sea between us! Seeing each other at sea and on land is really different... We left each other thinking that maybe we'd run into each other again at sea!
The touch
I pay a lot of attention to the boat because it's a part of me. When everything's going well, I give it a little friendly pat on the back. It's a bit like a rider stroking his horse's neck to show him how satisfied he is. I do the same thing when I'm well advanced. And as I'm no doubt a bit of a fetishist, I'm doing this pat in a specific place: where my newborn baby, before the Vendée Globe, gave my boat a little kiss! It's at the back of the cockpit, at the level of the livet, at the junction between the hull and the deck. The surface is rounded, smooth and constantly wet... It's an almost carnal bond, sentimental in any case, that I feel at that moment.
Hearing
I'm awake all the time on board, even at night. I sleep with one ear only, on the lookout for the slightest abnormal behaviour from the boat: a wave pushing it in an unusual way, a peculiar creaking sound... When you're not used to these noises, you can have the impression that everything is going to collapse: the creaking sounds can be so loud and how it sounds in a boat! But there are also more pleasant noises... I remember a particularly pleasant awakening: I was taking a nap in the cabin while the boat was sailing away quietly. And it was the whistling of dolphins just on the other side of the hull that woke me up. They were amplified by the cabin, a real sound box. When I came out, still a little asleep, I saw them all around the boat... and I immediately thought of Flipper the dolphin!
Taste
I mainly eat freeze-dried food when I go shopping. But at Christmas, for me, it's foie gras accompanied by a small bottle of wine! After a month and a half at sea, I feel like I'm entering a gastronomic restaurant... even if I remain confined to my little boat! First, I taste it with a small spoon, with a little olive oil; then I spread it on toast, sometimes even burnt, which finally gives it more taste too. The rest of it is added to the freeze-dried dish that I then eat, which immediately takes on more flavour. It's so good... and it's a morale booster too, because it's out of the ordinary and reminds me of home. Anyway, it's a whole lot of fun!
The sense of smell
It is often said that at sea, you have to "have a nose for the wind" to feel the elements. It's completely true! Sometimes I take off my cap or hood to really feel the environment. For example, during the Route du Rhum, before arriving in Guadeloupe, before reaching Guadeloupe, you pass downwind of the trade winds near the island, and there you can really smell it: smells linked to the tropical vegetation suddenly arrive... And then suddenly leave again, as in this zone the atmosphere is disturbed, and the boat can lie down, before straightening up, and the scents follow the movement. After a fortnight in the middle of the Atlantic, smelling all this, I take a deep breath and I can already imagine myself tasting a chicken combo: it's a really pleasant sensation!
What about fear?
Fear is one of the things that pushes me to take part in the Vendée Globe, as I'm going through moments of extreme fear, moments during which the adrenaline rushes so high... But be careful, it's not a fear that makes me stagger, or makes me snuggle up. On the contrary, it makes me react. Sometimes, I feel it when I make a wrong move. One day, I hoisted a big gennaker... which ended up falling into the water. And there I was doubly afraid: of losing the sail and therefore reducing my future performance; and of seeing a large piece of waste in the sea, a dangerous waste for fish in particular. Of course I tried to get the sail back on board, but I felt that I was just as much at risk of going out with it in the water. Because it's not in these emergency moments of course that you take the appropriate precautions! I wondered then whether I should let go... or not. In the end, no: sometimes we save maneuvers at this price. But it can change so quickly... even in calm weather. You always tell yourself afterwards, when you realise that you were really scared, that "never again", but... This kind of fear is not that rare: during the last Vendée Globe, I felt it three or four times!
