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december 15, 2023 : I'm on the RER in Paris to go to the dentist, one last cavity to treat before leaving. Realization? This time tomorrow, I'll be arriving on the island of Sal in Cape Verde. My stomach hurts, my sciatic nerve keeps throwing me despite my infiltration 3 days ago. I'm not sure what to think. Is this pain a sign or a test? Do I have to go through it? What I do know is that I need to be on the move.
I'm going to meet up with my boat Hateva, which is waiting for me at anchor in Cape Verde, where I'll be in the sun in a place I know, and above all seeing people I know again. Flo is still in Sal, Marion should be in Mindelo. There's something reassuring about knowing where I'm going and what I'll find.
I think what scares me most about this crossing is that I'm running out of options. Once the boat is at sea, there's no turning back. In my other adventures, I always had a choice. In Australia, I could stop by bike, take the train or hitchhike. With my truck, in winter at -20°, I could rent a warm room. This time, in this solo transatlantic race, I have no plan B. This commitment is my big difficulty, but it's also what makes this whole adventure. I'm reaching the next level of my comfort zone.
Writing it today reassures me and reminds me that this is what I really want, to get out of my comfort zone, to go further in my self-knowledge. What's the point of living if you don't know yourself? To feel alive? I feel alive today, it's not pleasant at the moment, but my experience tells me that this is the right path, that the pleasure of living will be multiplied!
Arrival in sight of Hateya
december 16, 2023 : " Descending for arrival in Cape Verde, please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts. "
I imagine my arrival: go through customs, see if I can get a new sim card with datas, leave the airport, walk 15 min to Espargos, find some vegetables, take the small street on the left to find the collective cab, wait until there are enough people to leave, do the 5 km pay 0.50 ? to the driver, walk to the fishing port, find a way to get to Hateya.
I'm a bit scared to find Hateya. I haven't seen my boat for 9 months. What's it going to be like? Will there be an invasion of cockroaches, or will the wooden mast rot like in Lanzarote? Will the food still be good despite the heat? Will the fresh water be rotten? Will the diesel be full of bacteria? And will the batteries still be in good condition? There are so many things that could prevent the engine from starting...
I didn't immediately figure out how to walk the last 200 m between the beach and my boat anchored in the bay. So I went to eat at the Rotterdam, which serves good fish. There were some tenders lying around on the beach, but no one in sight to use them. I go up to the fishermen and ask if they can give me a lift: " OK, but for ?5. "
4:30 later: I climb aboard. Hateya is there, faithful. The locks have trouble turning, but with a little patience they eventually open. The interior is covered with a layer of sand dust. There are often sandstorms here. Small dead animals are here and there. But there's no sign of a break-in - everything's there. I switch the electrical system back on, check the engine and start it on the first try. Everything's OK! That's a relief. The only downside is my backache, which reappeared on the plane. I'll see what happens in the next few days...
I send a photo to friends and family to let them know I've arrived safely and that everything is fine. Then I start cleaning up, putting things back in their place. I'm not feeling very motivated and I take a nap. I wonder what I'm doing here...
Being alone highlights the help I've had to start each adventure. The first day I set off from Cairns on my bike, with 3,000 km ahead of me, I was scared. Without telling her, Laure's presence was very reassuring and encouraging. The same goes for all the times Aline helped me navigate. Particularly when we had to dock in Agadir after a storm. On arrival, I wanted to sell the boat and never set foot on it again. Thanks to Aline's support, I was able to set sail again a few days later.
But this time, I'm on my own, I've got to find the motivation myself, I know the hardest part will be pulling up the anchor and throwing myself into the unknown. In the meantime, I'll have to do all the tasks to get the boat ready, one after the other. Fortunately, since I've been sailing on Hateya, I know them all by heart.
Climb the mast, refit the 3 headsail halyards, the two outrigger toggles, the two mainsail halyards with sheaves, check the mast lights (I know there's a problem), antennae, stay and shroud fastenings...
Climb back down, install all the pulleys, sheets, furling line, Windpilot windvane gear, dodgers to protect me from the spray. Then install the sails, the furling ones, the mainsail with all its automatic reefing system. Clean the propeller, hull, chain and anchor of seaweed and shellfish. Reconnect the AIS, VHF and electric autopilot. And a whole lot more...
Preparing to anchor
december 18, 2023 : It's been a fruitful day: Flo, my neighbor on the boat, came to help me this morning to put the halyard on the horn, which has a rather special pulley system that requires two people, one at the top of the mast and the other at the bottom, to pass the pulleys and send them back. We were also able to fit the headsail, which is on a furler, as it's really complicated to do alone.
Flo has been here for 4 years and lives on her 9.50 m sailboat at anchor. Here she was headmistress of a French school for 3 years. Now she's living off her savings and trying to set up a restaurant with a Senegalese woman, specializing in smoked fish. She's currently testing how to smoke it with the island's resources (there are hardly any trees here). She'll be returning to La Réunion at the end of March to see her family and work before coming back to Brazil with her boat.
The rest of the day was also productive, as work soothes the brain, which then stops thinking. I'm starting to live with the sun again, no need to look at the clock!
My routine for the week will be: rise with the sun, back exercises, boat activities and, when it's too hot or hungry, food, rest, screens, then back to boat activities... Swimming when it's still warm, then when the sun goes down, writing, eating, reading, and finally sleeping.
I'm also watching the weather. If it holds, I'll have to change islands, going to Sal in Mindelo on Friday morning 22nd with a steady 15 knot wind gusting to 25 during the day, and 12 to 19 knots at night with a 2.50 m swell every 8 sec. The trip should take 24 hours.
The pleasure of being on board your boat
december 19, 2023 : I regain my motivation, Hateya is almost ready. I feel that it's possible, that it's for this time. I've been waiting for this for years, the last 4 having to postpone the start for various reasons. But this is the year!
Pauline asked me what motivated me to cross the Atlantic? I told her it was a long-held dream, born of my cycling trip to Australia. A fantasy of total freedom. But also the goal of surpassing myself.
I didn't know much about sailing before I got into it. I've learned so many things, both sailing and onboard DIY. I've learned to weld, paint, varnish, rig a boat from top to bottom, install electrical and electronic equipment, repair my wooden mast, do mechanical work, adjust a stuffing box, understand and install a Windpilot, adjust a compass with a magnetism compensator, treat the rust of course on this steel hull... But also understanding the weather, reading nautical charts, astrological navigation and everything else I learned on the pontoons or during my Yacht Master training...
I don't need to do the Transat to consider myself a good sailor, but I do know that I'll be able to use all my knowledge during these 3 weeks and enjoy it. Tears come to my eyes when I realize how far I've come.
december 21, 2023 : I'm so excited! The boat is almost ready, all my big problems are solved (autopilot problem, mast lights...). I've even managed to install that damn seawater foot pump, which should save me a lot of fresh water on board.
I'm planning to leave for Mindelo on Tuesday to stock up on food and water. There's not enough choice here and I'd like to see this town again before leaving.
Accounts not to be missed
december 22, 2023 : I'm making some calculations today: there are still around 2000 miles to go, or 3600 km. I've already got 40 days' worth of good food bought in the Canaries, 15 days' worth of my own lacto-fermented pot, 64 days' worth of ready-made "stuff bof" from Carrefour, and I'm going to buy 30 days' worth of fresh produce without being sure of the preservation result, as I don't have a fridge on board. Even if I do know some good preservation techniques.
That gives us a total of 151 days' reserve. I think that'll be enough.
For water, I have 150 l divided between two tanks, with a further 100 l in cans. I have a rainwater collector and two freshwater filters. Drinking 2 l a day, I have 50 days ahead of me using only my cans. That gives me plenty to look forward to.
For power, I have a fixed 50W solar panel plus a mobile 50W one. They charge 4 batteries of 100 ah (2 motors/2 auxiliaries). I also have 80 l of diesel, with an engine consumption of 1.3 l/h. The 80Ah alternator (960W) will take 61 h to recharge the batteries (1h30 / day if there isn't enough charge from the solar panels during navigation). So the diesel will last me 40 days.
december 23, 2023 : I went shopping for Christmas dinner. I found carrots, tomatoes, zucchini, squash, papaya, chips and peanuts in a small grocery store run by Chinese people, all for around ?14.
I took the opportunity to fill two 5-liter cans with filtered drinking water from a retailer who has installed a tank with lots of filters so that I can drink the desalinated water produced on the island. It costs ?1.70 for 10 l. I think it's very good. This system is a great step towards reducing the number of plastic bottles here...
december 26, 2023 : I go for a jog to take advantage of the dry land. I take the opportunity to collect the boat's papers from the police. I also finish filling up with water, carrying 100 l in cans aboard my canoe.
I also meet a French crew. It's the first one since I arrived. We have dinner ashore. For me, it's a fried moray eel. Then it's time to say goodbye to my friends from Sal. I realize I'm leaving. An irrational feeling of fear overcomes me. Before me, solitude, darkness, the sea.
Between the islands of Cape Verde
december 27, 2023 : This morning, the anchor was hauled up and the sails hoisted. Mainsail first, then genoa and staysail. The wind is 15 knots and the swell 1.50 m on the beam. The weather was fine, with no clouds, and the barometer at 1015 hPa. Good conditions for this 118-mile trip.
12:30, after 1h30 of sailing, the boat is making 3.7 knots. I hope to go faster so as not to arrive in Mindelo at night, as there are many wrecks not indicated on the charts. The mood is stable and serene, no particular excitement, I've got my automatisms back, everything's pretty mechanical. Some dolphins came by to see what was going on and I crossed a large strip of Sargassum, some of which clung to my regulator, which I removed with my boat hook.
I feel like an aviator, flying over beautiful mountains, but the clouds prevent me from seeing them. Luckily, birds and dolphins remind me that there's life under "my clouds".
Night falls and seasickness sets in... I vomit my meal. Tonight I'm going to wake up every 1h30 to check the course and what's going on. But nothing happens. I just saw a boat in the distance and, as predicted by the weather forecast, the wind shifted and I had to alter my course.
december 28, 2023 : Dolphins came to see me and gave me some great jumps. It seems that wild dolphins have learned this from their fellow dolphins in amusement parks. Scientists can't really explain it, just a collective consciousness a priori.
The wind has died down and I'll never get to Mindelo by nightfall. It's a good thing I've been here before. Finally, I arrive at 7 p.m. in the dark, as the moon has not yet risen. I zigzag between the boats at anchor and find myself a place. I don't feel like going to port tonight, so I stay at anchor for the night.
Mindelo, final preparations
december 29, 2023 : In the morning, I pull up my anchor and realize it's caught on a chain. I tell my anchor mate, who jumps into his dinghy to help me. He unties me and I head for the harbor. I'm happy to see that I haven't lost my touch!
Arriving at the customs office, I learn that they're closing tonight until January 3rd... I decide to enter and leave Mindelo at the same time, as it would be a real shame to lose time for my transatlantic crossing because of paperwork...
A little swim to celebrate! Back at the boat, the first boat-hunting crew pass by and we chat. Everyone's talking to each other here, and it's nice to have this transatlantic preparation atmosphere. But soon it will be time to leave.
december 31, 2023 : While waiting to cast off, I make the final preparations: cleaning, tidying, final adjustments. I also buy food:
- 2 kg carrots
- 2 kg lemon
- 2 kg orange
- 3 kg squash
- 2 kg apple
- 3 kg tomatoes
- 3 kg green bananas.
- 20 eggs
- 2 chorizos
- 3 kg cabbage
- Coriander
- Basil
Here's what I need fresh for at least 15 days. All at different ripenesses, stored in the direction of growth and protected from light.
The weather forecast looks good for the next 10 days. Even if it's not exact, it gives a good trend and the tendency is for stable trade winds of 15 to 23 kts in the right direction. I'm imagining setting my two headsails in pitching scissors and not using the mainsail.
I have 3 waypoints in my GPS: one to get out of Cape Verde without being bothered by the mountains which stop the wind, one in the middle of the Atlantic a little to the south to stay downwind as much as possible, towards this point the wind generally splits in two, one part to the north-west and one to the south-west, it's at this point that I hope to change course towards my last point, Martinique and the anse St-Anne, or the port of Le Marin depending on the mood and time of arrival.
Here in Mindelo, I met a young couple, Danaé and Clément, who have been boat stoppers for two months. Danaé is a masseuse and naturopath, and Clément a journalist and writer. They helped me by going to the top of my mast to repair my lazy jack, and were able to test the view from up there.
Last check of the boat, everything's fine until I look at the windvane gear. The weld I'd had redone has failed. This part fixes the governor to the boat. And this governor is the most important piece of equipment for making the crossing. To repair, I try to drill the stainless steel tube, but I break my drill bit. I search my spare parts. I try several, but without success. I get out the grinder to adapt one so I can use it. Finally, as night falls and I can't see anything, I stop the repair. I join Danaé and Clément to celebrate the last evening of 2023.
Off we go!
january 1, 2024 : I went to bed at 2 and the music stopped at 8. I get up, do my exercises and see if the modified room will fit. It looks like it will. I go for a 5 km run to see the city for the last time, with a shower and beard trimming on the agenda. Fixing my part to the regulator goes well. Everything's in order. I have lunch before filling the boat's water tanks. It smells like departure. Since this morning, a boat has been leaving every 30 minutes or so.
The sea is calm. I prepare my sails before a final trip to the toilet and the return of the marina map. Clément and Danaé join me. They help me cast off, and Hateya steps back and swivels on his own. Danaé calls out "J i've never seen such a beautiful start! "It's a pleasure. One last wave and off we go...
Hateya and I leave the harbor. I stow all the mooring lines and fenders. I hoist the genoa. I look behind me and a strong emotion arrives with a few tears. A boat, then two, then three, passes me... I tell myself that they'll think it's weird that I didn't put up my mainsail, but I realize that everyone else did. Sometimes I still doubt my ability as a sailor.
Once away from the coast, I set up downwind and adjust the windvane gear. I pitch the genoa and unfurl the second, which I also pitch. The wind and swell push me along. The boat is sailing at 5 knots!
Course 230° for 50 miles, so I don't have to pass under Santo-Antao, where there's no wind because of the mountains. I put on some music, eat chocolate cereal bars and an apple. I can see the coastline slowly receding.
