Time acts like a still. It distills memories and softens the recollection of logistical difficulties, mishaps at sea, and short-lived anxieties. What remains is the scent of sensations from the ocean and the quintessence of our favorite memories from the trip. After six months of settling back on dry land, here is my perception of what we loved during our Atlantic circuit aboard Yumelo, the Neel 43 we chartered for ten months.
Out at Sea
We loved being at sea. Sailing, crossing the ocean and confronting its vastness, experiencing the feeling of infinity inspired by its immensity, and the perspective of a circular horizon, unattainable by nature.
We loved becoming one with Yumelo: swaying to the gradually familiar undulations and jolts of the ocean, feeling its hectic movements. The harmonious rhythm of our days, the boat’s throbbing movements and the soporific tempo of our nights. We loved rocking, rolling, dancing and testing our balance against the swaying swell.
We loved being attentive to Neptune’s whims, to the slightest breaths of Aeolus. Feeling the sea breeze as it brushed or whipped our faces, anticipating its mood swings and living in tune with the fluctuating rhythm of this blue waterscape, often docile, sometimes hostile.
We loved the ever-present salt, which envelops, irritates, and yet evokes nostalgia for the seaside of our childhood.
We loved the ballet of the stars, when the last rays of daylight fade behind the horizon. When the moon makes a spectacular red appearance and then evaporates into a halo and when the sea sparkles at sunrise, glitters at its zenith, and glows red at sunset. We loved this panoramic and versatile technicolor daily life.
The sky darkens, the wind no longer blows, it whistles (Force 7-8). The waves are no longer green hills and valleys but resemble snow-capped peaks. There is electricity in the air, but also humility, as Yumelo rears up: we have reduced sail, borne away downwind, fleeing. The crew, united, mobilizes and redoubles its vigilance to face the suddenly belligerent elements. We take these passing storms as a reminder, an injunction not to neglect or underestimate the powerful impetuosity of our host, despite the adrenaline we feel.
Then, after the squall had moved on to other horizons, after the storm had gone to electrify other parts of the sea, after the front had moved on to other battles, we enjoyed the renewed freedom, the gentle trade winds, the benevolent breeze that blew sparingly once more. We hoisted the spinnaker once more.
Identifying the Marine Life
From Yumelo, from the height of our freeboard, we enjoyed trying to identify the abundance of the marine universe, detecting the clues that emerged from its depths. Here, an iridescent, translucent Mermaid’s Wine Glass carried away by the current; there, a school of flying fish trying to escape their eager predators; here, a sunfish or a weightless sea turtle swimming between two bodies of water; here again, an army of speedy hunters scouring the sea in pursuit of their prey; and there, thousands of microscopic organisms set in motion, in dust and light, by the wake of the multihull... All evidence of the richness of an ecosystem of which we were, for the duration of our voyage, foreign bodies, privileged observers of its fascinating life.
Then, with a flick of their fins, a pod of dolphins came to tease the bow of the trimaran, offering us front-row seats for their agility show, splashing us with their virtuosity and their articulate curiosity. We loved these impromptu ballets, the mischievous gaze of these cetaceans and the presumptuous feeling of affinity we felt at that moment.
Preceded by the geyser of its exhalation, His Majesty the Whale, gleaming and imposing, makes a stop at the surface. We take advantage of this fleeting favor, this moment suspended in its paradoxically fluid movements, in the graceful gait of its massive body, before it greets us with an elegant tail slap and disappears into other abysses. We loved encountering these legendary giants, placid and magnanimous.
Then a fin, like a sharp sickle tearing through the ocean’s surface, announces an ominous presence: a hammerhead shark passes by. Mythical, it makes quite an impression!
Enticed by the small fry scared away by the bow of the boat, a squadron of terns circled in front of the bow, on the lookout for unwary flying fish preferring the hammer to the anvil.
We loved the graceful flight of the birds, which, carried by the rising breeze from the genoa, soared nonchalantly, giving the impression of hovering above the boat before diving towards their target.
Night Sailing
Alone in the night, a tiny part of a complex crew, I watch over the boat, ensuring it runs smoothly and everyone stays safe. Conscientiously, I keep watch: I observe the crests of the waves, their silvery reflections, the phosphorescent wake of the hulls, and I gaze at the starry dome, dazzled by a myriad of sparkles. I am amazed by this milky immensity that reveals itself with the darkness. I am a particle of the universe, I feel alive, overcome by a feeling of absolute fulfilment, heightened tonight by John Surman’s song Portrait of a Romantic. Then, as time stretches out, a slight drowsiness sets in, trying to subvert my vigilance. I take action to curb it: I adjust the course, I trim the sails. I wait for the relief crew while updating the logbook, as if it were a ritual. I record the actions of Aeolus and Neptune, the boat’s speed, the little incidents of my watch and the navigation instructions. Finally, with delicacy and firmness, I wake up my crewmate (the firmness being directly proportional to the crewmate’s ability to escape their torpor and emerge into this unstable environment). We quickly discuss the weather, Yumelo’s settings, past events, future prospects, the course or angle to the wind to maintain... Sometimes we take advantage of this transition to work together to take in a reef, or gybe or tack. Then we look at the sky and share our fascination.
We enjoyed going back to bed after two or three hours on watch, with a sense of accomplishment, delight and serenity, and falling back into a deep sleep, oblivious to the rocking of the boat.
We loved the atmosphere of these night-time voyages, the paradoxical feeling of solitude that it engenders and acts as a sensory enhancer, the impression that the ocean and the cosmos intertwine and swallow us up.
We loved the tacit solidarity that night sailing imposes and the mutual trust between crew members, the hushed intimacy that sets in during watch changes and the simple idea of sailing through the night.
Travelling and Arriving by Sea
After a slow journey at sea, we enjoyed contemplating the prospect of an island, sniffing the land that first reveals itself through its smells before revealing its shapes and the shadows of its landscapes. Arriving somewhere, then treading new ground, feeling the atmosphere of a port, the ambiance of a city, guessing at the wealth of the people here and going out to meet them.
After rolling up the genoa, lowering the mainsail and starting the engine, we entered the bay from the south, as recommended by the pilot book. We were not alone: the presence of several other sailboats thwarted our Robinson Crusoe aspirations but reassured us of the quality of protection offered by the shelter. As we slowly motor towards the center of the bay, with feathered prop, we discover the topology of the site, the geometry of the anchorage, the backyards implicitly claimed by their ephemeral occupants. A reconnaissance tour allows us to assess the space between the boats, confirm the water depth and the quality of the seabed: we will aim for the turquoise areas, which indicate sandy bottoms. We decide to drop anchor behind a gray ketch. Everyone knows their role, and the choreography of anchoring can begin.
What an exquisite essence of our journey it is to arrive by sea and find refuge and a place to relax! We loved tracking down and discovering these little corners of paradise, wild havens and inviting coves, and staying there for a short stopover, privileged guests of a natural palace where everything appears to be all order and beauty, luxury, calm and voluptuousness.
At the mercy of the wind and the current, Yumelo found her place in the orderly jumble of the anchorage. Straight ahead, within swimming distance, the gleaming shore beckons us: so we organize our disembarkation. We loved landing, feeling the rebellious ground struggling beneath our feet, now accustomed to the sea, the slight intoxication caused by the rolling of this land, less firm than it appears. Conquerors and explorers of straw huts and trinkets, we quickly set our sights (and our throats) on the beach bar and enjoyed sitting facing the sea, contemplating a different view while savoring the first sip of beer or the local rum-based drink.
Accompanied by a certified guide, accredited and financed by us, the willing tourists, we set off to discover the promised splendors of the island. Beyond the lush forests, cascading waterfalls, colorful rocks, golden dunes, vertiginous viewpoints and all these natural and cultural treasures, we enjoyed learning about the history of the island, its inhabitants and their ancestors through our guide.
We loved the ultimate luxury of jumping into the water from Yumelo and enjoying this unique environment. We loved diving, swimming around our boat as though it was ours, equipped with masks and snorkels, transforming ourselves into flippered observers, mesmerized by the prodigiously colorful flora and fauna. We were spectators of the teeming life, social effervescence and dramas unfolding in this giant aquarium. Around a patch of sea grass, a green and silver turtle takes flight and tacitly urges us to follow its elegant quest for atmosphere from a distance. We loved contemplating this tetrapod animal of timeless refinement, never tiring of its comings and goings, its apparent affability.
Finally, we enjoyed thinking about weighing anchor, extending our journey, expanding time, setting sail again, being carried by the waves, and sailing once more on the ocean of possibilities!
Socializing
We love the social interaction and the spontaneous bonds that form between nomadic sailors. Simply, without pretense, at the corner of a pontoon, between neighbors on the shore, a tacit understanding arises from our shared openness, our goals and our passions. We loved these encounters, these fragments of brotherhood, of sincere friendship, sometimes lasting but often fleeting, which are the real treasure of our journey.
We loved the implicit solidarity that exists between sea wanderers. In addition to sharing experiences, skills and little bits of confidential information, we loved the philosophy of mutual aid, which everyone espouses and potentially practices:
“Channel 72. Anakao, Anakao calling Yumelo, Yumelo”...
We enjoyed sailing together with Anne and François, planning our meetings, bumping into each other by chance, exploring new shores together. Sharing our feelings, our impressions of the trip, our routing options, our passing friends. From crew to crew, with your cheerful mood, your enthusiasm, your experience, your appetite, you contributed to Yumelo’s journey and enhanced its flavor. We love the web of shared memories woven along the way, idyllic paradises, ocean crossings... and exotic drinks!
And Then Back Home…
“Happy as Odysseus, after a long journey”... We enjoyed planning our landing, imagining a future without salt and making a random list of all the good reasons to rejoice at our return to land:
- Seeing our loved ones again: our friends, our parents, our children,
- Smelling the scent of the Mediterranean scrubland intensified by the warm soil of Provence,
- Going to buy our baguette at the local bakery,
- Planning a trip to the cinema, the theatre or a concert,
- Delegating the washing of clothes and dishes to machines,
- No longer worrying about the predicted strength of the waves and winds,
- Enjoying a peaceful sleep, without untimely and suspicious noises, without alarms, without pitching and rolling, -
- ... Dreaming of other voyages, other shores!
