Sailing
On the ocean with the winner of the Route du Rhum 2022
6 days, 19 hours, 47 minutes and 25 seconds of sailing: Charles Caudrelier has broken the record for the legendary transatlantic race. We followed the French sailor during the race.
Making himself forget what seemed like the most important thing in the world only seconds ago. Sleeping while his boat sails at 70 km/h on the waves. This is how 48-year-old Charles Caudrelier succeeded in sailing from France to the Caribbean and became the winner and record holder of the legendary Route du Rhum. One man, one boat, one week – a great transatlantic thrill. We met him at the start of the race...
"It's hell out there," says a red-eyed Charles Caudrelier to the camera on his racing boat, somewhere on the Atlantic between Europe and Central America. Looking left and right, the 48-year-old Frenchman checks the conditions from horizon to horizon: "I should finally go back to sleep! But every time I want to lie down, a new gust of more than 50 km/h crashes into the sails.”
Caudrelier’s boat flies over the waves at top speeds of over 90 km/h. "I'm trying to slow the boat down rather than speed it up," says the skipper, "but it's almost impossible to do.” The most prestigious single-handed transatlantic race in the world, all boats are sailing at full capacity on the Route du Rhum. With one crew member on board, they sail non-stop, day and night to cover the 6560 kilometres from Saint-Malo to Point-à-Pitre in Guadeloupe in the Caribbean.
This is already a major challenge with traditional boats, but the boat helmed by Caudrelier takes ocean racing to a whole new level. A 32-metre long and 23-metre-wide trimaran named the "Maxi Edmond de Rothschild", this boat became a record breaker in 2018 when its team dared to attempt the sail with foils. No one had thought it possible until that moment that ocean racing boats on foils could withstand the forces of nature, especially the demands of high waves. And certainly not for days or weeks.
"You can't imagine the forces that act against this boat," says Caudrelier in an interview with The Red Bulletin in the port of Saint Malo a few days before the start. "The size of the boat, its huge dimensions are reflected in how it sails. Small mistakes in manoeuvres can be instantly fatal and any physical activity easily becomes a painful ordeal.
The mast alone is over 37 metres high. To hoist the main sail, Charles needs three quarters of an hour. Reefing, or reducing the sail area, which is usually a matter of minutes, takes more than a quarter of an hour. In total, the Frenchman is steering more than 660 square metres of sail. The covered cockpit, Caudrelier's living space for the seven days of the regatta, is littered with countless ropes of different colours and thicknesses, as well as clamps to secure them, two steering wheels, one on the left and one on the right, thigh-high drums with cranks on which the lines are wound to bring them back, and a multitude of displays showing speed, wind data and other navigation information. In the middle of it all is Charles' control seat, an ultra-comfortable monster the size of a TV presenter's chair, from which the sailing professional not only has everything in front of him, but from which he can reach all the control elements in no time – and most importantly, switch the power of the boat on and off.
Who steers the boat when you're napping, Charles?
The automatic pilot.
Where does it get its power? Do the batteries have to be drained at some point?
We have the right to start the engine to produce electricity and keep it running. Of course, we are not allowed to propel the boat. That is why the drive shaft is sealed.
Exactly how many ropes do you check?
I've never counted it. But I do know one thing: in total, there are several kilometres running across the deck and through the rigging (structures for sailing). They are all operated by hand. Each manoeuvre therefore takes time. Caution is particularly important on this boat. If you see a dark cloud on the horizon, you must react instantly.
It's a shame if that's when you're asleep...
That's my biggest challenge. Solo racing on the high seas is probably the only sport where you have to lie down and sleep in full race mode, i.e. in full rush, when there is no one else on board to control the situation.
To achieve this, this sailing professional learned to freedive.
When talking about Arnaud Jerald, Charles Caudrelier's eyes light up: "This guy is half my age, but he has a maturity that is fascinating. He has taught me some incredible things.” Jerald, a 26-year-old from France, is the reigning world champion in scuba diving. In August, he set a new world record in the Bahamas. Diving 120 metres into the depths, he held his breath three minutes and 35 seconds, until his head broke through the surface of the sea again. It was during this time, and especially just before he came back up for breath, that a miracle occurred that enabled Jerald to achieve such a feat.
Arnaud has mastered the art of forgetting everything around him on command," says Charles Caudrelier, "of placing his thoughts entirely at the centre of himself, reducing his cerebral and bodily functions to a minimum, and of maintaining this state even when he sinks into the depths of the sea. I absolutely wanted to be able to do that too.” So, Caudrelier trained with Jerald and eventually managed to reach a depth of 30 metres without breathing.
How does it work?
Before entering the dive, you concentrate on your breathing, you breathe consciously, you support yourself in this process with the body posture. You scan yourself internally from the top of your head to the soles of your feet. Find out where you are tense and relax, your neck, your stomach, take your time. Direct your thoughts to something pleasant. Music can help you do this.
And what happens next?
You feel all the tension leave your body. You feel your mind quieting down. You are completely in the present moment.
And does it work for you?
Absolutely.
Do you have to train?
In the meantime, it takes me maybe three or four breaths to get to that state.
Anytime, anywhere?
Of course. That's the point.
In fact, anyone could do that when they're stressed.
Exactly. That's what I tell everyone. Take every opportunity to get yourself into a state of calm - and ideally also to sleep right away, in power napping mode. Got ten minutes in the taxi? Take a nap! I don't understand why power napping isn't more widespread in our working world. Performance after a nap speaks volumes.
What does this mean for you?
In ocean racing, fatigue is very dangerous, because you make bad decisions when your brain is overworked. Therefore, forget about everything around you that seems super important in that moment – Even if the boat is not working optimally as you would like it to, and a competitor is sticking to you - come back to you and only focus on you, and sleep whenever you can.
Isn't crossing the Atlantic by boat too dangerous to take a nap?
Here on the boat, I know my way around. I know what to do - and once you're away from the coast, you don't have as much traffic to watch out for. In all honesty? I'm more scared when I ride my motorbike through Paris.
What about the fact that you are sailing a 17-tonne trimaran on foils, a few metres above the water and at 70 km/h 'cruising speed'?
It would be like racing on the bumpy tracks of the Dakar Rally with a Formula 1 car, but at the speed of an F1 car. For the navigators, these are totally new dimensions. It's true, we no longer talk about sailing, but about 'flying'. The foil has changed the game from top to bottom.
What does that mean?
When the boat takes off, you feel it immediately. The boat suddenly accelerates by almost 10 to 15 km/h depending on the speed and wind strength, the sound of the water on the hull suddenly disappears, instead you hear this hum of the foils splitting the water; the boat reacts to every action on the spot. I find the foil more comfortable than the classic sail.
Is that so?
Yes, up to three metres high, you don't feel the waves very much, and even facing the sea, there is very little impact with the hulls. I mean, on 'Edmond de Rothschild' we're flying on four points, two rudders, the foil, and the daggerboard. It's already very stable. Of course, you must be very careful not to make mistakes at speeds of 70 km/h and more. Unlike monohulls, trimarans can also capsize. But you are safe within a certain margin of manoeuvre, that is, if you don't push that margin beyond the limits.
What else is new?
With the speeds achieved through flight, aerodynamics now plays a central role. It makes sense. We are all experimenting with different philosophies of deck construction, flat, wide, whatever. And in doing so, we make sure that the wind doesn't go through the wrong parts of the boat, which would brake because they don't push the wind to where we are gaining speed.
Every sailing boat sails with what is called the apparent wind. This is the result of the interaction between the wind blowing and the wind on course. And because we are sailing at such a high speed, the course wind is so dominant in this parallelogram of forces that the resulting driving wind always comes from the front, from the side. Even if the initial wind is blowing from the back slant.
It must be pretty spooky.
It's physics. And in a way, it's also a generational thing. For my kids, who are 11 and 14, speed is the most normal thing in the world. If I put them on a normal sailing boat, they get bored.
About the children. What does your family think about you exposing yourself to such dangers at sea?
They don't know me any other way. For them, it's normal that Dad sails the seas on fast racing boats. I've been sailing since I was a teenager. This has a direct link with the Route du Rhum.
In what sense?
I was 15 years old, I think, when I saw the Swiss Laurent Bourgnon cross the finish line of the "Rhum" race as a winner on television. He was 24 at the time, with his sweater and everything, and totally impressed me. I knew I wanted to do the same! I also wanted to be a sailing star. I also wanted to win the Route du Rhum! That moment marked the beginning of my career.
During your career, you have won all the best offshore sailing events, including the legendary Volvo Ocean Race twice. Why is the Route du Rhum so important? "
The 'Rhum' is like the Olympics of single-handed ocean racing!
Change of scenery. The Caribbean is nearby.
Caudrelier scratches his five-day beard and smiles contentedly at the camera on his social media. He is visibly rested. "There you go, I slept well. Look, it's nice outside. Charles moves the camera mounted on the back left of the bridge up to the sky. It is bright blue, ‘Edmond de Rothschild’ is sailing on deep blue water, he is in the lead.
A little over a day later, Caudrelier crossed the finish line in front of Point-à-Pitre with a happy smile. He and his boat had covered the 6,560 kilometres in six days, 19 hours and 47 minutes. This is 18 hours and 34 minutes less than the previous record set by Frenchman Francis Joyon (and 16.5 days less than the winning race by Canadian Mike Birch in the very first Route du Rhum in 1978).
Charles Caudrelier gets off the boat, introduces himself to the cameras, thanks his team, his family, the organisers - but his very first words to the world are: "Guys, I'm not tired at all!”