Bernard Moitessier Continue
In the sailing world Bernard Moitessier (1925-1994) is a legend. During my first trip to Polynesia in the early 2000s, I found myself short of reading material. My father-in-law handed me a book. It was The Long Way by Moitessier. I devoured it, and on my return to France purchased all his writings. I was almost thirty, and I had found a truth. Moitessier grew up in Indochina, where he learned to sail on traditional junks. In 1968 he took part in the first non-stop single-handed round-the-world race, the Golden Globe Challenge. The start (in scattered order) was from Plymouth, and the first prize was a gold globe. In his yacht Joshua, named after the sailor Joshua Slocum, Moitessier rounded the Cape of Good Hope, Cape Leeuwin and then Cape Horn. He set off into the Atlantic Ocean towards England, before turning around. About turn, Good Hope again, Indian Ocean once more; he decided to sail around the world for a second time. He crossed the path of a cargo ship, and with the help of a slingshot sent this message: “I’m continuing non-stop to the Pacific islands, because I’m happy at sea, and perhaps also to save my soul.” He didn’t know that he was winning the race, but that didn’t matter to him: he gave up the Golden Globe, the honours, because he had discovered something much more precious: he had found himself.
MARITIME INTOXICATION
Not everyone was so lucky. Donald Crowhurst, another contender for the Globe, got lost. His boat was found empty, the sailor having in all likelihood taken his own life, consumed by remorse over his imposture, since he had never really competed. Moitessier, on the other hand, plotted his long course, sailing south of Australia again, but after such a long time alone at sea, he began to hear voices and decided to head back to Polynesia, the port of Papeete in Tahiti. He had broken all records.
The book he wrote to recount his adventure, The Long Way, is marked by the intoxication of a maritime solitude. Throughout his voyage he took photos and filmed another world. Environmentalists will choke on reading everything he threw into the sea to lighten his load. Yet he was a pioneer in the field of ecology. A few years after the race, he settled on the atoll of Ahé in the Tuamotu archipelago, where he experimented with a self-sufficient lifestyle. In 1980 he had a letter published in various newspapers urging the mayors of France to plant fruit trees in their communities so that the children could enjoy free fruit, promising a large reward to the first mayor who came forward. He had to insist a little (no doubt they were afraid of the upkeep involved), but the scheme was eventually implemented here and there. Moitessier had a full life. He is buried in the cemetery of Le Bono, in Brittany. He was a real punk before his time, and in my eyes he perfectly embodies the expression “having values”.
Books by Bernard Moitessier, published by Arthaud: Sailing to the Reefs (1960), Cape Horn: The Logical Route (1967), The Long Way (1971), Tamata and the Alliance (1993).