Atlantic Sailing Mistake
Joyon Finally Makes A Mistake (A Big One)…
After setting the solo transatlantic record yesterday,
Francis Joyon turned IDEC toward France and went below
for a little nap. Exhausted as only a solo
record-breaking sailor can be, he, umm, overslept and
woke up only when his 90-foot tri ground ashore on the
rocks of the Brittany coast. Joyon was rescued, but
IDEC is believed to be a total wreck, losing her mast
and slowly disintegrating into pieces. The Daily Sail
(subscription only, but well worth the price) has a
full report. Here’s just a bit of it:
This disaster may have been averted had Joyon taken
crew on board at the Lizard to help him deliver the
boat back to the Lizard, but as one close friend
commented: “Of course he is used to doing things by
himself. He prepared the boat by himself, he painted
the boat by himself, he went to New York by himself,
he took the boat to the start line by himself – that
is the way he is.” However this in no way questions
Joyon’s seamanship – there was nothing remarkable
about Joyon delivering his boat up and down this
coast, something he had done on many previous
occasions. Only this time he was exceedingly tired as
he negotiated a treacherous part of the Breton coast.
Fortunately Joyon is safe and unhurt, but this is a
terrible end for a boat that by rights should have
been put into a museum for the incredible achievements
she had made during her lifetime. 19 years old the
IDEC trimaran must have one of the highest mileages of
any race boat and was rapidly reaching the end of her
life.
It’s a sad end to a great boat, though there wasn’t
much left for Joyon to do with IDEC in the
record-breaking game. Hope the thing was insured. It
would be nice to see Joyon appear down the road with a
newer, modern design…
[Update--Joyon on the tragedy: "After crossing the
finish off The Lizard, I headed for the "Four Channel"
(editor's note – near Ushant off Western Brittany),
then went through the Raz de Sein during the evening…
As I had planned to reach La Trinité during the
morning, I decided to slow the boat down a bit, by
reducing the canvas, and with the wind aft, I was on a
bearing well off Penmarc'h Point– about 30° to the
right. As I hadn't managed to get any sleep for a long
time, when I did fall asleep, it was very deep… I was
using the autopilot, and I think it must have taken
her off course, as happened once or twice during the
record – but I wasn't going fast enough this time to
be warned of the change. I suddenly woke up, when I
heard a huge crash, when the boat came down in the
breakers between a 6 metre high rock to my left and
another one to my right. I was stuck there in the
middle. I had managed to go aground on the most
vicious rocks you can find off Penmarc'h Point. I
think it must have been around one in the morning, and
I immediately radioed a Mayday, as I thought I was on
some rocks a little further out to sea. I didn't think
for one moment that the boat had turned in towards the
coast. In the pitch black conditions, I gave my
position and the coastguards service in Corsen told me
that the rescue service was on their way, and that the
boat could be reached on foot! They helped me ashore
in amongst the rocks… I didn't know what was going on
for an hour or so, and I let them take care of me,
which isn't at all like me. As the rescue team saw I
was in shock, and not very coherent, they suggested I
go to hospital– I was examined for three hours in Pont
L'Abbé. My brother came to see me at four in the
morning, and we went back to the boat to try to get
her off with the help of the sea rescue service: a
diver from the rescue team went into the water, I got
on deck to help him moor up the trimaran, but just at
that moment, she swung around and in just a few
moments, the breakers smashed her up and her mast came
down… In spite of the extraordinary bravery and the
determination of the sea rescue team, as we speak, all
that remains of her is a few tiny pieces. It's
incredible that in such a short space of time, a boat
can be smashed up like that.»
«Those six days at sea on board IDEC were a sheer joy,
and when you find this sort of success with a boat,
you get attached to her. I'm almost ready to believe
that those little bits of fibre have some sort of
spirit. I really believe the boat worked harder than I
did in getting these two records. I was beginning to
think about other challenges. I was determined to sail
600,000 miles alone with her! (…) But in the end, at
sea, you are the only one in charge and you have to
accept your mistakes, just as you accept the laurels
of victory at other moments."]
