She was born in Portsmouth, England, in 1974 to a family of sailors. Her grandfather was even a submarine commander. At the age of 24, she began competing in sailing competition by completing her first crewed circumnavigation of the globe, the 1998 Jules Verne Trophy. Since then, she has collected transatlantic races, with more than twenty-five to her credit, and has sailed twice around the world. Since 2017, with her boat Initiatives-C?ur, she has been defending the colours of the Mécénat Chirurgie Cardiaque association, which enables children suffering from serious heart malformations to be operated on in France when this is impossible in their own country. In 2019, she and her teammate Paul Meilhat finished 7th in the Transat Jacques Vabre. Sensory memories..
The view
I think that since I've been racing, it's my sails that I look at the most! I'm always trying to trim them as precisely as possible, of course. What's more, my boat is unique, in my eyes, as it bears the colours of the Mécénat Chirurgie Cardiaque association... so her sails are too! And especially for me, the mainsail. Since 2017, it is the portrait of Ardacha that decorates it. She is a little African girl of about ten years old, who was operated in 2016. She is radiant, because this photo was taken when she was healed and was about to return to her country, and to be reunited with her family. Ardacha is the symbol of all the other children helped by this association. I am proud to see it on my sail... I find it incredible to be able to contribute to saving young people with my project and the help of the general public. Indeed, for each click of an Internet user on my social networks, my partners give one euro to the association. Looking at this face can only energize me in hard times...and motivate me!
The touch
Touching him is like my night vision on my boat. In the night of course I light up, but not too much either, so as not to be dazzled. So, as I don't always see things precisely, I use my fingers to identify what's around me. It can be a piece to grasp, for example. To tell the truth, I'm able to recognise all the objects on board, because I know my boat and I've acquired automatisms with my hands. It's a bit like the visually impaired with vision: they use their other senses more, including touch. For me, seeing with my fingers also represents, unfortunately, a risk of hurting myself if I haven't properly estimated what I have under my hands. As I ask a lot of my hands during the race, they are often painful: so, at the slightest shock, they can really hurt me ..
Hearing
It's well known that our racing boats generate a lot of noise. Sometimes I think it can even be dangerous for me. So I protect my ears with headphones or earplugs. Kind of like in factories, yes! We are sailing on machines that are highly mechanical and fragile. They can reveal weak points and have unpleasant surprises in store for us... the warning signs of which are usually audible! Water on the hull that produces a different sound, wind in the sails that blows differently, appendages that vibrate in a new way... can herald problems. I need to hear all this. That's why I can't cut myself off from all these sounds either. It's the life of my boat that I have to keep in my head, in my ears! When I'm in radio or telephone communication, I put on headphones, otherwise I wouldn't hear anything. What's surprising is that sometimes, during very quiet moments, on the contrary of calming me down, the relative silence prevents me from sleeping, in particular: it's too quiet... In fact, the normal noise reassures me, even rocks me!
Taste
When I'm in the race, feeding myself is very important to me. And even vital of course, but beyond that, it's important to take care of your body, quite simply, to stay in the best possible shape, to conserve energy... From this point of view, you could say that it's part of my job as a skier! Meals also allow me to cut out my day of sailing. They mark out a timetable, based on the rhythm of the sun, which I try to follow as much as possible. That way, I can count down the days and hours and set myself goals for the day and the week. Of course, it all depends on the outside conditions. I don't set myself fixed times either, as the priority for me remains the speed of the boat. So, sometimes, these breaks for eating, I shift them a bit! Eating can also bring me moments of pleasure, and therefore also boost my morale. It plays on the psycho part of the adventure, it's true. What I prefer, it's always salty. Not one dish in particular: it depends on how tired I am. I can choose hot or cold..
The sense of smell
The most amazing thing for me about smell is the smell of the earth. When I spend a long time at sea, with no land on the horizon, what I have to smell, apart from the iodized air, is restricted because the sea generates relatively few smells. So often, after long crossings, when I get close to different countries with different climates, I can smell the land before I even see it! It's an incredible feeling. About 50 miles from Ireland, I breathed air filled with grass, cows, in short, agriculture! It was furtive, like a fragrant loop passing under my nose... But so intense, that even if I hadn't had a map, I would have known there was land there. When I arrived in the West Indies, it was just as intense, but with a different scent, that of land in a tropical climate. It's the same effect as when you get off a long-haul flight: a kind of hot flush of exotic scents that suddenly rises to your nose. When you're at sea, of course, it lasts much longer. I like this feeling because I associate it with adventure, travel, exploration... And I imagine our ancestors sailing without a map and discovering unknown shores first through this sense of smell. It must have been incredible for them!
What about fear?
In fact, it's more of a confidence-building thing I'd like to talk to you about! When you set off for the day, you naturally ask yourself a lot of questions about the sailing itself: the reefs to take or not to take, the sails to change, the trajectory between two reefs to follow... and of course, you don't always choose the right option. You get tired, for example, of changing and rechanging the sails, as you've misjudged the wind... But when you spend a lot of time at sea, I have the impression that you develop a sixth sense, which helps you to better understand what's going on and to anticipate. I have the impression that I'm weaving a sort of link with the boat and the weather elements, that I'm managing to get in touch with them. If the questions are still there, the hesitations seem to be fading away. I feel, for example, that the change in wind direction is coming more surely, and I can therefore decide what adjustments to make, and carry them out more clearly. And the more time I spend at sea, the more this feeling of knowing intensifies. I find it very surprising, I must admit, and besides I don't understand exactly what it's all about, where it comes from... There is undoubtedly a connection to be made with hypnosis, which I practise a bit myself. At first, I didn't think this connection was possible. But I ended up accepting that this 6th sense really works! I am quite proud and happy today of its efficiency, its usefulness. It's something that gave me confidence. Of course, this mystery, it scared me a bit (here comes the fear!), but it brings me so much in terms of performance now!
