Transatlantic Crossing on a Bali Catamarans: Day-by-Day Logbook – Part 2

DAY 17 – DECEMBER 5: GOOD OLD CHARLEMAGNE!
"The Carolingian Empire was conquered on land, and it probably never sailed the seas, but good old Charlemagne still has an impact in the middle of the ocean… yes, our four children have school every single day!

It is Michèle who runs her class, showing unfailing commitment and patience (especially when you know her days start between 2:30 and 3:00 in the morning!). A four-grade classroom, with just as many sources of distraction…

The day also began in a very special way, as the children were able to speak live with their classmates from their school—a truly special moment for them, hearing their dear friends almost two weeks after departure.

As for our route, you will have noticed from today’s position that we have finally covered a greater distance than the theoretical distance still remaining to be sailed!

This morning was also an opportunity for the older ones to carry out a somewhat risky maneuver: climbing halfway up the mast (which rises 25 meters above the sea) to retrieve a halyard that had been cut through by chafe (wear caused by friction). In the photo, that is indeed me below the radar, hoisted up by Michèle, who managed everything from the cockpit of North Star (where all the lines are led back). What a relief once back on deck."

DAY 18 – DECEMBER 6: OUR POINT NEMO, OUR EVEREST…
"Albert read “20,000 Leagues Under the Sea” in two days.
So, as we talked about Captain Nemo, we also talked about Point Nemo.

Point Nemo is not in the middle of the Atlantic, but in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, the point furthest from any land. It is so remote that when you are there, you are closer to the International Space Station than to the nearest coast…

So, halfway through the Transat’Espoir, we are in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, but while great professional sailors conquer their “Everest of the seas” by sailing around the world, you will forgive us for considering that we are climbing our own Everest right now and that we take the midpoint between Las Palmas and Martinique as our own Point Nemo.

In any case, we are happy to share this adventure as a family!"

DAY 19 – DECEMBER 7: WE ALL HAVE THE SAME SUN, AND THE SAME MOON…
"Singing that song by Grégoire takes on a different meaning when the sun and the moon truly set the rhythm of your daily life (along with the waves, of course).

The whole crew begins to nod off at 6 p.m. because it is already dark, and “Dad, Mom, is it daytime yet?” starts as early as 5:30 a.m.

When you have been at sea for some time, it becomes easier to marvel at simple things, to be moved by nature.

Yes, the sun rises, and that is perfectly normal. But have you ever imagined that it might not? Charles-Ferdinand Ramuz did. Have you thought about everything the sun brings us? We are deeply grateful for it here on North Star.

As for the moon, Paul Klee considered it the dream of the sun. It accompanies almost all of our nights, and we are very grateful, as navigation is all the more pleasant because of it."

DAY 20 – DECEMBER 8: IT’S FUNNY TO LEAVE IN NOVEMBER!
"Late November is indeed a good time to cross the Atlantic, because the hurricane season ends at the end of October, and the trade winds begin to settle in November.

But a favorable period does not mean a flat sea and just enough wind. On the contrary, winds are moderate to strong, seas are rough to very rough, and conditions are punctuated by squalls.

To understand what is happening, we rely on raw weather data, routing advice, and constant observation of the sea state.

Over the coming days, trade winds will strengthen significantly, with winds between 20 and 23 knots and gusts up to 33 knots, and waves up to 3.3 meters.

You understand—we are preparing for something other than a gentle sail."

DAY 21 – DECEMBER 9: AREN’T YOU AFRAID?
"Would you be afraid a few minutes after such a scene, in the middle of the ocean, as the sun sets for a long night?

Honestly, we are a little afraid, because even if we think we know what awaits us, we know that it is, in fact, the unknown.

As Eric Tabarly said: “Sailing does not suit impostors… at sea, you either know or you do not.”"

DAY 22 – DECEMBER 10: THE OLD MAN AND THE SEA
"Our constant watch consists of monitoring any vessels that might cross our path, visually or on radar.

We have encountered very few boats since leaving the Canaries.

One of them: a man, alone on his sailboat, 81 years old, living aboard for 41 years, crossing the Atlantic for the 43rd time.

When asked about the most beautiful moment of his life at sea, he replied:
“Now, the moment when I am speaking with you.”

A beautiful lesson: the finest moment is the present one."

DAY 23 – DECEMBER 11: WHAT’S LEFT IN OUR “GARDEN”?

"A garden? Yes, Michèle makes a round every morning in our “vegetable garden” and our “orchard”—well, she actually goes through the fruit and vegetable nets at the stern of North Star, but it sounds much more poetic this way.

For the record, we had taken on board, among other things, 60 kg of vegetables and 112 kg of fruit. Today, we only have around 10 kg of vegetables left and about 30 kg of fruit, including the small bunch of bananas that is ripening, firmly secured on the flybridge (the maneuvering station beneath the boom). It is almost time to arrive, because we wouldn’t know how to show you the swell anymore without our fruit and vegetable nets…

So, without even mentioning the 26°C at breakfast time, we hope you won’t hold it against us, but this year, for the traditional “Mère Royaume” soup, we’ll be counting on you! On another note, Albert and Pierre were on watch last night at the chart table when we received a VHF call from a sailboat concerned about a possible collision course.

After a short radio exchange, we altered our heading slightly to pass at a safer distance, and each of us continued on our way toward the Caribbean. Pierre was talking about it again this morning over breakfast, and in his own words:
“It was incredible, I didn’t expect that at all, I loved it—especially when we talked to the other boat. This transatlantic crossing is so cool!”

We tend to agree with him—even after a demanding night of sailing in Force 6–7 conditions on the Beaufort scale (meaning winds up to 60 km/h and waves over 3 meters high), and a rather fragmented sleep… Here’s a little photo for the journey—still the same ocean and the same sky, which never cease to amaze us."

DAY 24 – DECEMBER 12: AH! THE BEAUTIFUL ESCALADE…

"Even in the middle of the Atlantic, the children were determined to celebrate our traditional Escalade festival!

Before leaving, they were quite disappointed that our crossing would take place during this celebration, meaning they would miss both the race and the procession… We still had to explain that we couldn’t change our departure date or sail back just for the occasion 

As you can see, that didn’t stop us from celebrating Escalade properly, with costumes improvised by the children (yes, they don’t only do school on board—they also do crafts, play board games, and read from our large onboard library), and singing the “Cé qu’é lainô” around a chocolate cauldron decorated with marzipan vegetables and fruit jellies…

And speaking of climbing, that’s all we did throughout the night. Walls of water 3, 4, even 5 meters high to climb and descend endlessly. If the “small” 1.5-meter swell had turned our stomachs at the beginning of the crossing, this one met a well-seasoned crew—we are now properly “sea-trained” after these weeks of sailing.

And because we are curious—and perhaps you are too—we had fun calculating how many waves we have climbed and descended since the start of the Transat’Espoir… the result is dizzying: 183,365. That’s a lot of ups and downs!

Nelson Mandela once said that “after climbing a great hill, one only finds that there are many more hills to climb.” Well, we’ve verified that observation more than 180,000 times!

Fortunately, Confucius reminds us that happiness is not at the top of the mountain, but in the way we climb it.

We all have mountains of varying heights to climb, and since happiness depends not on what happens to us but on what we make of it, let’s seek it in each of our steps (and waves…)."

And if you’re wondering—we’re still fishing, with mixed success (we get bites, but haven’t landed a single fish yet), but that doesn’t stop us from enjoying it…

DAY 25 – DECEMBER 13: DOES TIME FEEL LONG… OR NOT?

"You may be wondering whether time feels long for us. We might give you a rather “Norman” answer… It’s true that we had no idea what the weather would have in store for us. We had planned a crossing of two to three weeks, and we are now reaching the upper end of that range (perhaps linked to our rather healthy appetites on board?). And with all these waves—which we even counted yesterday—it has certainly given us our fair share of queasiness. But in reality, we had never attempted to cross an ocean under sail before, nor had we ever ventured alone more than 100 nautical miles offshore. As prepared as we tried to be, we had to accept letting go. By casting off, we accepted everything the sea, the sky, and the wind might bring us.

Leaving Las Palmas de Gran Canaria, we knew we were departing—but we had no idea when we would arrive. Time has unsettled us—not in the way it does in our everyday lives ashore, but through both its length and its fleeting nature. Each day brings us closer to the long-awaited arrival, and of course we look forward to it—but we also know that all of this will be missed… So, as we write these lines, it is once again the present moment that matters most—these moments we share as a family, this time outside of time. Yes, time can feel long, but as Voltaire wrote, it is long enough for those who know how to make use of it. That is exactly what we strive to do, every single moment.

And since, after all this time, it is still the ocean, the sky, and the clouds surrounding our boat, here is yet another portrait of them—one we never tire of…

DAY 26 – DECEMBER 14: STARS IN OUR EYES

"As you know, since the beginning of our crossing, we have been keeping watch in turns, during the hours when most of you are peacefully asleep… We can hardly hide the growing fatigue, which forces us to carry out every maneuver more slowly to ensure it is done safely. In return, now that the moon has become more discreet, we have been able, during our night watches, to enjoy a breathtaking view of the star-filled sky… What we can only describe to you, however, is the constant shower of shooting stars we have witnessed over the past few nights—how to have stars in your eyes, quite literally!And we certainly had a surprise when this boat came into our lives.

We can now tell you: the boat originally planned was cancelled just one month before departure… but fortunately, North Star came along. This boat, very different from the one we had initially imagined (it would have had a single hull and been smaller), ultimately proved to be the perfect companion for our adventure. Looking back, we don’t know how we would have managed without the secure, airy, and shaded space where we spent most of our days—and nights—and where our children were able both to follow their school program and to play.

And in the end, what better sailboat than North Star—the Pole Star—for the Transat’Espoir, when you consider that the North Star has always been a guide for travelers and sailors, and also a symbol of hope…

For the remaining miles, now not so many, here is a photograph of the sunrise, accompanied by a beautiful bird that came to announce the approach of land."

DAY 28 – DECEMBER 16: REUNIONS AND FIRST STEPS ASHORE

"After a night that was not quite as long as that, between the heat and the habit of standing watch — some even spent part of the night at their watch station — we woke up happily in the bay of Sainte-Anne. Late in the morning, we were reunited, with great emotion, with the crew of Lovitana. We had parted ways in Las Palmas, before their departure with the ARC fleet, a few days before we ourselves cast off. We spent a wonderful day on board, eating a little too much — focaccia, porcini mushroom risotto, and a small orange pastry, all of it, of course, cooked on board North Star.

The children even put out to sea without us… but they did come back, helped along by tiredness and hunger. With the help of our friends, we gradually became more aware that we had truly arrived, that we had crossed the Atlantic, and that all of this had not been some waking dream, but reality. Antoine de Saint-Exupéry wrote: “Make your life a dream, and a dream a reality.” Advice followed! As if to prolong the dream a little longer, we struggled to decide to actually set foot on land.

We took the dinghy and made a brief incursion — less than a quarter of an hour — into the village of Sainte-Anne, but stayed only a few minutes, just long enough to pose in front of the Church of Sainte-Anne, patron saint of sailors."

DAY 30 – DECEMBER 18: ARRIVED SAFE AND SOUND

"The day began with a good little grey squall, the kind that reminded us more of late autumn under a layer of stratus cloud than of a tropical sunrise. Helped along by the nostalgia of the end of the journey, it could almost have been raining in our hearts as it rained on this island… By the time we had eaten breakfast under shelter, the sun had quickly come to keep us company for this final day of sailing through the legendary bays of this part of the island of flowers.

After lifting anchor, we set course towards Fort-de-France, though without going quite that far. The time at which we reached Anse Dufour allowed us to meet local fishermen, masters of an art that we ourselves had only barely touched upon during our crossing.

There is still so much for us to learn, so much to discover… and the desire to continue is certainly not lacking. Last summer, we had just reached the island of Groix under sail when Alan Roura entered the harbour basin with his whole family on board. We exchanged a few words, and it gave us the opportunity to tell the children about our transatlantic project for the very first time.

Aurélia, Alan’s partner, pointed out to us that after Alan’s family had crossed the Atlantic, they went on to sail around the world…

Those waiting for us in our respective activities can rest assured: although the desire is certainly there, we will indeed be back at the start of the new term. We also take this opportunity to thank all our colleagues who have covered for us during our absence — even if it is true that Anse Noire does not exactly make you want to go home…

After one last swim in this anchorage and lunch in front of the church of Petite Anse d’Arlet, we set course for Le Marin Marina, the final stop of our journey."

This time, we would pass between the island and Diamond Rock, a perfectly reasonable passage despite its name, the “Passe des Fous” — the Madmen’s Passage — and certainly no crazier than crossing the Atlantic under sail as a family!"

TRANSAT’ESPOIR: MISSION ACCOMPLISHED

"A heartfelt thank you to each and every one of you for following us throughout this Atlantic crossing, which proved to be rich in experiences, emotions, and discoveries. We are thinking about ways in which we might be able to share a little more of this Transat’Espoir with you…

In the meantime, we would like to thank you for your support of the Dr Henri Dubois-Ferrière Dinu Lipatti Foundation, which remains essential in helping advance research against leukaemia and other blood diseases."

This second part brings to a close an extraordinary maritime and family adventure. Over the course of these final days, the emotion of arrival blends with gratitude, pride in the journey accomplished, and memories that are already indelible."

DAY 30 – DECEMBER 18: ARRIVED SAFE AND SOUND

"The day began with a good little grey squall, the kind that reminded us more of late autumn under a layer of stratus cloud than of a tropical sunrise. Helped along by the nostalgia of the end of the journey, it could almost have been raining in our hearts as it rained on this island…

By the time we had eaten breakfast under shelter, the sun had quickly come to keep us company for this final day of sailing through the legendary bays of this part of the island of flowers. After lifting anchor, we set course towards Fort-de-France, though without going quite that far. The time at which we reached Anse Dufour allowed us to meet local fishermen, masters of an art that we ourselves had only barely touched upon during our crossing.

There is still so much for us to learn, so much to discover… and the desire to continue is certainly not lacking. Last summer, we had just reached the island of Groix under sail when Alan Roura entered the harbour basin with his whole family on board. We exchanged a few words, and it gave us the opportunity to tell the children about our transatlantic project for the very first time.

Aurélia, Alan’s partner, pointed out to us that after Alan’s family had crossed the Atlantic, they went on to sail around the world…

Those waiting for us in our respective activities can rest assured: although the desire is certainly there, we will indeed be back at the start of the new term. We also take this opportunity to thank all our colleagues who have covered for us during our absence — even if it is true that Anse Noire does not exactly make you want to go home…

After one last swim in this anchorage and lunch in front of the church of Petite Anse d’Arlet, we set course for Le Marin Marina, the final stop of our journey.

This time, we would pass between the island and Diamond Rock, a perfectly reasonable passage despite its name, the “Passe des Fous” — the Madmen’s Passage — and certainly no crazier than crossing the Atlantic under sail as a family!"

DAY 31 – DECEMBER 19: FAREWELL TO NORTH STAR

"North Star, we bid you farewell. 

For four weeks, you allowed us to sail in all weather, through all kinds of sea and wind conditions, always safely on board.

We were able to experience wonderful moments, both alone and as a family. You were faithful to us and allowed us to cross even an ocean. Farewell, companion — you will always remain in our hearts. It feels as though our departure from Las Palmas was so long ago, so much have we lived through during these past weeks of sailing, weeks that have certainly changed us all.

Nicolas Bouvier wrote that “some think they are taking a journey, but in fact it is the journey that makes and unmakes you.”

Speaking of making and unmaking, you saw our suitcases at the beginning of the adventure — here they are now, unloaded from our proud vessel. Each of us has grown a great deal during this great adventure, and we have also evolved together as a family.

We are also grateful to have been able to carry on board the Dr Henri Dubois-Ferrière Dinu Lipatti Foundation and the cause it supports: advancing research against leukaemia and other blood diseases. Some of you discovered the DFDL Foundation through our crossing, and many of you supported it through donations or promised donations to come. We would like to thank you for your help, which contributes to advancing medical research.

Keep in mind that while this voyage is coming to an end, the work of researchers continues, and your support will remain essential.

Honoré de Balzac completed delightful journeys embarked upon a single word; well, we have completed a wonderful one upon two words: Transat’Espoir."

TRANSAT’ESPOIR: MISSION ACCOMPLISHED

"A heartfelt thank you to each and every one of you for following us throughout this Atlantic crossing, which proved to be rich in experiences, emotions, and discoveries.

We are thinking about ways in which we might be able to share a little more of this Transat’Espoir with you…

In the meantime, we would like to thank you for your support of the Dr Henri Dubois-Ferrière Dinu Lipatti Foundation, which remains essential in helping advance research against leukaemia and other blood diseases."

This second part brings to a close an extraordinary maritime and family adventure. Over the course of these final days, the emotion of arrival blends with gratitude, pride in the journey accomplished, and memories that are already indelible."