That Moment When It All Becomes Real

Between the Desire to Leave and the Wish to Hold Back Time

A few hours before casting off, sailors often find themselves caught in a paradox.

They have been waiting for this start for a long time. They have worked for it, thought about it and prepared every detail. And yet, when it finally arrives, some would happily prolong these final hours ashore.

“The hardest part is the evening before race day,” explains Manu Cousin. “You want to slow the clock down and enjoy those last moments with your loved ones.”

Even after two Vendée Globe campaigns, the sailor from Les Sables d’Olonne still experiences that familiar emotion. The skipper of Coup de Pouce, racing from his home port, takes none of these final hours for granted.

“We’re fortunate to be here, on this start line. I’ve done a lot of mental preparation over the past few months to arrive in the best possible state of mind and, today, I feel fairly calm.”

Others, by contrast, simply want the waiting to be over.

“At some point, you just have to go,” smiles Nicolas d'Estais. “During the final few days, you’re constantly busy, but in reality not much actually happens. You keep checking the weather, preparing everything and waiting impatiently.”

The skipper of Café Joyeux is now looking forward to only one thing: releasing the pressure.

“Often, as soon as the start is given, the stress disappears.”

Between these two opposing feelings lies the essence of the hours before a race: the desire to hold on to the moment a little longer and the equally strong desire to finally see the adventure begin.

When the Mind Keeps Working

Pre-start nerves never manifest themselves in exactly the same way.

For some, they settle in the mind. For others, in their sleep. And sometimes in the body itself.

“I was hot all night,” laughs Corentin Horeau. “The same thing happened before the 1000 Race. I wake up sweating even though I’ve slept well. I think my brain is still working.”

He takes the reaction in his stride.

“It’s normal. I’m still relatively new to IMOCA racing.”

The same applies to Sam Goodchild (MACIF Santé Prévoyance), who describes that peculiar moment when everything is ready but nothing has started yet.

For Ambrogio Beccaria, preparing for his first major solo race aboard Allagrande Mapei, experience does little to remove the tension.

“Honestly, even if this were my tenth race, I probably wouldn’t be much calmer.”

The Italian nevertheless draws reassurance from his recent qualification sail.

“It mainly reminded me that, even after two years without solo racing, I still know how to do it. The boat is impressive, but you have to anticipate everything and avoid being caught out.”

A Horoscope Before Heading for the Arctic

And then there are those small rituals that often appear as departure time approaches.

Those harmless, sometimes irrational habits that even the most pragmatic sailors cannot help but find entertaining.

On Sunday morning, Elodie Bonafous and Francesca Clapcich (11th Hour Racing) checked their horoscopes before setting course for the High North.

“Mine is terrible,” laughs the skipper of Association Petits Princes – Quéguiner.

“It says I shouldn’t confuse speed with haste. It also says I’m going to catch a cold. Which isn’t entirely impossible given where we’re heading!”

Of course, the sailor from Finistère insists she does not really believe in astrological predictions. But she readily admits the advice is worth keeping.

“Not confusing speed with haste is actually a very good rule in IMOCA racing.”

The scene raises a smile.

More than anything, it serves as a reminder that, just a few hours before the start, even the most experienced sailors sometimes look for ways to make peace with the uncertainty ahead.

In a matter of hours, there will be no more imagining the race.

It will be time to live it.

Northbound, towards latitudes few of them usually visit.

The doubts, anticipation and excitement will not disappear. But the moment will finally have come to move from waiting to action.