Six o’clock in the morning this Tuesday, January 14, at milk time when the countryside whitens. Full moon, clear sky under the influence of a strong anticyclone centered over northern Europe. It feels like winter sports. The cold bites and the frost covers not only the windshields, but the decks of the sailboats moored in Port Olona. Bundled up, frozen fans wait in freezing temperatures, waiting for their hero, when Charlie Dalin’s “fan club” dances noisily on the deck of the passenger launch to the sound worthy of an open-air discotheque. The latter is long overdue. 6:30 a.m. The 400 journalists present in Les Sables-d’Olonne (Vendée) are asked to board.
This night, the wind let go of the Norman, further delaying his arrival. Several bistros along the channel remained open part of the night. After tacking at Penmarc’h off the coast of Pointe Bretagne in a light land breeze, Charlie Dalin (Macif Prévoyance Santé) treated himself to a final night of watching between cargo ships, fishing boats, nets and other buoys . Its blue monohull seems to have just come from the construction site. Only the obligatory survival hatch at the rear in the event of capsize bears some marks – green algae – despite this express journey of 24,000 miles.
Four years ago, Charlie Dalin had already had “the honors of the line” after 80 days of racing, but had to hand the victory to Yannick Bestaven for a little over two and a half hours, credited with a bonus hours for having diverted and participated in the search for the shipwrecked Kevin Escoffier. This year, his Imoca will have completed the affair in 64 days, 19 hours, 23 minutes, almost 10 less than the previous record established by Armel Le Cléac’h in 2016-2017 (74 days, 3 hours, 35 minutes and 46 seconds).
His boat was discovered crippled, the port foil held in place by spider web-like ropes. With his usual elegance, the Norman did not contest the victory of his opponent, quite the contrary… but swore that he would come back this time “to prevail”, pointing out months later that he still woke up at night to “find the minutes” who he had missed. Leading at the Cape of Good Hope (South Africa) then at Cape Leeuwin (Australia), he left it to his tough opponent Yoann Richomme (Paprec Arkéa) to cross the famous Cape Horn in front… but for less than ten minutes, before taking the lead again.
8 hours. The day dawns. Thanks to the magic of technology, we discover its shaved skipper, hooded and gloved in a yellow raincoat, adjusting his boat like a robot, pilot remote control around his neck, from time to time passing a head through the deck hood, escorted by a swarm of boats. The Nouch Sud marking the finish line flashes. The wind is running out of steam. Final tack. The sailor has modest and modest triumph. The sky glows red as if to celebrate the new hero. Cinema decor. Due to low tide, Charlie Dalin cannot enter the channel this morning. Joined by his team and his loved ones, he will have to wait until 2 p.m. to detonate the famous hand rockets usually used in cases of distress, then moor his courier on the pontoon covered with a red carpet, take a first well-deserved crowd bath on the cow floor, and enjoy the burger and fries that he ordered. The sun will shine and the platforms will definitely be crowded.
