On February 4, 2021, Clarisse Crémer crossed the Sables-d'Olonne channel, amazed by the crowd of supporters who came to welcome her. She has just completed her first Vendée Globe and returned to the human world, disoriented after 87 days at sea with only flying fish, dolphins and albatross as companions. A cloud of Zodiacs accompanies him. Standing at the front of her sailboat, her features drawn but radiant, she raises her arms in victory. The navigator is however “only” the 12e participant in completing this solo, non-stop round-the-world trip. But as Robin Knox-Johnston, the first sailor to achieve this feat, said in 1969: “The one who finishes is a winner.” THE finishers, a breed apart: there are only 97 to date, including ten women. Clarisse slaps her boat hard then kisses it several times. “This one is my best friend,” she explains once her feet are on the ground.
The arrival of Clarisse Crémer after the Vendée Globe, in 2021.
Loic Venance/AFP
Three years later, to the day, Clarisse Crémer received a call from Antoine Mermod, the president of the Imoca association, responsible for controlling the solo round-the-world boats. A rumor is circulating on the pontoons: the sailor would have been directed by her companion Tanguy Le Turquais during the race. Both would have violated the basic rules of the Vendée Globe which prohibit participants from receiving routing assistance, or from having weather information other than that provided by the organization. The principle of “non-assistance” is the very essence of this race nicknamed “the Everest of the seas”. In short, the couple would have cheated. The Team et The Telegram would be in the confidence. Shortly after this call, on February 11, the gossip became reality: an anonymous email was sent to Jean-Luc Denéchau, the president of the French Sailing Federation. We see fourteen screenshots of WhatsApp conversations between Clarisse Crémer and Tanguy Le Turquais. Among these exchanges are maps on route options, such as when she approaches Cape Horn. “Is this realistic? he wrote to her. This morning's routing is 80% with GFS [Global Forecast System, un modèle de prévision météo]. If that's it, you arrive at the same time as Maxime at Cape Horn. So take care of your boat. »
On February 11, he went to work when he heard his name and that of his partner mentioned on France Info. “It was a tsunami, super hard,” he tells me. Clarisse Crémer is in a state of astonishment. She takes the blow even harder, “scandalized”, feeling a “feeling of rape”, in her own words. What to do? The couple hesitates on the strategy to follow, because everyone is playing a big role in this affair. She, a disqualification and, worse, the impossibility of participating in the following edition, the start of which is scheduled for November 10 in Les Sables-d'Olonne. And he too would be deprived of it, while he dreams of one day lining up at the start of this 2024 Vendée Globe. Years of work could thus go to the bottom. Tanguy Le Turquais, who wears the colors of an association helping the homeless, has not yet completed its financing of 1.2 million euros and sees prospects turn to him overnight. back. For Clarisse Crémer, the financial stakes are even more important. Its sponsor, L'Occitane en Provence, allocated a budget of 3.5 million euros per year, to which is added the same sum for the purchase of the boat.
She arranged to meet me in mid-April in Larmor-Plage, at the restaurant L'Optimist, an involuntary nod to the feeling she strives to cultivate. His Imoca is moored nearby, at the port of Kernével. She's a little on guard, taller than I imagined, more athletic too. The ordeal has affected her, even if she masks her anger. “There is definitely a part of me damaged by all of this,” she whispers. Fortunately, my team and my partners never doubted us. I don't know what I would have done without it. » In a few days, on April 28, she will take part in the legendary English Transat (renamed Transat CIC), a solo crossing across the North Atlantic to New York. This race, known to be very tough, brings together the main competitors who will then line up at the start of the Vendée Globe. Many have their ring on the other side of Lorient harbor, at La Base, a sort of HQ for competitive sailing. Staying away from the troop isn't so bad after all: she doesn't want to meet anyone's gaze, benevolent or suspicious. This spring, she is especially looking forward to making up for lost time, to going back to sea, to getting to know this new boat better, “a good friend but not yet the best”.
A cuddly toy hanging on the boom
When the accusation of cheating was broadcast, the couple chose not to speak out in the press and to give their version of the facts on social networks, where Clarisse Crémer has her community of fans. She denies it, of course. For the record, she questions the timing, three years after the events, is surprised by the method, convinced of a “malicious intention”. But the media outpouring is too strong, undoubtedly amplified by their refusal to speak publicly. Very quickly, the affair resonated beyond the circle of insiders, giving a glimpse of a world of ocean racing less united than expected. The Team, without mentioning names, assures that the “top guns of the discipline” consider “almost unanimously” that there was a fault. Le Figaro abounds: “Screenshots […] hardly seem to leave any doubt about these totally prohibited routing exchanges. » We discover that these images are circulating among specialized journalists. We only talk about that anymore. Names of informers are circulating behind the scenes. It smells like a cesspool in the land of sea spray.
Why her? Why three years later? To try to see clearly, we must return to the trajectory of this sailor who appeared out of nowhere and who very quickly joined the elite of extreme skippers. She recounts her journey in a comic strip co-written with the designer Maud Bénézit, I'm going but I'm afraid (ed. Delcourt, 2023). This is the story of a young girl from a good family living in Saint-Cloud, who did a preparatory business school at the private Lycée Sainte-Geneviève, the prestigious Jesuit establishment in Versailles, before joining HEC on the first try. ; barely graduated, “Clacla”, as those close to her call her, founded a stay reservation start-up with her brother outdoor. Family atavism: his father founded the brokerage site Meilleurtaux and his mother, a banker, invests in young companies on her own. “Until then, I went where I was expected, as it came,” writes the good student in her comic strip. But acting like a business manager, selling a bright future to investors or clients, that's not her specialty: “Talking with someone who makes me feel stupid and pushing the point, I can't,” she says. she, cash. I need to be authentic. »
Clarisse Crémer.
PKC_MEDIA
