SPOTLIGHT ON ERIC LOIZEAU’S LOGBOOK

MONDAY, JUNE 2

l CONFERENCE “SEAGRASS MEADOWS: A TREASURE FOR THE OCEAN AND THE CLIMATE”

A superb conference room all dressed in blue, complete with whale songs and a few penguins perched on Antarctic icebergs, welcomed us for Race For Water’s first conference on our Posidonia mission. It’s The Whale exhibition space, which is very pleasant and refreshing in the heat of Nice, but not much consolation for the small number of spectators present.

And that’s a shame, because the presentation by Patrick Astruck, a marine ecology research engineer at the GIS Posidonie, was fascinating and clearly explained the importance of Posidonia seagrass and the need to protect it. We’ll have a chance to talk about it again, as in a few days we’ll be setting off with his team of divers on a new survey and verification mission.

This quasi-sidereal void is hardly surprising. We’re in Nice at the beginning of June, on a Monday between noon and midday, time for an apéritif in the bright sunshine! It would have been better if the weather had been Breton, with fog and drizzle, but that doesn’t exist in the Mediterranean.

Patrick explains his work within the GIS Posidonie, assessing all coastal ecosystems and in particular the Posidonia seagrass meadows. Supported by a PowerPoint presentation, he explains what Posidonia is, its key role for climate regulation, the situation of these seagrass meadows and the current survey mission they are doing in the Mediterranean in association with the Race For Water foundation. Above all, he lists the various factors likely to destroy these meadows, including global warming, illegal or unlawful trawling, unnecessary beach cleaning and mooring of pleasure craft. Unfortunately, his presentation didn’t end on a very optimistic note, as he announced that the seagrass beds had been in decline for some forty years, since the installation of the marker beacons that they are now trying to find.

Camille (my boss) followed with a presentation of the Race For Water foundation, its ships and the various actions taken against ocean pollution since 2015, with two adventurous and magnificent Odysseys traced across all the seas of the planet, journeys that you can find, barely fictionalised, in the essential book “Race For Water: a plastic odyssey” ! In conclusion, Camille reminded the audience that the Foundation’s new boat, the MODX70, could be seen and visited at the Quai d’Honneur, along with the other ambassador boats for the protection of the oceans.

TUESDAY, JUNE 3

08:00 local time : All hands on deck aboard Race for Water’s MODX 70 as we prepare to welcome the first group of schoolchildren. Elsa tidies up the galley. The Captain hoses down the deck, and the plants too, sporting a stunning canary-yellow hose that suits him perfectly. Émilie vacuums every nook and cranny. Chloé checks her gear. Marco’s hard at work. Greg returns, dripping from his workout. Patrick examines his Posidonia samples, and Camille (my boss) oversees it all.

As you can see, everyone’s busy, so that by 08:30, we’re ready to go.

l WELCOMING SCHOOL GROUPS.

Camille greets the first school group. Twenty-four wide-eyed kids thrilled to explore such a vessel, crowding together as they cross the narrow gangway to reach the main deck. The visit unfolds like a well-oiled machine:

First, a presentation on the Foundation’s history and its three Odysseys, beautifully illustrated by the marvelous documentary created by my old accomplice Peter Charaf. The kids burst into applause.

Next up, Camille (still my brilliant boss) explains our collaboration with GIS Posidonie to monitor the evolution of seagrass meadows in the Mediterranean. Her words are brought to life by an excellent documentary from Chloé, our talented in-house videographer. Another round of applause.

Then Patrick, our diver-scientist, takes the stage to explain what Posidonia is and walks the children through our methodology for tracking underwater markers, dating back to the year 1980 AD.

l SHIP TOUR.

We wrap up the session with a ship tour, led with wit and charm by our perfectly groomed bearded Captain, or by Émilie, his delightful blond first mate (which conveniently rhymes in French).

The whole visit is a hit, lasting nearly 90 minutes with an engaged young audience who, for once, forgot their screens and dove headfirst into the world of the deep blue sea.

Throughout the day, we run five more sessions, again with schoolchildren, including one class of hearing-impaired kids who were especially moving (this world is truly unfair sometimes)—as well as sessions for adults, varying in their enthusiasm for the environment but all amazed by our extraordinary and one-of-a-kind vessel.

l EVENING WITH THE CREW.

Tonight, we’re invited by Marco, our commodore, to grab a pizza at a local restaurant. I’m not convinced it’ll be as good as the meals Elsa usually whips up, but we’ll make do. Time to throw on my legendary shirt (Race for Water insiders will get the reference…).

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 4

l THE BIG DEPARTURE – RESUMING THE SCIENTIFIC MISSION.

At last, we’re heading back to sea! Well, not too far—just to the anchorage at Villefranche-sur-Mer, less than 5 nautical miles from our berth at UNOC3… We welcome Patrick’s fellow divers on board, along with their impressive equipment. After one final session with some enthusiastic visitors, we say goodbye to the Commodore and my boss, whom I’ll miss dearly, as you can surely imagine.

Including our not-always-sporting engineer, there are now nine of us aboard: a well-balanced mixed crew, perfect for the ice cube game, but that’s another story.

11:30 AM : The Captain generously lets me take the helm to steer the boat out of the harbor. What a magical feeling to glide silently between the moorings, dragonfly-like in our grace, under the admiring gaze of the morning Provençal crowd. Morning sun soon gives way to a Finistère-style drizzle, no problem for our sailors, who are reminded fondly of their faraway Brittany.

l UNDERWATER INVESTIGATIONS.

An hour later, we reach the site of the first reconnaissance dive, in the peaceful bay of Villefranche-sur-Mer (not to be confused with Villefranche-sur-Saône, much farther north). This natural harbor, a closed cove, draws numerous boats to anchor, mostly luxury yachts, among which our MODX 70 looks almost Lilliputian.

Patrick explains that the markers were installed around 40 years ago, at a time when the bay was empty. He’s worried that they may now be lost among the maze of anchors and chains. But he won’t get a chance to check, someone from the Maritime Affairs Office, with a charming foreign accent, informs us that the area is off-limits to diving due to archaeological restrictions. Our divers re-cap their tanks and go back to their naps.

We resume our bumpy route offshore. Our engineer pleads with us to deploy the wings—after all, aside from working out, that’s the real reason he came. The maneuver is smooth and fast, with an express inflation. I’m totally won over. The quiet of our electric engines gives way to the gentle flutter of wings matching our sleek profile (La Fontaine said something like that, I think…).

Joking aside, the feeling is incredible. A sublime acceleration occurs as soon as the wing flap catches; the boat becomes a joy to steer with the carbon helm. Water streams along the sharp hulls. Pure bliss!

Tonight, our valiant Captain finds us a calm anchorage off the coast of Sainte-Hospice. Here, we’re safe from any imaginable peril, no billionaires’ boats nearby, just one outdated charter catamaran that looks rather out of place.

Life is good aboard our quirky-named Ganany, a tribute to the little turtle we rescued from the Pacific during a previous stopover.

THURSDAY, JUNE 5

l THE CREW HEADS BACK TO SEA.

Let’s go, team! It’s an early start for today’s operations, with a dawn transfer to our dive site off the cliffside village of Èze. Conditions are perfect, calm seas and a light breeze—allowing our divers to enter the water right on schedule, at the edge of a Posidonia meadow tragically ravaged by the chains of countless pleasure boats that have anchored here for decades.

Patrick and Margot resurface after 45 minutes, having explored 30 meters down in search of submerged markers, half-buried in silt and what’s left of the seagrass. They return disheartened : only two out of a presumed twelve markers were spotted. They decide to dive again in the afternoon after observing the mandatory three-hour surface interval between dives.

l LUNCH ON BOARD.

Speaking of intervals, it’s time for lunch. While our Spanish chef puts the finishing touches on her meal, the captain and the engineer take advantage of the light wind to deploy our elegant wings and tack gracefully around a likely billionaire’s yacht, four stories tall, with an elevator, a transparent pool, and a knife-sharp bow. Our Swiss crew member confirms the latter. Guess who?

The sun is now high and warm; our squadron of solar panels kicks into action, recharging the batteries, giving us hope we’ll have enough energy to watch the French national team’s match on the big onboard screen tonight.

l BACK TO DIVING : STILL SEARCHING FOR THE LOST MARKERS.

Meanwhile, our divers have refilled their tanks, and their bellies. They plunge back into the deep for another attempt to locate the markers, but the outcome is no better than the first round. Patrick surfaces, bobbing like a seal in his striped wetsuit, and admits in frustration that even here, the Posidonia meadows have significantly regressed.

The day’s underwater survey comes to a close. With all wings deployed, we soar like a giant albatross toward our next research site, westward, near Antibes, where our trusted captain promises us a happy anchorage. But as we arrive in the late afternoon, the sky turns gray!

“Evening rain, tomorrow’s gain,” say the Bretons. So here’s hoping for clear skies and new adventures.

Goodnight !

FRIDAY, JUNE 6

l GOOD NEWS FROM ANTIBES.

We leave our anchorage off Antibes, now crowded with pleasure yachts that arrived overnight. Gliding silently over a sea as flat as a flounder’s back, we round Pointe Bacon, those Brits really are everywhere, and slip into a peaceful cove where we drop off our two divers.

After about an hour meandering through the depths, they surface looking rather pleased behind their rubber masks. Despite murky waters and silty conditions, not only have they managed to recover nearly all the missing markers, but, best of all, they report signs of a recovering Posidonia meadow.

Heartened by the news, we head back out to sea, leaving our divers rinsed and sun-dried. By now, the bay is alive with a flurry of sun-burnished sails on sleek, varnished wooden boats, skippered by tanned local crews clad entirely in white, some sporting crisp caps.

We find ourselves in the midst of a regatta of classic sailing vessels, and all eyes turn to our futuristic catamaran, its twin wings gracefully catching the soft midday breeze, an almost heretical figure amidst this postcard-perfect scene from another time.

SATURDAY, JUNE 7

l FINAL DIVING SESSION.

Last round for our divers. The weather remains stubbornly perfect, sunny and windless. Good news for our scuba team. We cruise along Saint-Honorat Island, not forgetting a respectful bow toward the namesake abbey, renowned for its thyme-flower liqueur. At the designated drop-off point, their assistant Thomas tosses a curious yellow canister into the water, a device called Galito, oddly reminiscent of a lemon cake, serving as a sort of Ariadne’s thread so our divers can find their way back.

Meanwhile, the team suits up, a process that takes time. Especially for Margotte, our “Caldoche” from New Caledonia, who layers on wool socks and a merino skirt. Accustomed to the tropical waters of her homeland, she confesses to freezing in these “mild” Mediterranean temperatures. One wonders what she’d say if she ever tried diving in our beloved, frigid Brittany…

Strangely enough, today’s dive site is located right at the entrance to the port of Cannes, known for its Croisette, red carpet steps, and world-famous film festival… but also for its proliferation of motorboats. We find ourselves surrounded by “Sunday sailors”, though it’s only Saturday, zooming around us full throttle, regulations be damned.

To protect themselves from the constant engine noise, the divers use wax earplugs. But what about the other marine mammals ? And then people wonder why disoriented orcas are targeting rudders in the Strait of Gibraltar! After a final decompression stop, our friends from the Big Blue return to the surface safe and sound, though still disheartened by the degradation of their beloved Posidonia meadows.

l OVERALL MISSION ASSESSMENT.

Back on board, Patrick eventually admits that the overall results of this Mediterranean mission, carried out with Race for Water, are far from encouraging. Meadows are retreating at nearly every site surveyed. “This decline already began around 20 years ago,” he tells me. “Sites that seemed stable back then are now clearly in regression.”

Why ? He wonders aloud. Anchoring by large recreational boats in protected zones is a major factor, often due to ignorance of the importance of Posidonia ecosystems. This calls for substantial awareness-raising at all levels, especially among those who should be well-informed and responsible. “Then there’s water pollution, fishing pressure, and of course global warming, which is raising sea temperatures,” he adds. “But ultimately, it’s the explosion in large leisure boating that bears the most responsibility,” he concludes, glaring at two massive motorboats roaring past us, leaving foamy laughter in their wake.

The mission ends in the port of Cannes, where we disembark our teammates and their hefty gear. Then it’s back to sea, setting course once more for Nice, where the “Ocean Wonders” fleet awaits us for the grand UNOC3 parade !

SUNDAY, JUNE 8

l THE GREAT SEA PARADE.

A beautiful parade in the Bay of Nice !

At first, it looked more like a Niçoise salad than an organized parade, with boats scattered all across the open sea, far from the famous Promenade des Anglais.

Aboard Race For Water’s MODX70, thanks to the sharp foresight of our captain and the precision of his Swiss watch, we find ourselves alone at exactly 1:30 p.m., right on the dot, in the middle of a vast stretch of water stirred by a steady easterly breeze that has managed to sweep away the morning clouds. A touch melancholic, with a lump in our throats, we still feel the sting of having disembarked our divers the day before, thus officially closing our scientific mission on the Posidonia seagrass meadows.

Defying the instruction to remain under engine power (a surprising rule for an event aiming to promote sustainability), we proudly hoist our airborne wings to the blue sky, soon joined by a few other rebellious vessels in quiet defiance.

A quick loop, and it’s over ! One could regret that this parade of inspiring and stunning boats happened nearly in secret, far from the eyes of any potential spectators, even those with excellent vision! But apparently, no risks were to be taken with this nautical ballet, which could have turned hazardous. Ah well, at least people can admire the boats later, docked neatly in port while enjoying a lemon sorbet.

As for us, turning our backs with purpose on the port festivities, we head once again for the open sea, off to new and thrilling adventures in service of the planet and its oceans.