OBR Martin Keruzoré, “Where are their limits?”

A first round without much damage in the deep south, by Dongfeng OBR Martin Keruzoré

A first round without too much damage. At first glance, the guys and the boat are doing well. Down below it’s another story entirely. It’s a week today since we cast off, said goodbye, one week since we distanced ourselves from all contact and all forms of comfort.

Approaching Point Nemo (48 ° 52.6’S 123 ° 23.6’W), the most remote place on the earth’s oceans, and we will soon be closer to our friends in space than any terrestrial civilisation. The nearest stretch of beach lies more than 2,600km from Dongfeng, our little red boat.

One week, hours of effort and resistance if we’re to believe the scars of time left on our sailors’ faces. The watches spent in the cockpit are endless, four hours without end, without horizon. The skies are grey, with heavy seas and the seascapes are passing by us at high speed, without anyone really paying attention to them.

Everyone has the look of someone returning to the office after a long weekend. Faces are bored, wet and surrounded by neoprene hoods. Eyes are empty, closed, almost blinded by so much effort.

We’re sailing in a cloud of icy, penetrating cold, that strikes the very heart of the crew; a cold that gets to you and weakens you over time. This first week was just a trial run, an appetiser for what the Pacific still reserves for us.

Next week promises a touch of the same, but of an entirely different intensity. More - even more - wind, more swell, more south, colder, more tired, more thrilling, still.

Just how far can these girls and guys go, where are their limits? The answer is simple. They have no choice, no way out, the depression is too big to negotiate other ways across it. You have to go for it, success is key and the target of all our motivation, with Cape Horn as the trophy.