The Saint-Malo village has opened, and for the hundreds of thousands of spectators who will pack the pontoons before the Route du Rhum - Destination Guadeloupe starts on 1 November, this is pure holiday mood. For the skippers, it's rather more complicated.
Managing the village fortnight is, for many, as big a challenge as the race itself. "I've been here several times before as a spectator, had a great laugh, partied hard," smiles Tanguy Caradec (Eurvad, Vintage Mono). "I can see how it all works, but I know that as a skipper it's a completely different story."
There is relief, first, in simply being there after months of preparation and doubt. "We all want to make the most of it, to share as much as possible with the people we love, the people who've come to see us," says Louis Burton (Armand Thiery, Ultim). Baptiste Hulin (Viabilis Oceans, Ocean Fifty) agrees: "Family and the crowds give you a real boost of positive energy. It's nothing but good." Jérémie Beyou (Charal, IMOCA) says arriving at the dock is always impressive, with that same warm, joyful buzz running through the village and the old town.
But the warmth comes at a cost. Luke Berry (Le Rire Médecin Lamotte, Ocean Fifty) puts it plainly: it's a chance to see old friends and family again, "but you have to find the right balance so you don't burn through too much energy." Sponsors, media, well-wishers and school groups all compete for a skipper's time. Florian Gueguen (Graine de courage, Class40) lists the obligations: partners, schools, running a stand. "We'll really need to manage things so we don't build up too much fatigue." Pierre-Louis Atwell (Resilient) sums up the paradox neatly: "On one hand you want to make the most of it with sponsors and prospects. On the other, it drains you completely."
Corentin Horeau (MACSF, IMOCA) takes a measured view, noting skippers arrive roughly ten days before the start. He splits the fortnight in two: an enjoyable first week, then a second week where "you have to try to protect yourself and get into your own bubble." Armel Le Cléac'h (Maxi Banque Populaire XI, Ultim) agrees, saying that once the start weather becomes clearer, he mentally "enters" the race.
Some skippers head home briefly at the start of the second week before returning for the final days, a chance to isolate, catch up on jobs, and sleep in their own bed. Atwell plans to do exactly that, "to do something else, go for a walk, get on the wing, and above all recharge the batteries."
Rodolphe Sepho (Canbt-Oti Rêve de Large 5, Class40) splits his days between his team, boat prep, outside commitments and, increasingly as the days tick by, race preparation. He deliberately books accommodation away from the walled city "to get away from the noise and the party," and refuses to stay out past 7pm. Thierry Roger (Perros Guirec, Vintage Multi) has booked a house twenty kilometres out for the same reason, after being warned by veterans that the fortnight is "completely exhausting."
Charlie Capelle (Acapella, Proludic, La Chaîne de l'Espoir), lining up for his seventh Route du Rhum, likes to visit the pontoon early, before the crowds, just to sit with his boat. The rest of the day he fulfils his obligations, then retreats to a hotel cocoon.
Beyou laughs that nobody can make every party or dinner. The physical toll is one thing, he says, but pulling yourself out of it mentally is harder.
There are small escapes, though. Beyou recommends the beach at Le Sillon, just 200 metres from the village, with the kids and a ball. Burton points to quiet corners, beaches and shops within the old town walls where a sailor can find a moment's peace.
As he puts it, the whole town is swept up in the festival spirit, people are genuinely interested in the sport, and there's a lot of sharing and good moments in it. His final word carries real weight: every skipper knows that if they make it to Guadeloupe, their turn to properly celebrate will finally come.
