Words John Skye//PhotosLawiin06, Matteo Guazzoni, Jean Souville, Jean Marc Cornu, Stuki San
Défi Wind is the legendary event that puts over 1000 windsurfers on the same starting line, pros and amateurs alike for an edge of your seat harness racing experience like nothing else. Every May eager ‘Défi’s’ make the pilgrimage to Gruissan in the South of France to face the might of the howling Tramontane winds and test their metal on long distance reaches. In and out of the buoys this definitely is not. Amongst the challengers was our very own John Skye, he recounts this year’s event and why it was one to remember!
FIRST TASTE The Défi has been on my bucket list of events for a while. Ever since the legendary high wind events of 2015 and 2016 I always thought it looked fun and a nice sort of challenge. In 2017 I finally made it to Gruissan Plage in the South of France, but unfortunately there was no wind, so this year was my first real taste of Le Défi, and what a taste it was!
I arrived late the night before and as RRD had a stand booked, the first priority was to get all the gear onto the beach whilst we still had a chance. The following morning there would be 1300 people swarming around so access would be difficult. The guys that had made it there early said it had been quite light that day, only 25-30 knots! The event site is an amazing setup. A large stage sits in the middle, with exhibition stands to the right and a large party/drinks/food tent to the left. Then as you walk towards the beach you pass more exhibition tents and restaurants before finally on the beach there is a ring of yet more exhibition tents. For those that went to NWF at Hayling, imagine that times 2 or 3. This event is not only about racing!
HOWLING Thursday morning we were woken by a gale and sure enough when we arrived at the beach it was howling. We set to work unpacking 20 new boards and screwing around 80 footstraps on. There were flags to put up and sails to rig too, but in that wind it seemed pretty pointless! Once that was done it was time to switch focus to the race, with a briefing at 13:00 and a 1st start at 15:00.
The Défi briefing is something that has to be seen (and heard) to be believed. More like a rock concert, with sound effects booming out of the PA and the organiser, Phillipe Bru, putting on a show worthy of the entry fee alone. After one hour of screaming and shouting they finally get down to the details of the race. Organizing 1300 windsurfers in a 40km race with 40 knot offshore winds is quite a task and they certainly take it seriously. With around 50 boats and jet skis patrolling the water as well as a wall of buoys 1km out to sea, they have never lost anyone. The safety briefing goes on, and on, and on, and on and after 2 hours, eventually it comes down to the big countdown. With huge fanfare, yet more sound effects and massive cheers from the crowd, the giant start watch on the screen begins its countdown from 60 minutes. Race 1 is finally cleared for launch.
I rig up the 5.2 and 90 litre / F-hot 32 cm fin combo. It’s a setup I have been tuning for the last couple of weeks in Gran Canaria. I am at a massive advantage with this because there are few places were the wind blows so strong. Still as I hit the water it’s a shock how strong it actually is. The Tramontane passes over the Pyrenees and comes in cold and hard. My confortable GC setup is not feeling very confortable right now. A few runs and a few adjustments and it starts to feel better, but I can’t imagine how the other guys are dealing with it.
STARTING POINT Before coming to the event I had been picking the brains of everyone I knew about the Défi, trying to piece together as much information as I could. The best place to start, which tactics to use, gear tuning and just about everything else I could think of. My strategy was to start about 50-100 metres from the pin end of the line, out of the way of the top guys, but not too far behind them either. The start is what they call a rabbit start with a 30ft powerboat charging upwind at around 30 knots, and 1300 windsurfers blasting behind. It has to be seen to be believed, so check out the online videos.
Not really knowing what to do, I set about the start like any other slalom start, crossing the line in the right direction with 4 minutes left and then gybing on the 3 minute mark to come back the other way. That is when the wall of windsurfers blew me away. It is something you have to see to really understand what it is, and when you add in 40 knots of wind, whitewater being ripped off the surface and metre high chop in all directions, it just adds to the spectacle. My problem now is that I am heading towards this wall in the wrong direction and there doesn’t look to be much space! I spot a small hole and pass through into a cauldron of turbulent water and dirty wind. I just about wobble around a gybe and then find myself stuck in the middle of 1000 sailors. Luckily in 40 knots of wind even dirty air can get you moving, and I start to move towards the front row. Finding a little space, I push upwind and hang back a bit, creating a little room below me. When I catch the first glimpse of the boat I sheet in, hold my breath, close my eyes and fly through the front line of windsurfers out into clean water!
LOCK AND GO Now it was a case of lock it all down and go. Normally on a PWA start after about 30 seconds people start to come past, so I was pushing and pushing waiting for the familiar slapping of a board upwind. Surprisingly this never came and suddenly I realized I was clear of the pack and pretty much on my own. About 200 metres downwind and a little way ahead were the frontrunners, then nobody! I had no idea where I was heading. Off in the distance there were 2 headlands. The first seemed too close to be 10 kms, whilst the other seemed too far and way off downwind. At this point my theory was to head upwind if in doubt, as at least I would find the gybe mark that was supposed to be near the beach somewhere. After about 2 or 3 kms I finally hear a board coming over the top, and it was actually quite a relief to have somebody close by. Past winner of the Défi, Andrea Cucchi of Point-7, blasted past and I locked in behind him, happily following his black sail. At around the 5km point things started to hurt a bit. Sailing in one direction for so long is not normal and begins to get a bit uncomfortable. The headland that seamed too close has not actually got any closer and it soon becomes apparent that this must be the 1st buoy. Still I follow the black sail.
Finally at around 7km we hit the beach. At this point it’s more or less a speed track, broad and flat. Normally it would be a case of bearing off and I know with this gear I can get speeds of over 35 knots. However the reality is that my legs are burning and going fast over chop was not what they wanted to do. Instead I bounced down the last 3km, and have never been so happy to see a gybe mark! As everyone converges there suddenly seems to be hundreds of people ahead, but all I really cared about is getting onto the other tack and giving my body a break. The gybe is relatively simple, but stepping into the straps and getting into position on the new tack proves to be harder than expected. My body seemed to be stuck twisting in the opposite direction, but it eventually sorts itself out.
Now heading the other way there were literally 1000 people sailing straight at me at close to 30 knots. There is clearly no way through that lot and I watch as many of the guys in front fly off downwind and out to sea. Still pretty lost I do what I have been doing the whole race and follow the black sail, which chooses a higher line. Now almost 4km back the fleet starts to thin out a bit and I decide to make a break and try to get upwind of it. I weave my way through the oncoming traffic avoiding the back markers as they fly out of control and catapult in front of me. I even have the terrifying moment of a head to head with someone foiling… in 40 knots!!! I navigate my way to the beach and now enjoy a relatively cruisey blast along the flat water to the 2nd gybe.
By this point the fleet is fairly spread out and I found myself locked in battle with 2 others. No idea who they were but what followed was a 20km battle. I got ahead of one, then the other would go past, then in front, then behind, swapping places heading upwind and downwind. This continued until around 37km when my body had had enough. I looked behind to see there was nobody else coming and let off the gas a bit. I figured I was around 30-40th, so gaining 1 position didn’t feel like it mattered. The black sail I had been following the whole time was a distant dot on the horizon. I have never been happier to cross the line and when my feet were finally back on dry land I was not really too sure if it had been fun or punishment. I guess the feeling is similar to running a marathon. Relief that it’s over, but a huge sense of satisfaction as well. I also suddenly realized I must have done a bit better than I thought, because there weren’t that many people around at the beach. It’s hard to believe you have done well when the winner was literally 3km ahead, but when the results finally came through I had finished a very satisfying 10th!
OFF DAY The next day was beautiful but zero wind. I am sure I wasn’t the only windsurfer on the beach happy for a rest! With the sun shining it was time to show off our goods, and out came the beach tents and flags and the industry put on a fantastic show of the latest and greatest gear. It is such a contrast, but this is what makes the event so special. The stage is utilized nonstop throughout the day with prize giveaways and presentations, including boards handed out to lucky competitors all chosen at random based on your contest vest number. Throughout the day there are non-stop interviews with competitors with the first question always being, “where are you from?” With over 35 countries taking part it truly is a global affair, with 30 odd making the trip from the UK. What is also great to see is the number of youths taking part with 130 of the fleet under 18.
As the afternoon turns into the evening things start to heat up. There are parties every night, but this has all the makings of a big one. No wind tomorrow and a day of relaxing and beer drinking on the beach. Sure enough the music starts to pump out and the party tent is rammed. We go exploring to check the other bars in the event site and they are all pumping. This is as much about the social as it is about the windsurfing and the party rages until the early hours.
STORMY SATURDAY Saturday in contrast dawned cold, cloudy and all a bit dreary…. which is incidentally how I felt after one too many beers the night before. At the beach there was enough wind for foiling and 100’s hit the water to silently fly around.There was an attempt to run a mini ‘foil’ Défi but the wind shuts down as soon as they put the buoy in the water.Suddenly the wind goes from onshore 10 knots to zero. Then starts to pick up from the opposite direction. The PA announces to batten down the hatches because the storm is coming and sure enough in less than an hour it’s 40 knots, accompanied by driving rain. With the forecast for the next day predicting strong winds we had already made the decision to pack up as much of the stand as we could, but still the weather caught us out and we battled away trying to fold up inflatable tents and derig sails. By nightfall it felt like the wind was peaking at 60 knots and rain that puts the UK to shame. But the promise of racing tomorrow meant everyone went to bed happy… except maybe the poor souls camping in tents around the site, whom I suspect had a very rough night!
SUPER SUNDAY Sunday starts windy, wet and freezing. I am completely unprepared for weather I would normally associate with Sylt. Last year had been hot and sunny the whole time and I had only packed a light summer jacket. Everyone was packed into the party tent for an indoor briefing, which once again was a full show going on for nearly an hour. The plan was for 3 races, but I don’t think anyone in the room believed it would happen. Eventually they announced a shorter start countdown of 45 minutes and race 2 was underway.
This time the start went terribly for me. With the wind much lighter (only 25-30 knots!!!) there was not the same power to get out of trouble. I followed the same tactic that had worked so well in race 1, but this time I was left stationary amongst 1000 sailors, off the plane and out of the straps as the boat flew by and the rest of the fleet disappeared into the distance. It was a disaster start, but actually the most fun race of them all. This time instead of blasting along on my own I was picking people off one by one, heading upwind to get clear of one, then bearing off to go under another. This time for some reason the 10km flies by and I even manage to attack the gybe a bit and take a couple of places. There are people everywhere this time around and I have no idea where I am in the rankings. The wind by this point had picked up about 10 knots and those that chose the right size for the start, are now getting punished. I battle on and eventually claw back to a respectable 19th, even though it felt like 50th.
Race 3 took a while to get underway while they checked there were no missing people. EVERYONE has to sign out and sign back in again before and after the race, a way to keep track of everyone and make sure nobody is lost. Now 3 or 4 are missing, but thankfully it turns out they were on the beach grabbing a sandwich or beer!
Finally we get underway with the wind peaking towards 40 knots+ and nearly all the top guys reach for their smallest sails. My new strategy is to take advantage of the first 3-4km of each leg, as this is where I have full strength, so after the gybe I push as hard as I can to get ahead and then ease off a bit towards the end. It’s a strategy that seems to pay off checking those around me, but I end up in a similar position of 18th, so I’m not really sure if it was beneficial. One of the hardest things with the Défi is working out the good tactics. In slalom everyone is close and you can really see if heading upwind or downwind works. At the Défi you have no idea. I tried just about every different line between the buoys and honestly couldn’t work out which was the best.
FINAL PUSH Unbelievably the race crew decide to push for one final race in order to get a discard. It’s 17:00 on the final day and it seems crazy to me, but suddenly the countdown is on and everyone hits the water. The wind is dropping quickly and it’s clear that getting free of the pack is the priority.My start is fairly average and without the power I decide to bear off downwind and get some speed and hopefully find stronger wind out to sea. It seems to pay off and I quickly get clear of the pack and seem to have good power. I start to head back upwind a bit, but the harder I push, the more the wind turns and the more the wind drops. Suddenly it’s a 10km upwind struggle, which is absolute torture for my already destroyed body. I’m dying, but as soon as I ease off, the board points downwind and I know I will miss the mark. About 1km from the buoy I realize I am not going to make it, so tack and head back the other way into the stream of 1000 sailors charging towards me. At this point it becomes total carnage. The wind is now 15 knots, half the fleet are stationary and nobody can make the mark. I honestly thought I would never get home and have to walk, and was cursing the race crew. Eventually after 15 minutes more or less stationary I get a gust and pump 500 metres to get clear and find some clean air. As we get near the second gybe I am very relieved to see nobody coming back towards us, which means they either shortened the course or cancelled, which either way is a relief. It turns out to be the cancelled option, which I think favours me massively in the overall and sure enough I end up a very happy 13th.
The event was won by Nicolas Warembourg who absolutely dominated, winning every race. Apparently one of the races he was miles behind and kept pushing and pushing until he finally took the lead literally 100 metres from the end, which is just amazing. Apparently he has finished 2nd 2 or 3 times and was so motivated to win it he actually moved to the spot and trains there every day. He is a good PWA sailor as well, but clearly had one goal in mind and deservedly finally got his hands on the trophy.
It’s now 3 days later and still my body is recovering. 100km racing in one day in 40 knots is pretty tough, and as I said before it’s a fine line between fun and punishment. Still the sense of satisfaction is amazing and the fact that people come back year after year shows that this is much much more than just a windsurfing event. As we loaded the RRD van 2 Danish guys came to say hello. They were just leaving to drive home…. 2000km away!! Clearly the Défi is something very special!
