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LOST AT SEA – A WINDSURFER’S STORY

23/12/2020
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Cédric Dejean, 51, shares a cautionary tale of surviving being at sea in the dark in Le Morne, Mauritius, for over 6 hours after the wind dropped. Cedric will be the first to admit that his predicament was not helped by the fact that he broke some fundamental safety rules, and he has kindly shared his story here for others to learn from, and it is an even more remarkable tale of survival, given that Cedric has Parkinson’s disease!

Cédric Dejean. – “Thank you Susan, Romain, Eric and Gaz my dear friends. Without you, I would not be here. A very big thank you to my old friends Noreen, Nyree and Jess who edited my English. Here is my story of of surviving against all odds; a windsurfer’s tale of being lost at sea.

No one would ever want to be lost at sea. Such an extreme and devastating situation happens to very few. Most survivors remain deeply scarred by such an incredible, life-threatening experience. Being lost at sea is a harsh reminder that life is a beautiful gift. And this gift, if you are not paying close attention, can be easily lost. For me, the realization that I survived such a traumatic adventure was not immediate until several weeks afterwards when I noticed slight changes in my behaviour and consciousness. I also realized that I survived not only because of my excellent physical condition but also thanks to pure luck.

cedric dejean

At fifty-one years old, I have experienced and helped others in many treacherous situations in the outdoors and the mountains of my home country of Switzerland. I am still an excellent snowboarder and mountain biker and, until recently, a solid level 7a rock climber. The will to excel in sports, motivation, stamina, and stubbornness have always been among my strengths.

A few years ago I was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease. Most people, myself included at the time, think of Parkinson’s as an older person’s disease because less than ten per cent of sufferers are diagnosed before age 50. Parkinson’s disease affects the nerve cells in the substantia nigra part of the brain where the neurotransmitter, dopamine, is produced. As the nerve cells die, dopamine levels in the brain decrease leading to, as in my case, serious restrictions in motor function that essentially cause paralysis. For me, the early onset was not only unusual, but also a horrific shock. I have since come to rely heavily on prescription medications without which I would be unable to even stand on a board. It therefore became apparent to me that by doing extreme sports, like windsurfing, I would be able to increase my muscle mass and fight the symptoms much better. My ability to learn such a complex sport makes me unique in the Parkinson’s community.

I decided to go to the island of Mauritius, located in the Indian Ocean off the east coast of Africa, as a form of self-therapy and to improve my windsurfing skills. This is where my story begins. My hope for anyone reading this—windsurfers, kiters, and anyone participating in ocean sports and activities— is to remember what I lived through and to remind people of how unpredictable the ocean can be. I am convinced that getting lost at sea can be avoided when proper precautions are taken. Moreover, this story shows that sheer determination can create enough adrenaline to bring one’s body to a level of strength to overcome even the most unimaginable obstacles.

The Location – Le Morne
The Kite Lagoon is located 5 kilometres south of La Gaulette, in the southwest of Mauritius. Beyond the lagoon is the ocean and  between is a channel with a deceptively strong riptide (the biggest hazard for water sports). The riptide in the channel can be very strong and is nearly invisible. Just beyond the channel is the world-famous surfing spot of One Eye, known for especially fast strong waves. Any activity in this area requires extreme caution and expertise.

During my three months stay in La Gaulette I became relatively familiar with windsurfing in this area. I saw the waves of Manawa and One Eye from a respectful distance. On some days the waves were so impressive that I heeded extreme precaution ever to venture near them.

The Day: 27th of May 2020

It was a quiet winter’s day during the Covid-19 pandemic. The wind in the Kite Lagoon was blowing at eighteen knots and the sky was clear and sunny. I came to the beach with my friend Susan, from Ireland, after convincing her that it was worth going windsurfing despite the stay-at-home orders. I was equipped with my 5m2 Duotone Hero sail, my Fanatic Grip TE 82 litres board, and my Neil Pryde 3D harness. I was wearing an ION  neoprene shorty.

I was also wearing a Suunto Spartan sport watch with GPS navigation features. Luckily, the battery was fully charged and I had logged in the coordinates of my home in La Gaulette. I did not know it at the time but these details and this watch would come to be an invaluable lifesaver. The following is my true adventure.

 

Le Morne in Mauritius with the lagoon (top middle) and the various surfing spots along the barrier of corals. The red line after the blue dot is an approximation of the route I took between 6:00 pm and after midnight. The route before the blue dot beside Chameaux has been registered in my Suunto.

16:00, the critical mistake

I had been windsurfing for just over an hour. I was planing downwind and was excited by the speed, when suddenly I realized I went too close to the exit of the lagoon. I missed my jibe and ended up at the wrong place, a few metres away from usual. Immediately I was pulled by a strong current and caught in a riptide exactly at the exit of the lagoon dragging me out into the open ocean at alarming speed.

Susan, became a pinprick in the distance and soon after completely faded from sight. I could clearly see the line of coconut trees passing by rapidly. I passed the first Inner Reef, then Little Reef; with the riptide veering slightly to the right side of the channel, in the direction towards Chameaux. I was not yet so worried and tried to make proper waterstarts despite the sudden lack of wind. It was only when I was ten metres behind the waves of Chameaux that I started to realize I was in serious trouble. The wind was still too weak for me to use my equipment and to quickly escape from this treacherous situation. I was using every inch of my being to paddle against the current in order to avoid being caught in these waves. Having spent time surfing in Hossegor, France, I had witnessed the beauty and savagery behind three-metre high waves in windy conditions. Such special moments always struck me as amazing opportunities to see the beauty of the ocean from this angle. I know from experience the safe distance to keep between one’s self and the waves.

I evaluated the level of danger involved in entering back into the Kite Lagoon at Chameaux or One Eye as being high. The sound of the waves was very impressive. I did not want to imagine the conditions during big swells and strong winds. I then decided to paddle west and thereafter a few kilometres north to look for smaller waves and better luck.

The reef empties during low tide, and this huge amount of water flows into the open ocean with extreme force. As water cannot be compressed, energy is released at the surface making the waves higher and more unpredictable at the exit of the lagoon than in any other area. In this zone, waves several metres high repeatedly broke directly onto my head. The forces were so extreme that I had major difficulties holding onto my board. It was an impressive display of the power of nature during the daylight hours, but in a few short hours’ time, I would experience a moonless night and I would have no chance to see anything, as the sky and the water would turn to pitch black.

17:00, I am right on Chameaux

The only thing I could think of doing was to try to find my way back by retracing the same route from which I came. I was laying on my board, with the rig dragged on the side, uncomfortably trying to paddle in the direction of Kite Lagoon. I was still convinced that I would be able to use the power of the wind to windsurf and escape from what was starting to become a nightmare.

17:30, in the middle of the channel

It was getting seriously dark, when I suddenly realized that I had lost the outhaul’s rope. Although I still had my mast foot’s rope, I had no knife to cut a length of it off to use as an interim outhaul’s rope. The rough surface of the board did not provide enough friction to cut through the rope, though I did try. The sail was useless now and more important, it was virtually impossible to paddle with.

 

18:00, throw your rig and start paddling

It was already dark with only one hour left of moonlight. I threw away my rig, keeping my harness and my board. Minus the extra drag of the rig I could now move much faster which made going against the current much easier than before.

I started to hurry and paddle back to the entrance of the channel to try to find a way to enter the Kite Lagoon. By this time, I was dehydrated with an unquenchable thirst that left the inside of my mouth very salty.

19:30, rescue boat cannot find you in the open ocean

I was still turning in rounds between Manawa and the other waves, trying to find the entrance of the lagoon, when suddenly I saw the rescue boats. There was no question that these were rescue boats as not one single boat was otherwise allowed outside during this pandemic confinement. I saw they were looking for something using a bright light in front of them, sweeping the ocean. I spent a long time trying to get the Coast Guard’s and other boat’s attention. Unfortunately, they did not see me. I started to think of my fisherman friend telling me about the number of sharks seen outside the reef and of the number of deadly attacks in La Reunion, situated just 200 km away which only increased my wish to get out of this water as fast as possible.

20:00, paddle out of this mess

My futile attempts to signal the rescue boat of the Coast Guard or the private boat of my faithful friends, Susan and Romain to find me, were soul wrenching. But giving up was not an option.

Unfortunately, I was paddling blindly in the moonless night and could see absolutely nothing. My sense of hearing became acute and I began to gauge the size and position of the waves by the sound they made when they crashed relentlessly into the black abyss of the ocean.

A short distance away from One Eye, the ocean was relatively quiet, but the current was too strong to conquer. The ocean was changing drastically by the minute. The three metre high waves that were breaking right on me appeared like giant black mountains testing my stamina and nerves. I took my last Parkinson medication. In normal circumstances I would have still had enough motor control left for approximately two hours of normal controlled movements before having serious difficulties. But the level of anxiety and adrenaline I was experiencing in my fight for survival demanded that my body produces enough natural dopamine to keep me mobile. I had to figure out where I was and find some landmarks. I set my Suunto to compass mode. The distance between me and La Gaulette was 7.8 km, and I was close to Chameaux.

21:30, 10.8 km southwest of home and the ocean was finally more calm

My struggles to re-enter the lagoon in the dark without perfect knowledge of the area was a losing battle. After many attempts to find the entrance I realized that I had to find an alternative to retracing my original route. With this new goal in mind I made a strategic decision to go out into the open ocean to find quietness and regain my strength hoping to then paddle around the current and to re-enter Kite Lagoon from another angle.

I started to paddle westward. I was checking my watch every 30 seconds trying to keep proper direction. The distance between me and La Gaulette was increasing.

My arms and my legs were raw and bleeding from the friction of their movement against the rough surface of the board, the perfect bait to attract those wild animals. Naïvely perhaps, I thought that a shark would not attack directly what he has never seen, so I decided to turn the light of my watch to permanent mode, trying not to think about the precious battery this would drain. Each movement of my arm made a lightshow into the blackness of the ocean, which gave me an imaginary sense of security from those wild animals. My strategy either worked or I was just lucky, as I did not see a single sharks that night, despite feeling their presence with every painstaking stroke.

22:00, I cannot see the island anymore

I paddled southwesterly out into the open ocean, expending precious energy. After about half an hour of continuous paddling I felt the ocean was calm. Looking behind me, I could not see the island anymore. I was completely alone in the vast expanse of the open ocean.

By this stage I had been battling the ocean for six painstaking hours fighting to stay stable on my board. My shoulders and my arms were very heavy and my mental energy had reached an all-time low, I was losing my motivation, I was losing the will to keep on going. I wrapped my arms tightly around my board and laid my chin down. I contemplated giving up and waiting for daybreak, hoping for someone to rescue me. Immediately I had visions of sharks down below lurking at my succulent skin-shredded arms.

I started to seriously wonder if it would even be possible for a rescue team to locate me now that I was so far away from the island.

What I had learned in my experience participating in sports hit me like an epiphany; Motivation is the key to success. I kept repeating at short intervals in my head, and even yelling as if someone could hear me, “it’s all in your mind Cédric. You can do this easily”.

I had to keep a very high level of motivation, forget painful muscles and wounds, forget the exhaustion, forget the anxiety and feeling of hopelessness and concentrate on paddling for a few more hours.

My Suunto was my ultimate saviour, without which I am sure I would have lost my will to keep going. With its GPS navigation technology, it showed me in real time the exact distance I was making; with 70% battery still left it indicated 10.8 kilometres to reach La Gaulette. The ocean was calm here and I decided to head to the northeast.

23:30, I can see lights

After so many hours of painstaking paddling, my knees and the insides of my arms were on fire. But I forgot the pain immediately when I saw glimpses of a few lights from a hotel on the beach. Most of the time I was still faced with complete darkness due to the frequency of the waves obscuring all sense of light. I stopped paddling many times to listen to the sound of the waves, trying to estimate their position and size and finally find an entry in the reef.

23:55, I enter the reef

The noise of the waves around L’Ambulante was not as loud as I remembered when I was close to Chameaux and One Eye a few hours earlier. It was time to take a chance, the chance to find land again.

My eyes were burning from the salty water, so harshly that I almost could not keep them open. By this point, obscurity was total and vision was useless. The hours of exposure to the salty water had also irritated my tongue to such an extent that I was no longer able to open my mouth.

Entering the reef under a blanket of complete darkness was epic. I knew the tide was probably at its lowest point, but I was unable to paddle any faster. There was a huge risk of the waves picking me up and smashing me full force into the hard, sharp corals.

I could not hear the silent wave sneaking up behind me, so when it picked me up and I felt that I was reaching the wave’s peak, I immediately started to fall headfirst towards the dangerous corals. With a split-second moment of intuition, I pushed the board in front of me and grabbed the strap with my left hand. Under no circumstances did I want to lose my board so close to my goal. When I fell into the water, my foot only slightly grazed the coral. I was surprised to find it so deep; this could only mean that I was on the very edge of the reef. I was still holding my board with my left hand.

As soon as my head was out of the water, I hurried to avoid the next wave. But I needed only to swim only a few metres to realize that the water was at the level of my ankles. I was safe again into the lagoon.

Then started what felt like the longest part of the harrowing experience – I still had to swim to the beach. In many places around this part of the lagoon, the water was not as calm as behind the waves and I had to fight against a small riptide before getting closer to the beach.

My heart was lighter with every second. A few lights from the hotel on the beach were getting clearer and were reflecting on the dark ocean. I was saying to myself “Congratulations Cédric, you made it!”. I was exhausted and I was starving.

28th of May, 00:15, I am standing on the beach

It was no more than a few meters from the beach that I could finally stand. Trying to walk after so many hours of being horizontal on my board in water was horrifically painful. A man sitting in the dark in front of a beach hotel recognized me immediately as being the foreigner who had been lost at sea. I was finally safe.

The adrenaline, mixed with a deep feeling of freedom was overwhelming and reached its maximum when I finally saw my friends, Romain, Susan, and Eric. They probably could not see in the dark but I was crying from joy to see their faces again.

Then many cars belonging to the police and the coastguards arrived immediately on the beach. Most of them could not believe I arrived on my own, alive after so much time in the open ocean. I believe they looked at me with curiosity and awe. They treated me with high respect without once questioning me why I went out windsurfing during lockdown. But later in the night I would be officially accused of breaching the curfew.

Fortunately or unfortunately, my Suunto apparently was damaged and subsequently never started again. Thankfully it waited for me to get home. I could not sleep the entire two nights following my adventure. Somehow, I was feeling excited to be alive and not wanting to waste any time. For a few days I became the most famous person in southern Mauritius, a great honour for a foreigner coming from a mountainous, land-locked country.

The lesson:

Windsurfing is considered as an extreme sport and implies some risks. The common understanding of safety at sea is largely described on the internet. The lists below are non-exhaustive.

  • Don’t start too late your session
  • Never go sailing alone
  • Don’t go too far out
  • Take something to signal your presence
  • Take at least a mobile phone even though most of the time there’s no mobile phone coverage at sea
  • Check the weather forecast before every session
  • Carefully check your equipment before going out

Take with you:

  • Fully charged mobile phone, though a mobile phone is not a personal locator beacon.
  • A piece of rope
  • A whistle
  • Hand flares
  • A neoprene suit. This will save your life from hypothermia
  • Some drinking water to avoid dehydration

Remember that everything happens quickly and the chance of having my luck is highly unlikely. For those who love you, the loss or disappearance of a friend or relative at sea is a heavy burden to bear.

… never leave your board!

Cédric Dejean.”

Editor’s note – Le Morne Mauritius is widely and rightly recognised as one of the best places to windsurf, for all levels, and is perfect for learning and improving in its fantastic lagoon and inside its reefs, but beyond that it does have some dangers like all open water locations. The excellent Ion Club windsurf centre there has a dedicated rescue boat for its customers and its staff can help explain when, where and where not to sail – https://www.ion-club.net/le-morne/windsurf-rental/

The RNLI have some great safety information here – https://rnli.org/-/media/rnli/downloads/on-the-beach-rnli-beach-safety-advice-english-version.pdf – and in their windsurfing section from the link above, list some safety fundamentals –

ALWAYS:

• carry a means of calling for help and keep it within reach

• check your equipment for damage before use

• tell someone where you’re going and when you’ll be back

• check the weather forecast and tide times

• consider other water users – learn surf etiquette and rights of way

• launch and recover between the black and white flags

• wear a suitable approved buoyancy aid.

NEVER:

• go alone

• sail in offshore winds without safety boat cover

• get on the water in conditions above your capability

• ditch your board − it will keep you afloat in an emergency and make you easier to find

• leave without a signalling or communication device.

The RNLI is the charity that saves lives at sea. If you wish to donate to the RNLI – click here – https://rnli.org/support-us/give-money/donate

 

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