The following is a letter addressed by Yvon Le Caer to Mr. Theo Schmidt, Editor of "Human Power" [International Human Powered Vehicle Association (IHPVA)].  The contents of said letter, dated November 7, 2002, illustrate quite well some of the many aspects and difficulties Yvon dealt with in preparation of his successful crossing of the Western English Channel, between Cherbourg and Poole, in September of 1985.

I certainly appreciated your email of October 24th, and somehow felt compelled to respond, as I believe that a certain understanding, if not bond, exists between people, like us two, who -- as commoners would likely say -- "do that sort of things", referring to odysseys/journeys like ours; journeys sometimes successful, sometimes not, but that is the name of the game, isn't it?  particularly when dealing with Mother Nature's mood and whim.

You may have had unsuccessful attempts across the Strait of Dover with various contraptions, but I still very much admire your spirit,  and if this is to make you feel better, I once failed too, across the Channel [between Cherbourg and Poole], losing not only to the weather and the seas, but also -- quite unexpectedly -- to....my escort vessel(!), which "sliced" 4 feet off the front-end of my seacraft, AQUACYCLE.  All of this, in the middle of the Channel, middle of the night, and....on my 22nd wedding anniversary, October 23, 1983.  Quite a night to remember, isn't it?

I meant to bring this "diversion" to your attention, because you seem to believe that I found success on my first attempt there.  I did not mention it before, as it was irrelevant in the context of the matter at issue.  However, I intend to elaborate on the subject when working on the material required by Bill Gaines, to get my 1985 Channel crossing recognized [after Guinness] by the IHPVA.

Talking "fitness" -- you brought this up in your email -- it goes without saying  that unless you are a confirmed, trained and super-fit -- physically and psychologically -- cyclist (with essential seamanship skills though), you do not consider, let alone undertake, such a long endeavor, or if you prefer to call it, ultra-marathon at sea.

In my case, one must bear in mind that I was a competitive cyclist, with a respectable earlier career in the sport of cycling, riding with the best professionals in the sport, and with such credentials, I knew quite well what my limits were and how to manage my effort....and life as well. 

In the early eighties, I was still riding an average of 15,000 miles a year, and during the few months preceding the 1985 crossing -- while in Cherbourg -- it was not unusual for me to ride 60 to 70 miles on the road in the morning, then ride AQUACYCLE for 2 or 3 hours in the afternoon, mainly in the "Grande Rade" of Cherbourg, since the weather and seas did not, unfortunately, allow many "excursions" in the open seas. 

Indeed, I knew well that only work, fitness and clairvoyance, coupled with optimum performance of my seacraft and....Mother Nature's "cooperation", would allow me to succeed.  In essence, I just did, in each area of concern, and with help of my wife Andrea, what I knew best and hoped, prayed for the best to happen!  I once read that: "Doing what you want is achievable if you set realistic goals and follow through".  Saying so true, in my case. 

I was not really better prepared in 1985 than I was in 1983, or 1981 for that matter, when I crossed the Florida Straits, but, looking back, I was -- because of the "83 disaster" -- wiser and undoubtedly better equipped, technically speaking that is.  Foremost, on the eve of my fiftieth birthday, I was determined and motivated like never before, yet knowing well, that with my body clock ticking, I would soon be running short of years [or time] for doing it the way I felt was best.

Before leaving Florida for Normandy, in May of 1985, I had just tested a brand new propulsion system, frame and rudder apparatus, achieving, at last, the level of seacraft efficiency I had been thriving for, all along.  The particularity of the propulsion system -- an all gear driven, totally independent propeller system/unit (with "pushing" and "pulling" mode options), complete with crank arms and pedals -- was, that [in case of malfunction or breakdown] it could be replaced at sea with very little loss of time.  For crossing the Channel in 1985, I opted for the "pulling" mode -- propeller upstream of the flow on the forward side of the "outdrive." 

While in Cherbourg, the prominent Chantiers Maritimes Amiot, now Chantiers Mecaniques de Normandie (CMN), not only kept an eye on the condition and maintenance of AQUACYCLE, but also provided the escort vessel and onboard router for the journey across the Channel.  The Mayor of Cherbourg, for his part, granted me shelter for the seacraft and escort assistance for all my water training sessions.  As to the French Marine Nationale, it was committed to tracking Operation coded "AQUACYCLE", assuming as well -- with the Brixham Coast Guard -- security coverage during the actual event, as we were going to cut across both shipping lanes, at night.

With no sponsor(s) covering the expense, I greatly appreciated, in 83 and 85 as well, the wonderful support of the entire local community [I was there best known as "the American"].  It was a rewarding human experience, particularly considering the fact that I had never set foot in Cherbourg, prior to September of 1982 when we, Andrea and I, took the ferry from Portsmouth to Cherbourg to "discover" the Channel route, I had already "chosen" for myself.  Believe it or not, it was "glassy" that day; in my case, an occurrence never to happen again!  It looked like Mother Nature was already taunting me!

Before closing on the technical aspect of the project, I must say that, given the particular nature of the challenge, my philosophy regarding the pedal seacraft development, not only called for an "upright" sleek and streamlined design, but also required the highest engineering, craftsmanship and quality construction, as to maximize performance, SPEED and reliability as well. 

In this regard, the expertise and craftsmanship of my long time Florida friends, John and Ted, were instrumental to the success of the operation.  In making me reach my technical/technological goals, they, both, allowed me, in reality, to link Cherbourg to Poole in 16 hours 42 minutes.  Again, traveling -- because of compelling tidal/current(s) conditions and course corrections -- 92 miles (148 kms), for a straight-line distance of 75 miles (120 kms).  Foremost, in seeking and achieving performance and speed, I avoided a long "ordeal" at sea.  "Do it well and do it quick" was indeed my motto; yet, with an ensuing reservation: "....Mother Nature willing!"

Speaking of ordeal, it was one for Gerard Laurent in September 1999, as it took him 31 hours to pedal the 75 miles (120 Kms) -- true course distance -- between the Isle of Wight, off the British coast, and St. Vaast-la-Hougue, on the Cotentin Peninsula of Normandy, riding Shuttle bike.  And what about Scott Bonnar, the Englishman, who, despite living in Poole, has had three unsuccessful attempts in four years, between Poole and Cherbourg.  Enter his website:  www.bycoo.co.uk ; click "History", then "News"; it's quite interesting to read it all.

Well, until now, I have mainly spoken about the "physical" and "technical" aspects, but, aside from referencing Mother Nature a couple of times, I have not said much on the subject of the weather over the region and the Channel in particular.

Of course, how could anyone -- when speaking of the Channel -- not associate the weather, the winds, the extreme tidal ranges, and currents and fog as well, which, altogether, cause that legendary roughness that you and I have personally experienced too well. 

While aware of the unpredictability of the weather there [we did not have 20 years ago the technology, nor the satellite imagery that we do have now], I was unprepared, in 1983 particularly, for what the French call "un ete pourri" (a rotten summer); condition which, since not showing sufficient improvement to authorize any attempts, literally paralyzed me for weeks, months, and forced me to adopt a day-to-day "wait and see" attitude.  

Thus explaining my last minute "desperate" attempt to get through on that fateful day of....October 23rd, 1983 (too late in the year).  I had been assured by France Meteo, in Paris, of a short 15-hour "break" in the weather and I went for it.  Unfortunately, in moving in faster than announced, the front caught up with me, in the middle of the Channel and at night.  As aforesaid, I lost then my first battle with the Channel. 

Since you went across the Strait of Dover in 1985, I am sure that you had to comply with some regulations too, but as far as I am concerned, the orders, I received from the Prefecture Maritime - Premiere Region, were rather strict:  "No attempt is to be undertaken if visibility is under 3 miles and wind in excess of 20 knots".  I vividly recall a "scratched" departure, in September of l983, when I was denied "the green light" by the Marine Nationale, because of the sudden arrival of heavy fog banks; although AQUACYCLE was already waiting in the water and the "crossing party" attending the last briefing.

In 1985, despite another "rotten" summer, I guess I was a bit luckier after all.  After arriving in Normandy in May, with crossing targeted for early July, I finally got my break (not the best one though) on September 9th.  Although the weather conditions were not the best, I "came out of the starting gate like a bullet", leaving Cherbourg for Poole at dusk.  The rest is HISTORY:  I MADE IT THROUGH THIS TIME, in a time that will be broken someday, but still stands....17 years later.

However, my actual 85 journey across the Channel is another chapter altogether; let us not get into this now.

Then came l986.  In being seriously injured after being struck by a hit-and-run driver while training on the road on Key Biscayne Island, near Miami, I was sidelined for months.  Then, professional commitments took over ... for many years ... and until a few months ago, when I suddenly "woke up" to water cycling matters, after finding myself with more time at hand.  Strange awakening though, with the help of my new tool:  the Internet.

Above all, I realize now (and please tell me if I am wrong) that the sport has not really progressed much, technically/technologically speaking that is, and I was truly and especially surprised by John Howard's 24-hour watercycling world record of 104.6 miles.  In my judgment, and "in doing the math", it is not such an outstanding performance, particularly considering the fact that his "run" was done on a lake, in a "friendly environment", in year 2000, and with access to a technology and construction materials far superior to those made available to me in the early eighties ... twenty years ago! 

It almost looks as if my 20-year old AQUACYCLE would still be competitive in our present days.

In concluding, I hope that I was thorough in shedding some light on several aspects of my endeavor(s) across the Channel.  I tried to summarize as much as I could, but this is very difficult since the subject entails so much.

Perhaps, we will be in touch again.

Regards,

Yvon Le Caer