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 re-

minder 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 sur-

vived such a traumatic adventure was not im-

mediate until several weeks afterwards when I

noticed slight changes in my behavior and con-

sciousness. I also realized that I survived not

only because of my excellent physical condition

but also thanks to pure luck.

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 re-

cently, a solid level 7a rock climber. The will to

excel in sports, motivation, stamina, and stub-

bornness have always been among my

strengths.

A few years ago I was diagnosed with Parkin-

son’s disease. Most people, myself included at

the time, think of Parkinson’s as an older

person’s disease because less than ten percent

of sufferers are diagnosed before age 50. Par-

kinson’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 re-

strictions 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 commu-

nity.

I decided to go to the island of Mauritius, lo-

cated 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 unpre-

dictable 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 kilometers south

of La Gaulette, in the southwest of Mauritius.

Beyond the lagoon is the ocean and in between

is a channel with a deceptively strong riptide

(the biggest hazard for water sports). Carrier in

rhythm by the high and low tide, the riptide in

the channel can be very strong and is nearly in-

visible. Just beyond the channel is the world-fa-

mous surfing spot of One Eye, known for espe-

cially 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 aera. I saw the waves of Manawa and One

Eye from a respectful distance. On some days

the waves were so impressive that I heeded ex-

treme precaution ever to venture near them.

You can find more information about risks in

the well documented websites [1] and [2].

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 liters

board, and my Neil Pryde 3D harness. I was

wearing an ION shorty neoprene.

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.

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 meters

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 to-

wards Chameaux. I was not yet so worried and

tried to make proper water-starts despite the

sudden lack of wind. It was only when I was ten

meters 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 equip-

ment and to quickly escape from this treacher-

ous situation. I was using every inch of my be-

ing 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-meter 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 en-

tering back into the Kite Lagoon at Chameauxor 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 kilometers 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 com-

pressed, energy is released at the surface mak-

ing the waves higher and unpredictable at the

exit of the lagoon than in any other area. In this

zone, waves several meters 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 experi-

ence a moonless night and I would have no

chance to see anything, as the sky and the wa-

ter 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, uncom-

fortably 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. Alt-

hough 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 im-

possible 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 en-

trance of the channel to try to find a way to en-

ter the Kite Lagoon. By this time, I was dehy-

drated 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 en-

trance 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 pan-

demic 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 faith-

ful friends, Susan and Romain to find me, were

soul wrenching. But giving up was not an op-

tion.

Unfortunately, I was paddling blindly in the

moonless night and could see absolutely noth-

ing. My sense of hearing became acute and I

began to gauge the size and position of the

waves by the sound they made when theycrashed 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 meter high

waves that were breaking right on me ap-

peared 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 ap-

proximately two hours of normal controlled

movements before having serious difficulties.

But the level of anxiety and adrenaline I was ex-

periencing in my fight for survival demanded

that my body produces enough natural dopa-

mine 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 south-west of home and the

ocean was finally more calm

My struggles to reenter 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 alterna-

tive 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 reenter 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 a imaginary sense of security

from those wild animals. My strategy either

worked or I was just lucky, as I did not see a sin-

gle sharks that night, despite feeling their pres-

ence with every pain staking stroke.

22:00, I can not 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 wait-

ing 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 partici-

pating in sports hit me like an epiphany; Moti-

vation 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 savior, without

which I am sure I would have lost my will to

keep going. With its GPS navigation technol-

ogy, it showed me in real time the exact dis-

tance I was making; with 70% battery still left it

indicated 10.8 kilometers to reach La Gaulette.

The ocean was calm here and I decided to head

to the north-east.

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 vi-

sion 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 proba-

bly at its lowest point, but I was unable to pad-

dle 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 be-

hind 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 intui-

tion, 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 sur-

prised 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 hur-

ried to avoid the next wave. But I needed only

to swim only a few meters 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 be-

hind 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 starv-

ing.

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

sitt ing in the dark in front of a beach hotel rec-

ognized 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, Ro-

main, 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

coast guards 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 curios-

ity and awe. They treated me with high respect

without once questioning me why I went out

windsurfing during lock down. But later in the

night I would be officially accused of breaching

the curfew.

Fortunately or unfortunately, my Suunto ap-

parently 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 per-

son in southern Mauritius, a great honor for a

foreigner coming from a mountainous, land-

locked country.

Today, three months later, I am still awaiting

authorization to fly back to Mauritius and go

windsurfing with Romain and Eric. Susan re-

turned to Ireland.

• Carefully check your equipment before

going out

Take with you:

• Fully charged mobile phone. 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