“Lonely voyagers” by Jean Merrien

Olivier Peretie
Culture
Double page spread from the second edition (1954), with a photo of the "Quatre Vents", Marcel Bardiaux's cutter that featured on the cover of the first edition!
Both a historian's compilation and a sailor's story, the saga of the solo ocean crossing pioneers has captivated a wide audience and inspired many others to follow in their wake.

Viral best seller

In January 1953, Éditions Denoël published a book simply titled: “Les Navigateurs Solitaires” or “Lonely Voyagers”. The title was displayed in red capital letters on the black-and-white photo of a cutter with low freeboard and fluttering sails, passing beneath the cliffs of a sugar-loaf mountain. Inquisitive readers could recognize the boat, as well as the stout silhouette of the sailor leaning toward the back of his cockpit. This was Marcel Bardiaux, captured in this photo when he arrived in Rio de Janeiro. The mainstream press had illustrated articles about his rounding of Cape Horn, a groundbreaking achievement at the time, with this picture. And a feat, for a determined sailor venturing around the world on board his modest sailboat “Les Quatre Vents”. 

The name of the author, shown above the book’s title, was not unknown at the time. Jean Merrien had achieved critical acclaim with his first novel, published in 1938. Several of his other fictions had gained recognition and even won awards.

The author, 33, was born in the Paris region, but Breton to his core. His actual name was René de La Poix de Fréminville. He adopted the pseudonym Merrien out of love for a small ria in southern Finistère whose branches open up between Concarneau and Lorient. It was also due to his passion for the sea, to which he would devote a large part of his prolific literary work, including detective novels (under various pseudonyms), historiographies and monographs, coastal guides, and educational books. 

Cover of the second edition in a single volume, 1957

Directory of the impossible

With his strong personality, solid culture and true writing talent, Jean Merrien had sailed extensively. He had never crossed the oceans. However, he became passionate about the “birds of the open sea”, as Bernard Moitessier called them. These early solo deep-sea sailors were always audacious, often reckless, and sometimes insane. Mostly enriched by their extreme deprivation, these men and a few women dared to navigate alone across all the world’s seas from the second half of the 19th century. 

A meticulous investigator, Merrien soon discovered that these crazy sailors were far more numerous than he initially imagined. That is why, within one year of publishing his book, he added a second volume with an evocative title: “Aux limites du possible” (At the limits of what is possible). These stories of real-life adventures were such a success that Denoël decided to republish them in 1957, in a single volume duly entitled “Les Navigateurs Solitaires” (Lonely voyagers). 

Its ultimate recognition came when the Livre de Poche published the book in the 1960s as an affordable edition. Which is somewhat surprising for a compilation of stories about the sea. But first and foremost, this is about opening up access, reviewing a collection of unimaginable exploits, like a directory of the impossible.

Cover of the second volume of the first edition (1954): "Aux limites du possible"

Follies and weaknesses

Merrien is wonderfully adept at making his work accessible to non-specialist readers. While not hesitating to make blunt assessments and judge, even gauge, the follies or weaknesses of the extraordinary characters that fascinate him. There is no panegyric or hagiography in his pages. Instead, there are remarks from both a sailor and a historian.

He particularly detests inaccuracies that immediately arouse doubts. Regarding Bardiaux, for example, he writes in volume II of the first edition, which will earn him some harsh remarks from Bardiaux himself: “We know (…) that he went to Cape Horn in the middle of winter. An almost unique, barely believable feat. The first account he gave was not very clear”. This is followed by a paragraph of verifications, which ultimately acknowledges that the man not only “went”, but indeed crossed the terrible Cape, concluding with these words: “(…) The thing is even more admirable”.

This is nothing compared to his comments, remarks, mockeries and criticisms of Alain Gerbault. Long before Moitessier or Tabarly, this polytechnic student, tennis champion and bridge expert was the public’s quintessential French solo sailor. The first who, in 1923, dared to cross the Atlantic alone and non-stop, from Gibraltar to New York, before continuing his journey around the world. 

The least that can be said is that Merrien is not kind to this hero. He does not forgive his exaggerations, his pompous tone or his inaccuracies in his accounts, nor the unprepared nature of his boat, the famous Fire Crest. Even less so the blunders, errors and clumsiness of someone who was not – yet – a great sailor. Not even a sailor at all, in the eyes of the relentless critic. Who nonetheless acknowledges his merit in captivating the general public and inspiring amateur sailors to dream of great voyages.

Merrien’s book ignited the imagination of his readers, whether knowledgeable or not, and inspired many to take to the seas over the following years, a decade before Tabarly’s victory in the English Transatlantic Race shifted France’s attention to the sea. His “written documentary” reads like a novel, with the peculiarity that here, reality constantly surpasses fiction.

Restructured compilation

The story could have begun with JM Crenson, whom Merrien presents as the first “certain” solo sailor. He sailed from New Bedford, near Boston, to San Francisco aboard the 12.30m cutter Tocca in 1849, although details of this pioneer’s journey are scarce. So, Merrien simply mentions him first in the “updated list of pleasure sailors who have made, single- or double-handed, major confirmed crossings” as it appears at the end of the second volume of the first edition. This list runs for no less than 16 pages!

In reality, to simplify his work and probably give it more rigor, Merrien structured his book differently when it was reissued in a single volume. After a fascinating introduction (alas less rich than that of the first version), the book was divided into five major parts: 1/ First crossings of the Atlantic from America. 2/ Atlantic crossings from Europe and motor crossings. 3/ The Pacific. 4/ the Indian Ocean. 5/ The circumnavigators: Slocum the pioneer, Pidgeon, Drake, Alain Gerbault, Miles, Erling Tambs and his family, Commander Bernicot, Vito Dumas, J.Y. Le Toumelin, Murnan, Petersen, Jean Gau, Bardiaux, Hans Zitt and J.E. Schultz. Conclusion.

In comparison, “Aux Limites du Possible”, published three years earlier, was organized very differently. Following a fascinating preamble covering “Fear, weakness, boredom” – introducing readers to the torments of solo sailing – the first section is dedicated to “The French Pleiad”, featuring the round-the-world sailors Jean Gau and Marcel Bardiaux, and the astonishing Bernard Moitessier, who completed an epic crossing of the Indian Ocean. They are followed by British sailors, including Ann Davison, the only woman of her time to have completed a solo ocean crossing. 

A second section titled “The Despite Everything” reviews the incredible voyages of daredevils like Gilboy, Schultz, Romer or Vito Dumas, all ocean enthusiasts, authors of astounding exploits considering the resources and boats available to them. A third section titled “Lonely voyagers despite themselves, shipwreck survivors” mainly covers stories of survival and ends with Alain Bombard’s achievement of crossing the Atlantic on an inflatable dinghy with a basic sail but no water or food supplies!

Double page spread from the second volume of the first edition (1954) with photos of Lehg II, the boat in which Vito Dumas completed the first circumnavigation of the globe via the Roaring Forties.

In the wake of giants

To tell the truth, it seems that the pioneers of ocean crossings were barely better off than Bombard. Consider Alfred Johnson, the first person to dare cross the Atlantic without any other crew. He set off from Gloucester, Massachusetts, aboard a cod fishing dory. These open boats, which were stacked on the decks of large schooners, were designed to never lose sight of their mother ship, were neither decked nor ballasted, and were propelled by oars. Nevertheless, Johnson built a false deck with a few planks, loaded some iron pigs as ballast, and fixed a makeshift mast to carry his sails. And with this aptly named “frail skiff”, which was 5 meters long, he became the first to shrink the Atlantic to the size of an inlet that one person could cross alone. For this, he needed just 46 days. This was in 1876.

Johnson inspired others, who were at least as optimistic as he was, to follow in his wake. One crossed with a river flatboat, another aboard a 4.50 meter “mud-scow”. Yet another, the indomitable Howard Blackburn, penned a magnificent saga lasting 38 days. It was not so much the duration of the crossing that was remarkable, but the fact that this man had only stumps at the ends of his arms. This fisherman from the Grand Banks had lost his fingers to frostbite in a winter storm.

Brought into this world where the impossible is an everyday thing and the miraculous is routine, Merrien’s readers are ready to discover the exploits of a Gilboy or a Rebell across the vast expanse of the Pacific. The first, lacking provisions, water and navigation instruments aboard his tiny craft measuring six meters by two, was rescued, utterly exhausted, just 420 miles from his goal of Australia, following a journey of 6,500 miles and 164 days from San Francisco. So, he was deprived of the glory that a “true” transpacific voyage would have brought him. This was in 1882. Four years later, the second, stuck penniless in Australia, aimed to reach California. He found a 5m dinghy hull, added a makeshift keel, a vague tent canvas, and a rigged mast. Then he crafted his precision instruments from scrap materials, including a sextant, essential for navigation. Do we need to add that he knew next to nothing about sailing, took on board just a few used manuals and learned the rest on the fly? If he had known that he would have to battle the trade winds for weeks, would he have given up? Certainly not! 

Next come the circumnavigators, such as the admirable Captain Joshua Slocum, the pioneer who completed the first solo circumnavigation and crossed the treacherous Strait of Magellan in 1896. Or the indomitable Argentine Vito Dumas, who dared to circumnavigate the globe through the hellish storms of the Roaring Forties, at the height of the Second World War, despite all sorts of challenges and shortages.

In the 1960s in France, any adventurer looking to earn their sailor’s stripes needed to have read these three essential books: “Glénans Manual of Sailing”; “Heavy Weather Sailing”, the extraordinary collection of stories of storms by the English writer Adlard Coles; and “Lonely Voyages” by Jean Merrien.

Although it reflects a completely different era, Merrien’s bible is packed with information that is still highly valuable today. All of these stories continue to be perfectly inspiring for those daring to venture across the oceans, following in the wake of giants.

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