When I first heard about the Transat Jacques Vabre, like many Martinicans, it only vaguely rang a bell. But as I delved deeper, discovering this race became an opportunity to go back to school and learn about the history of coffee in Martinique, while participating in a unique sporting and human event.

Coffee: A Taste of History

As you may have guessed, the Transat Jacques Vabre is about sailing and coffee. Specifically, it is a race that follows the great coffee routes. Until very recently, it ended in Brazil. And for the first time, it ended in Martinique. So, I could have said that we revisited our history books to better understand the connection between coffee and Martinique. But in fact, the history of coffee in Martinique is a largely unknown and seldom-taught subject. As with many other local cultures, coffee is also marked by painful memories of slavery, which has created controversy around the hashtag #surlarouteducafé (on the coffee road). Our duty to remember makes us the guardians of our history.

If we now move away from painful memories, this challenging race, according to the skippers I met, has brought to my attention some facts that I was unaware of. For example, I discovered that in the 18th century, thanks to the coffee plan reintroduced in Le Prêcheur, many other strains of coffee were able to emerge in the Caribbean and Latin America. I also had the opportunity to follow more closely the work of CIRAD (International Cooperation Center for Agronomic Research for Development) and PNRM (Regional Natural Park of Martinique) which aim to revive this promising sector in Martinique. In fact, after two centuries of absence, the efforts of about ten local producers have given birth to a 100% Martinican coffee in limited edition. So limited, in fact, that I did not have the chance to taste it. To be continued.

The emotional edition

I’m not really capable of saying whether it’s the “first time” effect, or whether it’s because the race had to preserve the ecosystem in a highly tense social context, but what emotions! I had the chance to see the 79 crews start the race in Le Havre on November 7th. And to witness their arrival by day and by night in the most beautiful bay in the world (it’s not chauvinism, it’s absolutely true), after three weeks of waiting, is fabulous.

I had never seen an Ultime or an Ocean Fifty before. Nor an Imoca or a Class40, now that I think about it (now I can mention these categories of boats without stuttering). And the interest of this race, finally, one of the interests among so many others, is to be able to get up close to these exceptional boats, grandiose and fragile at the same time.

Although the finish line is closed, I still think of the hundred or so skippers who disembarked at the honor pontoon, worn out by the waves and with a smile on their faces. When I think that I get tired after ten minutes on a paddle. They deserved their magnum of champagne upon arrival!

The “Yole” and the “handi-voile” too !

Like the many schoolchildren who came to the arrival village of the Transat Jacques in Fort-de-France, I took pleasure in discovering the peculiarities and specificities of the four classes of sailboats entered in the race, and listening to the skippers talk about them.

The meeting between Damien Seguin, a skipper with a disability, and the handi-sailing racers of Club Le Neptune, also with disabilities, very humanely sums up how sporting values can bind us together. I had just as much pleasure delving into the world of the Transat Jacques as I did seeing the skippers discover our legendary vessel: the Yole ronde. It should be noted that this boat is now listed as an intangible cultural heritage by UNESCO.

Effort, perseverance, self-transcendence, kindness, and sharing – that’s what I take away from this coffee route, this transatlantic duo, and its very first arrival on our beautiful island. See you in two years.