Jochen Rieker
· 21.11.2023
The Upper Austrian finished 44th twice on the two stages of this year's Mini-Transat from Les Sables-d'Olonne to La Palma and from La Palma to Guadeloupe. On the first stage, she was thrown back early on due to a break in the water stay. The queen's stage did not go according to plan for the likeable solo skipper either. We spoke to her last Friday, two days after arriving in the Caribbean, when she was already back on top.
Really, am I 45? Well, it doesn't matter!
It was ... unbelievable! I'd been looking forward to it the whole time like never before. The welcome was crazy, even in the canal. Lots of people cheered me on from their homes, there were fellow runners everywhere, people from the organisers in rubber dinghies. I was shaking so much ...! I couldn't even drink the rum, I was so excited. I've never experienced an arrival like that. I'll never forget that moment.
Certainly too. Yes!
I'm totally okay with it now. But I didn't feel well for a long time during the stage when I lost the connection. I wasn't able to enjoy my race. Everything was completely different to what I had imagined.
Technically, there was no reason for me to fall behind. My boat was running great. Only my autopilot didn't cope so well with the waves, which were very confused. That's why I switched to the code zero a few times instead of using the spinnaker, which certainly cost me a few places.
Perhaps it was also a mistake to formulate the top ten as a goal. Everyone wants it. And I dreamed of being right at the front, of course. But I always knew that my level wasn't the same as the best in the Mini class. Of course, I was convinced that anything is possible in such a long race.
Because I fell short of my self-imposed goal, I was also a little scared at times that I would disappoint expectations, not just my own, but also those of my sponsors - especially Trans-Ocean and Dimension-Polyant. I went through all kinds of emotions. Over time, I was able to categorise it quite well and arrived relatively calm.
Now I'm just proud that I made it"
Yes, you often forget that. A lot of people told me that at the finish - that it's so different the second time round.
To be honest, I was a bit scared of the squalls. That's why I sometimes switched to the code at night, which was good because I sometimes had 40 knots and strong wind shifts. But it was often unnecessary. I sailed too conservatively for too long because I was scared.
Now I would do it differently. I also became braver towards the end. But it was really intimidating at the beginning. You can't practise that anywhere beforehand. I actually thought I'd got the hang of jibing away from the squall and taking the wind with me. But one night the squalls were everywhere. I only got into the next one with every gybe. Oh, terrible! That really got some people down.
Yes, the waves were really crass. I sailed across the Atlantic six years ago as part of the ARC, on a larger boat with a crew. But we didn't have conditions like that. Either that's proof that you only remember the good things, or it was just different. We often just had chaos, hardly any regular Atlantic swell. I don't think there were so many sun shots on any mini-Transat. Everyone says that. I was actually always quite good at keeping the boat on course, but this time ...?!
I find it crazy that you somehow get used to everything, even that. Once I'd just laid down to sleep in my pyjamas when it put us on our side. So I got out and unfastened the sheet. And suddenly I'm sitting in a swimming pool because a wave has broken over us and flooded the whole cockpit. Weird, really, really weird!
We only had moderate seas when it was pelting down and the rain calmed the waves. In a squall with 39 knots of wind, I once surfed for a while on flat water at a speed of 14 or 15 knots, only under the main and genoa, because I had fortunately taken the spinnaker down beforehand! That was a bit spooky ...! You can get paranoid. But at some point you find that normal too. (Laughs)
A few times I've ridden a plug that was so violent that it lifted the stern out of the water, and then the wind just pushes you onto your side.
You can experience the sickest nosedives with it! It doesn't plunge into the wave like the Pogos, but it stops almost completely. You just stand up and think you're about to do a somersault. That's why it's easier to shoot into the wind, because the boat can only swerve to the side.
Hmm ... 75 per cent, I would say.
About 80, 85 per cent. The sections were very different. Everyone was looking forward to the second stage - it was supposed to be the reward for all the previous qualification, for all the effort, all the hurdles we had to overcome. But in the end, it wasn't what anyone had hoped for. We were really looking forward to the trade winds that we had already experienced south of Portugal on the first leg, with long, steady swells and a constant north-easterly. It was perfect. Nobody could have guessed that the royal stage would be so unsettled.
Yes, when we were gradually coming into the trade wind south-west of the Canary Islands, I got stuck in a lull for hours with eight other boats. I lost them all that night. I was very frustrated, almost depressed, for quite a long time actually.
I had thoughts like: Two, three years of preparation - and now I'm messing it up like this!"
I couldn't make the right tactical decision, so I headed south and then north again. And it was precisely during this time that Christian Dumard transmitted the weather information over shortwave for two days. And he never repeated it, he didn't use the radio alphabet, although we had asked him to do so before the start. So I had no proper information at a time when I needed it most. That really threw me off my stride and at some point I was 300 nautical miles behind the leaders.
I haven't even looked at the tracker yet, to be honest.
No! (Laughs) I already have another plan!
I had a chat with Boris Herrmann. He gave me some good tips. That was exactly what I needed today because I had lost my bearings a bit. I had a clear plan before the start; I wanted to continue in the Figaro class. But then I started to have doubts after the experience on the second stage. Boris helped me out of it. He's such a great guy! He knows exactly how you feel after a race like that. And I think I'll do the same as him.
I'll leave that out. He was only 19 years old at the time.
I think that would be something for me too. The Figaro class is an incredible training ground, but you can forget about the results for the time being. All you have at the beginning is stress and frustration. And I'm worried that it would take the joy out of it. It's probably better for me to stick to offshore sailing. I don't want to say any more yet. But I've felt so good since today, since the exchange with Boris. I have a new goal, and that's exactly what I needed.
That would be a dream. In any case, he's a huge role model for me. We haven't even met yet, but he's interested in how things are going with me and he often writes or sends me audio messages. I think that's so nice - really cool!
We have the same mental coach, Thomas Theurillat from OneDay. He has spoken to Boris about the Mini-Transat from time to time and also about me. And at some point two months ago, Boris got in touch with me and invited me to Lorient. Unfortunately, that didn't fit in with my preparations for the race at the time, so we've only been in contact via WhatsApp so far. When I crossed the finish line, he still had 1,500 nautical miles to go in the Transat Jacques Vabre. And then he enquired how I was doing! I hope we'll see each other soon when he's back in Europe. But he's already helped me more than he can probably imagine.