Immediately after arriving in France, YACHT editor Morten Strauch was allowed on board the "Minnehaha" and spoke to Kirsten Neuschäfer about her triumph
Kirsten, eight months of loneliness and now all the media hype. You don't actually like being in the spotlight, do you? Did you even have a Moitessier moment (the book is on the shelf, editor's note) and would have preferred to turn round and sail on?
Yes, I had Moitessier moments when I thought it would be difficult to come back. I knew what it was like in Les Sables at the starts and finishes. Being at the centre and having so many people around me is not really my thing. On the other hand, the people in Les Sables are so enthusiastic that I get carried away. I don't want to let people down either. They are so full of energy and perseverance in waiting to welcome you - you have to feel very honoured. But now I've been back on land for two days, I've only slept for six hours in total and I'm starting to realise that I'm getting tired. But it's very nice. My mum, my uncle and friends have travelled here, which of course makes me very happy. Little things like eating a croissant or fresh vegetables are also wonderful!
As soon as you arrived, you had a tub of ice cream in your hand. Is that what you really missed the most?
I just love eating ice cream and everyone knows that. It kind of took on a life of its own. Before I could go ashore, I had already been handed the sundae.
At the press conference, you said that you had read Tapio Lehtinen's book - in Finnish. How is it that you speak this exotic language?
When I was 19, I moved to Finland for two years to train sled dogs. The language really fascinated me back then and I was able to speak it fluently quite quickly. Today, 18 years later, it's all a bit slower, but I've had a lot of time travelling.
Then Tapio was rescued after his accident in the Indian Ocean by a person who speaks Finnish, of all people ... How did the rescue mission go from your perspective?
I got the news that Tapio's boat had sunk, and as we were both still together at the photo gate in Cape Town, I knew we couldn't be too far apart. So I rang Race Control and offered to help. I was actually the closest, so I was asked to drive to him. I switched to "get to him as quickly as possible" mode and did everything I could. Engine on, more sails, everything to build up speed. I stood at the helm all night and reached the place the next morning. I'd never done anything like this before in my life, and I realised how difficult it is to spot a life raft between the waves in the sea. Tapio was on the radio and could see me, but I couldn't see him. So he guided me directly to him by giving me continuous commands such as "more to port, to starboard" and so on. When I got to him, I had tied my prepared line to the wrong side as I had expected a different angle of arrival. But Tapio had also prepared a line that I was able to catch on the first try. So I was able to pull him in and get him on board. The rescue ship soon arrived and asked me to go alongside. Of course, that wasn't possible because of the swell and the huge freeboard of the other ship. So Tapio suggested throwing us a line so that we could be pulled towards the other ship in the island, which we managed to do. But getting as close as possible to the ship, which was huge in comparison, was really quite nerve-wracking.
Were you ever afraid for yourself or the boat during the race?
No, I have learnt to go through life with confidence and heart. On my cycle tour through Africa, I could have been murdered, died of thirst in the desert or died of malaria - but I didn't feel that in my heart. During the race, I also never once thought that things could get really bad. But I have to say that I was also lucky. I didn't have to deal with any monster storms like Ian Herbert-Jones, who eventually had to be rescued from his mastless ship in the South Atlantic. If I had had to deal with knock-downs in such conditions, I might have feared for my life.
Did you have a low point where you doubted everything? And how did you get out of it?
The low point was definitely in the Kalmen, where I asked myself why I was doing this to myself. But I really wanted to be there, so there I was. Luckily, I love swimming - that's what kept me going. When I got too frustrated, I just jumped into the sea to get some distance from the boat. Back on board, I was able to shake off some of the frustration. But yes, the squids were really tough for me.
Where did you have to contend with the most difficult weather conditions and how did you behave?
That was probably at Cape Horn when we got a severe storm warning and were advised to head north as best we could. I had followed Knox-Johnston's advice and cast out lines at the stern. The wind vane continued to steer reliably and I then hid below deck and sealed everything up. The boat is so heavy and safe - I had faith in God. But I didn't get hit as badly as Ian or Tomy, who had been hit harder in worse conditions.
Did you struggle with breakage?
I only had one major mishap when a large wave entered the stern, breaking the hydrogenerator bracket and jeopardising my green power supply. That was a tricky one, which I had fun solving. My Hydrovane windvane control worked perfectly apart from minor technical problems, which I was able to solve quickly, and I had even used it for 15,000 nautical miles before the race even started. So there was nothing I couldn't fix with cable ties or gaffer tape.
What advice can you give to other sailors who want to prepare their boat for such a long distance?
From my point of view, 80 per cent of the race is good preparation. The hardest part is getting to the start line in the first place. It's a huge advantage to do as much of the refit yourself as possible, to really know every corner, every bolt and nut that holds the boat together. This is the only way to be able to carry out repairs out at sea with the tools available. And it's important to really get to know the boat on the water beforehand. I first sailed "Minnehaha" from Canada to South Africa and then back up to France. That was an ideal test for the boat and for me to get to know each other and discover what still needs to be improved. I was able to learn how the boat reacts and when, and which sails are best suited when.
You brought pictures and books on board to take your mind off things when the situation on board became difficult. Is there anything else that has helped you to stay positive in everyday life at sea?
As I said, swimming has always been good for me - except in cold water, which I don't enjoy. Then, of course, there are always challenges or obstacles that have to be overcome quickly. In the Southern Ocean, when "Minnehaha" was in the doldrums, barnacles immediately settled on the underwater hull. I was reluctant to go swimming there because I had seen small sharks before, which I preferred to watch from the boat. And it was cold. But the barnacles got worse and worse, so I started dreaming about the little beasts at night.
Then one morning I went up and went diving, which wasn't easy with the swell. Three dives spread over eight hours. But I managed it in the end. The action and its successful conclusion felt really good afterwards and gave me a real boost.
How did you determine your routing without modern tools? And do you think you always made the right decisions?
I sailed down the Atlantic by feel, so I knew pretty well what to expect. In the Southern Ocean, to be honest, you don't have to do much routing, you sail a deep course the whole time. Things got complicated when we went back up the Atlantic. Here I followed "Ocean Passages for the World", which suggests an easterly course. The further east I got, the more I started to question myself, until I finally set a northerly course and got stuck in the Ross Latitudes for four to five days. The routings for March and April are very different, and I probably got to the easterly position where I wanted to cross the equator a few days too late because of this. That could have cost me the race and I ended up bobbing around the Doldrums for a fortnight, which really annoyed me. But that's what this race is all about: no outside information, so you act on experience, instinct or literature and either get lucky or not. I still should have travelled further east!
You will now inspire countless sailors and adventure-seekers. Is there someone who has inspired you?
I can't do much with hero worship, and I've never had any role models in that sense. But if there is one person I would like to have met, it would be Nelson Mandela. He means a lot to me. I love South Africa as it is today, and without him this would not have been possible. Equality between women and men, skin colour, democracy. The sacrifice that Mandela made, with torture and imprisonment, to achieve these goals and introduce democracy - I admire him for that.
Are you already planning your next assault on a record or participation in another offshore regatta? The question of the Vendée is an obvious one.
I live by the saying "never say never". But I'm not planning to at the moment. I'm not really a competitor by nature. I prefer challenges where I have to find my own strengths. I prefer to do things like that on my own, like the cycle tour through Africa, for example. The challenge is to stand up to the elements of nature and overcome my own weaknesses and not compete against other people. So I don't know if the Vendée is right for me. I took part in the GGR with great enthusiasm, but the Vendée would be an even bigger step towards competition. But who knows? Maybe I won't sail for six months and then I'll suddenly work up an appetite.
And what are your plans for the next few months?
I want to go back to South Africa and see my family again, especially my father and my dogs. I have a corner down there that is like paradise for me. The wild coastline of Transkei. There's nothing better than walking along this beautiful wild coastline with my dogs. Plus wild camping, campfires and an endless starry sky. But I have also gained a second dream destination, which I already miss, and that is Prince Edward Island in Canada, where I did the refit of "Minnehaha". I really want to go back there soon and see the people there again, who have become like a second family to me.
Neuschäfer's greatest adventures
- The daughter of a German father and a South African mother, Kirsten Neuschäfer grew up in South Africa and attended a German school.
- At the age of 19, she went to Finland for two years to train sled dogs.
- The adventurous curly-haired man cycles 15,000 kilometres back to South Africa.
- In 2006 she made sailing her profession and worked as a sailing instructor and professional skipper.
- From 2015, she will be working for Skip Novak on his Pelagic expeditions, which will take her to Antarctica, Patagonia and the Falkland Islands.
- She sails several film crews to South Georgia for National Geographic and the BBC.
- From 2018 Preparation for the GGR 2022/23.
