LEICA  SAILING UP THE NILE

 

 

The sailboat "Leica" (a First 305 Bénéteau) - returns to France after a journey of 5 and a half months from Le Croisic to Aswan in Egypt via Corsica, La Crête, Alexandria, Cairo and Luxor.

 

From the Nile Delta to Aswan, "Leica"   - goes back in time and history.

 

Alain Guillou's wife and daughter Ewa & Melody embarked on "Leica " to Corsica, Crete and between Luxor and Aswan.

 

The purpose of the expedition:

 

Make a photographic report on Egypt and the Nile.

 

To crown his report and with the aim of taking a spectacular photo symbolizing the problems of the Nile's falling waters threatening Egypt, Alain Guillou obtained a green light from the Air Force to transport his sailboat by helicopter over the Cairo. He wants to drop it in front of the pyramids to photograph it under sails buried to the waterline in the sand of the desert, where the Nile passed two thousand years ago.

 

Moreover, surprised and embarrassed by the evolution of the Gulf crisis, Alain Guillou noticed during his trip that Egypt was facing serious economic problems. It rings an alarm bell. This country risks experiencing misery and chaos if tourists continue to desert this destination.

 

To our knowledge "Leica  " is the first modern sailboat equipped with its mast and sails to sail up the Nile to Aswan.

 

 

The Pharaohs Cruise

 

 

Reporter photographer

 

My job: photographer reporter consists of discovering the world constantly in search of original reportage subjects. A real miserable life or a wonderful existence? The answer is probably in the next few lines.

 

It's a permanent photographic hunt that ends up in the pages of small and large international magazines. The photographer thus shares with the public his vision of a modern world in full evolution where beauty alternates with ugliness, where wealth rubs shoulders with the greatest misery.

 

The goal is sometimes found elsewhere, in the simple pleasure of having overcome the difficulties inherent in the realization of an image, a project, a report. It lies quite simply in the pleasure of looking at a beautiful photo.

 

I sailed a lot, raced and even won a few cruise races in the 60s and 70s.  The sea is a passion, an incurable disease born  in the ponds Breton beaches... I've always thought of a boat... a childhood dream sometimes inaccessible... yet a sailboat is often a lot of trouble, problems of all kinds and as said so well one of my uncles: "The two most beautiful days in the life of a yachtsman are the one when he buys his boat and the one when he sells it.

 

Of course, the profession of reporter is not always a panacea on the bank account side... so how to realize your dream?  The answer came gradually by combining for fun: setting up an expedition in which the boat is both the photographer's means of transport and the subject of the report.

 

This is how the search for sponsors begins.... but before you had to come up with an idea. What can you do with a sailboat to find a budget without registering for the big transoceanic races?

 

The Nile ! Egypt offered all this. It is a formidable photographic hunting ground, a veritable gold mine with a past and contemporary history. It offers millennial scenes of life against a backdrop of industrial development,  a total change of scenery and as a bonus, adventure is on the road.

 

I didn't know then that a so-called pleasure boat could on certain cursed days turn into a real galley, worthy of the good old days of the penal colony... on other days, thanks to a sunset on the Nile which shimmers with a thousand glittering lights in the laughter curving the reeds, we exult with happiness as nature is so beautiful. The next minute we find ourselves plunged into a nightmare... what an adventure!

 

With the passing of time all this turns into good memories. The force of forgetting is one of the essential traits of human nature.

 

Well, a boat, a great country, an orgy of light is still not quite enough. You still have to find the little extra thing, the key photo of the subject that will amaze the most jaded people in the world: the magazine editors. These people are the greatest travelers I know. From their office in the depths of the newsrooms, they see everything, hear everything and are constantly listening  to the great breath of life that runs through our planet. To surprise them, astonish them, seduce them and finally motivate them to publish a photo or a report, it is necessary to present a structured, artistic, journalistic and increasingly perfected work. Image culture is constantly changing and adapting to the evolution of our modern world.

 

The idea, the contrast, the aesthetics, the event and an irreproachable technique are the key words of this profession which makes you dream. Photography is a passion. Life takes on its full meaning when you fulfill your passions.

 

So to answer the question life of galley or wonderful life, I would say that the existence without some small problems to solve would quickly become boring. One day we surf on the top of the wave and the next second we take full g.... by falling into a hollow... you always have to make sure to pay for a few little surfs for the pleasure...

 

So on the way to the Nile... yes, I forgot, this time the original thing in my report is a photo of my boat under sail, buried in the sand up to the waterline with the pyramids of Giza in the background. The means of transport to bring it there: quite simply a helicopter. The relationship with the report?  The Nile passed there a few thousand years ago and then what could be more symbolic to materialize this sword of Damocles which hangs over Egypt: drought and drop in the waters of the Nile.

 

 

A curious encounter

 

Sailing from Le Croisic to Arcachon, we transported Leica   on a truck to Port Gruissan in the Mediterranean. The crossing to Corsica and Regio de Calabria was uneventful apart from a few stormy squalls in the Bay of Biscay and a nocturnal landing in the mist on the Aeolian Islands.

 

At the exit of the Strait of Messina, a gust of wind force 9 in the nose and a rough sea encourage us to be careful and to turn around to return in the early morning to the port of Reggio de Calabria. This first experience of heavy weather with "Leica"   lets us predict the boat's behavior could not be healthier in harsh conditions.

 

The weather having recovered, we sailed from Reggio towards La Crête:  uneventful navigation for 5 days at the pace of the watches.

 

One night, huddled in my bunk,  Jean-Pierre wakes me up. The urgency of his voice brings me to the deck without even taking the time to get dressed. To my great surprise, I find myself dazzled by the very powerful searchlights of two boats which rush at us!

 

I try to identify them, lighting me in vain with a halogen spotlight. They are apparently trawlers. I decide to launch the engine of Leica   in disaster to flee. The radio!  I rush, turn it on. My repeated calls on channel 16 remain unanswered until the moment when a French voice is heard:

“Here a French LNG carrier, who is calling?”

I answer in English so that everyone understands:

"What are you doing? Why are you charging at us?"

"Me, I'm doing nothing, I'm all alone on the sea and there is no one around my ship "  ... ???

But who are these two boats, what do they want? It seems important to me to keep a low profile on the airwaves, not to tell you right away what is happening and above all to give my position urgently to all ships in the area...

"Here is my position....what is yours?"

I say nothing more...and then I hear 2 short words in Russian followed by an equally short and guttural one-word response by another voice in what sounds like Arabic.

 

Jean-Pierre calls me:

- "Alain, they're turning around!"

... Phew! It's won!

 

We will never know who these people were and what they wanted from us. Our position close to Libya and the power of the spotlight immediately makes us think of Libyan trawlers (military) on a traffic surveillance mission in the Mediterranean....?  The Gulf crisis is in progress full evolution. They may have contacted us without success on channel 16, (our radio not being in function for reasons of energy saving). Having no response from us, Leica   without radio seemed like easy and anonymous prey. Stories of piracy are frequent these days, even in the Mediterranean...

 

Another hypothesis is that Jean-Pierre, in the solitude of his night shift, a nostalgic fisherman, Breton and passionate about fishing boats, could not resist the urge to approach fellow Mediterraneans. In doing so, he may have caused a hindrance in the work of these boats, irritating their captains who decided to give us a good lesson... if this is the case, it's won. But I will never know...

 

- "I see some white horses ahead of us!"

 

I think: - "You speak, we are right under your cushy nose and we cheerfully ride your white horses..."

 

Translation: Whites horses =  white horses likened to breaking waves. Approaching the strait between Crete and the Peloponnese, the wind and the sea rose more and more. We were already climbing 3-meter waves when a big freighter presented itself as a godsend to obtain, by radio, a weather report indicating what sauce the God Eole had decided to bite us into.

 

The freighter slowed down and  changed course to pass 100 meters behind us... it disappeared on the horizon leaving us to fight on what was to become a veritable battlefield during the night.

 

Gradually the wind picked up, we reduced the sail further.... fortunately I had put in a fourth band of reefs while passing Bonifacio. The sea swelled until it became furious, sometimes the waves, like columns of water rushing skyward higher than the spreaders falling on the deckhouse with a noise like that of a cannon shot.

 

Gradually we got stuck in this kind of solitude made of an increasingly present uncertainty: that of our survival. We had to win against the wind cost and cost and sometimes our efforts were reduced to nothing when Leica  cc781905-5cde-3194-bb3b-136bad5cf58d_ collapsed under the gusts of breath taken distraught for a hundred meters by breaking waves which one after another resounded like a sledgehammer crashing on its hull.

 

The GPS satellite positioner, offered by the Company Gérard Lermerle Sarl du Croisic, does wonders, indicating to me the certainty of a course on the bottom guiding me on the port tack straight downwind of the South West end of the Crête..._cc781905 -5cde-3194-bb3b-136bad5cf58d_

 

Having this shelter "at hand", I decided to fight against the sea and the wind rather than fleeing or taking a passive attitude leading us further offshore, drifting in the stormy dry canvas at the risk of to be overturned by the waves.

 

The anemometer settled on 60 knots (+-100 Km/h) and did not move for 3 hours.... The next 5 hours, the wind seemed to rise again... the needle of the indicator then began a wild dance between 0 and 60 knots without ever stopping at an intermediate value. The waves got bigger and bigger, hard to tell their height, maybe between 4 and 8 meters. At times, under the pressure of stronger gusts than others, we had just enough time to see in the night a fury of foam and water dust rushing towards us. All sails shocked Leica   was lying in the water, distraught by the violence of the elements.  The sea was then flattening , completely crushed by the fury of the wind. Very quickly the waves regained their right, unwinding our sails thanks to the hollows.

 

From time to time, in the bow, the ephemeral imprint of a shooting star streaked the celestial vault... in a starry sky of incredible purity, we witnessed the parade of many airliners and the bridge set up for another storm in the Kuwaiti desert.

 

My mind lets itself go to think of these passengers and aviators from another world savoring the splendor of a hushed comfort, barely disturbed by the roar of the reactors.... We are in a hell of a "trouble" , trapped on our nut shell tossed in all directions by the sea which is only looking for one thing: to unseat us... All the harnesses are in position, each of us is equipped with these wonderful Allmer clothes with in the pocket of his floating jacket, a flare pen and a waterproof flash. As for me, in addition to the harness, I moored myself with a releasable strap fixed to the toe rail riveting my buttocks to the cockpit bench. It allows me to concentrate all my efforts on the bar and not to disperse my energy clinging to me so as not to be ejected from the boat. It happened to me several times to be suspended in the void, about to drop the carabiner and release from the rear so as not to be caught under the boat in the event of a complete overturn. But "Leica  " frankly straightened up behaving wonderfully well.

 

Discomfort, doubt, time, fatigue and cold are mortal enemies that lead us to a lethargic state against which we had to fight. At the height of the gale Jean-Pierre, who has already seen all the colors while fishing, says to me:

 

"I've never seen that in my life...I think we're going to drink our last glass of sea water and it'll be over..."

 

His words go off in the wind punctuated by the furious kicks of "Leica " and the bubbling of the few tons of water passing over our heads. I have more and more the impression of being on a cork propelled in an infernal washing machine...

 

It is interesting to see how our mind in these conditions adapts to the situation.  It restricts itself to essential thoughts. The only thing I think about is my whole reason for living, my happiness and an unlimited love for Melody and Ewa, my little family living in our cozy little nest in Le Croisic. I draw from them all the energy and courage to fight against the dementia of a merciless nature. Back in France Ewa will tell me that that night Melody did not sleep, crying constantly calling her Dad suffering a fever without apparent clinical signs reaching almost 41ø and which disappeared just as suddenly as it had appeared...? "Leica_cc781905-5cde -3194-bb3b-136bad5cf58d_ " could have disappeared body and well that day...

 

"Leica " a First 305 Bénéteau held firm even though I had the impression that its hull was going to split in two at any moment dragging us into a final bubbling of foam.... Beyond our efforts, the resistance of the material conditioned our safety. It was totally based on the seriousness of an architect, of these engineers and technicians who, on their drawing board and in the Bénéteau workshops, designed our marvelous boat.

 

We kept constant control of the sail plan. To reinforce the mast; I preferred to install the releasable forestay but only work on the furling genoa so as to be able to optimize the sail area at all times. Jean-Pierre and Steve did wonders, taking turns at the mainsheet, releasing it instantly at my request just before the wave or a gust to take it back immediately afterwards. This has often saved us from finding ourselves lying with the mast in the water when a dangerous breaking wave approaches. Released from the pressure the boat righted itself just before the impact having enough speed to stay maneuvering at the right time. I took care to keep the forward sail plan as large as possible to keep all the necessary power. The Furltec furler worked wonders and I still wonder how this mechanism was able to withstand the efforts we made it undergo.

 

The technique was to safeguard our capacity for speed, power and maneuverability. We shocked (released the maneuvering ropes of the sails)  in large just before the wave to, according to its size, take it from the front or support it and bring down (move away from the wind) after its passage (damping the descent) so as not to fall several meters on the other side (the impact= risk of dismasting) and picking up speed while tacking (pulling on the ropes to reinflate the sails) on request to negotiate the next wave.

 

Sometimes under the force of the wind "Leica " still wallowed, all sails shocked, flapping, flapping like sheet metal tortured by an implacable hand.  The relentless waves rushed at us as if they wanted to deal a final blow to the boat.

 

This technique and the attitude adopted worked even if sometimes Leica   fell back under the immense pressure of the breaking waves. It is however trying for the crew and its result will bring us sooner or later to a point of no return, exhausted, unable to move, dead of fatigue on a distraught boat in the storm. We struggled knowing that we had to reach a shelter before our physical resistance was reduced.  No one on board suffered from seasickness.

 

At the heart of the storm a major concern was bothering me. Was it better to continue towards Crete or should we turn around to try to reach the Peloponnese. The second option seemed possible and more interesting, but I couldn't make the decision despite many factors pushing me towards this choice...

 

Clinging to the bar, after a few hours of "roller coaster" I thought about the problem having some reluctance to go down to the chart table to take stock of the situation, (it was difficult for me in these conditions to entrust the boat_cc781905-5cde- 3194-bb3b-136bad5cf58d_ for a long time to Jean-Pierre who, as a crew member with admirable behavior, had no experience of sailing except a few months of training for the regattas of the "Fishing Ports Challenge"). Yet, somewhere in my head, I knew I could count on him to fight to the end in case I got un  rare but always devastating seasickness at home.

 

Another consideration which, as a passing thought, imposed itself more and more on my mind, was to send out a security message over the radio waves to signal our situation and our position. My decision made, I didn't tell anyone so as not to alarm my crew...

 

"Here Jean-Pierre, take it for a moment, I'll make a point."

 

It's a tricky acrobatics to change coxswains and then descend into the boat. Entrusting Steve with ensuring my safety and grabbing the carabiner of my harness at the right moment, I ended up finding myself inside with the very strong impression of having found myself for a moment unstable on my back. a furious stallion during a rodeo.

 

There, everything was in working order, everything was moored in its place and everything seemed OK even if some objects defied all the laws of gravity. It wasn't the mess I was expecting.

 

On the map, the strait between the Peloponnese and Crete forms a gigantic venturi. Similar to the Bouches de Bonifacio, to Gibraltar etc... Here it is a little different insofar as the respective reliefs are asymmetrical. My great experience of delta wing flying told me that as I got closer to the mountains of Crete the wind was going to increase even more and that to leeward of the island we were going to suffer terrible slaps falling vertically on the boat, (the skypper from 'a local charter sailboat later told me that he had slept thus  for a quarter of an hour without canvas in this place whose bad reputation is well established).

 

Sitting at the chart table, one foot wedged against the galley, I clung on as best I could to report the position and our course melted on the chart when above the claps of thunder resounding on the whole hull a monstrous noise was made. hear outside. I am unable to say what happened exactly. The only thing I remember is feeling a shock as if a locomotive was hitting us at full speed and finding myself groggy in the front cabin, tossed around, lifted and falling like a bag of potatoes. earth until the moment ou  fighting with all my might against the anxiety I was able to hold on and come back somehow to the chart table after checking if there was no water in the bottom...

 

"Pan, Pan Pan  from sailing boat "Leica  " to all ship ..."

 

no answer.....

 

" Pan Pan Pan, this is the sailing ship Leica  . Is there any boat around?"

 

"Pan Pan Pan this is "Leica  " to all ship ..." ...

 

""Leica  " this is sailing ship xxx reading you clear go ahead over"

 

(Pan Pan Pan is an international safety radio procedure addressed to all ships to signal a difficulty).

 

From the depths of the desert and the night a friendly voice answered me... the last caper had shaken me a little. Because of a breaking wave, I didn't really understand the name of the English sailboat that was answering me. This guy's voice was quiet phlegmatic and sounded like he was drinking champagne and spooning caviar.

 

I give him my position and in 30 seconds he tells me to be 4 nautical miles to windward fleeing the storm on a 25-meter sailboat en route to Malta. He comes from Heraklion and explains to me that in the North of the Crete it was hell. I inform him that I am not in difficulty and my desire to mention to another ship my position and my course with regard to the severe punishment inflicted on "Leica  " as well as my doubts as to the resistance of my boat in these conditions. I share my thoughts with him and he confirms that I have the same ideas with the addition of a factor that I hadn't thought of. In the direction of the Peloponnese there is more maritime traffic than in the desert area towards which I am heading.

 

I then make the decision to change tack. Today, I feel like this guy saved our lives. I may never meet him, but I very much hope that one day he will read this article and seek to reach me.

 

Our paths crossed 100 meters away. We had the impression of passing next to a different and inaccessible planet. To each his own "fortune at sea".  His masthead light sometimes disappeared completely behind the waves gradually vanishing into the night.

 

We remained more than 24 hours in doubt but without ever softening or reducing our effort. I wondered how long we could last. Gradually the wind changed direction slightly and the sea became less aggressive. When the anemometer needle finally stabilized at 50 knots, we felt a sense of calm and security, giving us the certainty that we were going to get out of it.

 

In the early morning, the conditions being more manageable, I left the helm to Jean-Pierre to redo a GPS checkpoint and a study of the route, I realized that we had gained on course, seeing on the end of the tunnel a glimmer of hope. Suddenly a voice spits on the radio...

 

"Does anyone speak English around here?"

 

Back to life... dialogue with a big catamaran which had come from Brindisi in Italy and had poked its nose outside when leaving the shelter of the Peloponnese to turn around while it was also trying to reach Heraklion in Crete.

 

I take over the watch with Steve. Jean-Pierre descends into the saloon and wobbles like a groggy boxer. I realize that he sleeps standing up while keeping a precarious balance. It lasts at least 30 seconds before he collapses devastated on the starboard berth...

 

Having paraded in front of a multitude of freighters, ferries and ships having taken shelter, we anchored in a small cove to leeward of Cape Matapan. The catamaran joins us. The scenery is grand. There is a small village and by gesture I make it clear that I want to telephone. In the distance the voices of Ewa and Melody are all the happiness in the world. After two days of stopover in the small cove of Tigana, we set sail for Heraklion in Crete.

 

Ewa and Melody came to join us. About ten kilometers from Heraklion there was a small port belonging to Marina Hotel. I decide to stop there.

 

The safety of this marina seemed precarious to me in the event of a gale from the North, but the management of the hotel reassures me and convinces me of the total safety of the place by recommending that I recognize the tortuous and shallow channel winding between banks. of sands and stones.

 

I invite Jean-Pierre to come and do the reconnaissance of the passage.

 

We will have to play tight on arrival. A wind of 55 knots was blowing from land. A direct approach on the quay, facing the wind was impossible. At the critical moment, I give the order to throw a rope. Steve, throw and miss. "Leica  " without speed, uncontrollable drift dangerously towards the rocks.

 

I rush, but it's already too late and I miss my shot. Pushed by the wind "Leica  " is now approaching the stones at full speed... there is still a small chance. Ultimate and desperate manoeuvre: I engage the reverse gear fully. The port rudder and the hull of the boat pass a few tens of centimeters from the rock... we narrowly escape and run aground on a sandbank. Roaring engine "Leica" cc781905-5cde-3194-bb3b-136bad5cf58d_ emerges. Jean-Pierre rushes in and immediately pulls off an incredible line, which is quickly seized by a local fisherman. Phew! We have just approached the end of the trip.

 

The following days are a real hassle. First of all, a team member had to be found, Jean Pierre having to return to France to resume fishing at Le Croisic.

 

Then, the wind shifted to the North, strengthening into a storm. Breaking rollers on the nearby beach made exiting "Leica " impossible. A sailor, taking care of the hotel owner's launch, told me that several boats sank last year in similar conditions.

 

"Leica  " dances, pulls on its moorings. The breakers pass over the pier. There's nothing left to do but wait... Steve watches the boat day and night while I phone from the hotel and send faxes to France to replace Jean-Pierre.

 

We lost 3 weeks which added to the other delays, we will realize it later will be fateful with the realization of my photo of "Leica  " under sails in the desert in front of the pyramids.

 

Our financial situation jeopardizes our ability to continue. One of the expedition's sponsors withdrew just before departure, leaving a huge hole in the budget. Every moment of our cruise is a permanent struggle against the various difficulties, the time and the money that we lack.

 

Ewa and Melody are heading back to France planning a one-day stop in Athens to try to visit the few magazines in a market that we hardly exploit... Jackpot... At the first magazine Ewa picks up the timpani and sells to the entire press group almost all the reports available in our collection...

 

"Leica  " fills up with life and leaves for Alexandria taking advantage of a favorable time slot provided by the International Marine Weather forecast in Paris. The forecasts are incredibly accurate. The wind variations change as expected in due time on the announced areas.

 

At least take off your shoes!

 

Upon arrival in Egyptian territorial waters, I radioed the authorities at the port of Alexandria of our arrival. I am asked several times what is the content of our load... I try in vain to explain that I am a small sailboat from Crete... and ask for a berth...

 

- "Yes captain - standby, will call you back but tell me what is your shipment?"

 

After an hour of fruitless discussion, the land approaching I see myself obliged to deal first and foremost with the delicate landing, postponing the problem until later. We embarked on the passes of the large commercial port, after dark, looking for a place to moor "Leica " in the middle of a monstrous mic mac of cargo ships and ships of all tonnages waiting at anchor for a place at the quay to unload their goods.

 

Suddenly from behind a tanker the massive shadow of a tug looms, swooping down on us at full speed. Full back! the heavy steel hull slides dangerously a few centimeters from the fragile hull of "Leica"  ... The tug turns dry and returns to the charge ... I maneuver to avoid it again shouting :

 

- "Please no, no! stop it!"

 

I hear laughter, bursts of voice which seem to me to be jokes... On a nearby quay, I then distinguish flashlights, a group signals me to approach. The beam of my halogen lamp illuminates officers in uniform. The only way to avoid being savagely approached is to head towards this platform in the hope of finding someone who speaks English.

 

A police cruiser appears, screaming siren, and also tries to rush at us. It's completely insane. On board, sailors laugh and joke, gesticulate like kids. I narrowly avoid another collision and stow "Leica " against the dock.

 

The tug, again, appears, still at full speed, obviously intending to moor alongside my boat. I explain in time to a security colonel that her fiberglass hull will not withstand this wild coupling. ... story of the earthen pot and the iron pot... Phew! He understands and finally drives away the blind brute who vanishes under cover of the night.

 

An officer asks me to disembark with the boat's passports and papers. They are rather nice and offer me tea. A security team must come on board to search the boat... 5 or 6 people show up. I object... we decide to bring two of them up...  They start at the front post where all the food is... one of them opens a package of flour...

 

Despite the tension and the situation, I can't help joking in English:

 

- "Cocaine! do you want some?"

 

He looks at me curiously and sniffs the flour... smile...

 

while rolling the air:

- "you are a very funny man"

 

Well, he cheers up...it works. The search continues. We walk on the bunks and the sheets with shoes full of oil.... I get angry... without effect or result...

 

- "At least take off your shoes!"

 

.. no answer...

 

- "Do you have any weapons?"

- "Why do it? No weapons. Uh! yes, an underwater hunting rifle."

 

They look at each other, the chief replies:

 

- "no problem"

 

One of them falls on the pen box... asks for one... I offer it... he takes two. ... the search over, the two policemen apologize ...

 

"Sorry we do our job!"

 

... and explain to me that we should have gone to the old eastern port and that Egypt fears new terrorist attacks following the assassination of one of President Mubarak's advisers. The Golf crisis is there... as an answer to all the questions we could ask ourselves. The problems begin...

 

Another officer guides us to the Port de Police where we spend the night... "Leica " is bathed in an oil bath. That port is dirty! Tomorrow we will go to the East port. This evening "Leica " is the guest of the Police and rests gently between two stars full of fuel oil, bumps on the balconies and twisted or torn candlesticks... The long march of administrative procedures begins.

 

Administration - The Egyptians invented the papyrus...

 

... and Napoleon exported to Egypt the bases of an administrative system and of the laws in force in our time.

 

The Soviet presence and the communist system marked this country forever by giving birth to a certain form of administrative nomenclature deeply implanted in all the roots of society. Obviously, this real social caste greatly hinders the development of this country where  many competent and willing people suffer terribly from it. This causes an exodus of the intelligentsia to jobs and a more satisfying way of life abroad.

 

Obviously Egypt would make a leap of 10 years forward in 1 day by getting rid of this system. A simple formality that can be done in 5 minutes sometimes takes several weeks or even months.

 

Yacht Club or Press Service?

 

I have been working on this project for 2 years. A first contact with the Egyptian Tourist Office in Paris sends me to the offices of the Government Information Service.

 

Presentation of the file, exchange of mail punctuated by the uncertainties of the long quest for sponsors. We are given a name in Cairo, a phone to call when we arrive in Egypt. Fortunately I was able (without permission) to leave the enclosure of the port of Alexandria the evening of our arrival to go and telephone Ewa in France. She confirms the next morning our arrival at Le‹la Suliman in Cairo.

 

We moored in the East port in the early morning on a pontoon of the Yacht Club d'Alexandrie.

 

Among half a dozen strangers dressed as moguls, travel and transit agents, (news and business travels fast here)  Alexandria Information Bureau Representative waiting for us a little away. People rush business cards in hand. I am informed that the President of the Yacht Club wishes to speak to me. A lonely man is waiting, seated in an armchair facing the port. I approach. He explains to me that without the Yacht Club I can't do anything and that I have to go through the services of one of the transit agents to get all the authorizations.

 

I tell him that I already have them.

 

-"And Customs? Do you know that you have to pay a deposit for the price of the boat?"

 

I return to the group and walk towards the man from Information who introduces himself. Instantaneously the current flows. The "exit door opens". Curious feeling to feel volatile coming out of a henhouse full of foxes remaining unsatisfied. Businessmen leave.

 

Hosni, a virtuoso of administrative meanders, helps me negotiate all authorizations except Customs... an unavoidable obstacle.

 

The French Embassy in Egypt

 

Egyptian law tends of course to protect the country against any untimely imports. Many products entering the country are subject to a tax equal to the value of the product. If the latter is intended to come out as, for example, personal property such as "Leica ", the owner must pay a guarantee deposit equal to the value of the boat. Impossible thing in view of my financial difficulties due to the late withdrawal of one of my sponsors. Stranded for 15 days in Alexandria, after many unsuccessful attempts, desperately seeking a solution, I ended up visiting the French Embassy in Cairo. 5 minutes later I leave jumping for joy with a letter of accreditation in my pocket in which the Embassy guaranteed the deposit.

 

The mouth of the Nile is out of place

 

We finally leave Alexandria heading for the Nile Delta. The on-board GPS computer derived from US Army satellite positioning systems accurate between 15 and 100 meters tells us that the mouth of the Nile (branch of Rashid) is not where it should be. the map. In the absence of markup we seek the entrance to finally discover between two strips of sand an opening of about twenty meters in width connected to a lagoon which can only be the Nile.

 

As we approached this pass, "Leica " ran aground and thumped hard on the bottom for a good half hour.... We ended up breaking free and entering the narrow passage.

 

At the bend of a bend, a river police boat awaits us. Prudently, I immediately set course for them to prevent them from setting sail to board us... Two officers asked us in English to come on board.

 

- "Ok! but take off your shoes."

 

They accept, without really understanding why, and search the boat with great respect and delicacy. Coming out of all the administrative hassle suffered in Alexandria, their spontaneous kindness touches us a lot. Gesture of farewell, thanks: we resume our journey... and finally begin a formidable journey back in time and history.

 

We walked on the Nile -

 

Apart from the largely marked tourist routes, sailing up the Nile is an adventure in its own right. For example, between its mouth (Rashid branch) and Cairo,  the river was clogged with a plug of floating hyacinths 3 kilometers long so thick that it was possible to walk on the river. Rather than waiting a few long months for the release of the saving current created by the opening of the dams upstream, following an inquiry made to the Department of Irrigation "Leica_cc781905-5cde-3194-bb3b -136bad5cf58d_ "has infiltrated the heart of the Nile Delta through irrigation canals almost impassable to navigation: broken locks, barge bridges half sunk, silted that we moved using tractors recovered on site , railway bridges refusing to open. All this explained in sign language.

Some of these past obstacles no longer allowed the return of the boat, (for example a lock gate that had to be opened by pulling it with a 20 ton truck). The evacuation of "Leica " from this area could only be done by helicopter in the event of permanent blockage.

 

A sometimes thousand-year-old way of life -

 

Despite some small inconveniences such as an attack with small-caliber rifles and stones thrown by kids (quickly repelled by a distress rocket sent high above the group), the adventure is extremely positive for many respect: the incredible kindness of the peasant populations and Egyptians in general, "The Nile Delta offers one of the most beautiful peasant frescoes on our planet". It is also, on a daily basis, the feat of farmers who, with a way of life and work, sometimes thousands of years old, manage to assume the survival of a country of more than 40 million inhabitants on land whose area is n does not exceed that of a French department including urban areas.

 

 

"Please, Ifta Kobré" (Please open the bridge)

 

Despite the pass from the highest authorities of the Egyptian government (it was in fact an order for anyone who read it to help us without restriction) one of the greatest difficulties we encountered was the passage of the locks and the opening bridges which did not provide sufficient height for the boat. Navigating the canals of the Delta, we experienced extremely painful moments, hitting the language barrier, bridges whose opening system was damaged, guards unable to take responsibility for letting us pass or asking us for a huge bribe.

 

In some cases we managed to understand that the bridge was not going to open for several days, even several weeks. In other cases, the guardian having never seen Europeans and even less, a boat like "Leica  ", used all the "tricks" to keep us with him the longest possible. Each of our gestures, our words, the slightest friendly mark plunging him into blissful happiness. How can you blame those.

 

Each time, I had to travel the  countryside on foot, by donkey, by hitchhiking, by taxi or by horse-drawn carriage to visit the various authorities in the region: Governor, Head of Security, Chief of Police, River Police, Director of Irrigation, Army, Railway Managers etc...  in each administration at all levels of the hierarchy, from the simple doorman in passing by the sweeper to the Chief, I had to go up the chain patiently explaining my problem by gestures and with drawings. Some people did not always have the necessary culture to understand these drawings despite all their apparent goodwill.

 

I underwent real interrogations that could last several hours.  Not having a photocopier, the police or secret service officials tirelessly copied the contents of my passport, the multitude of papers and permissions in my folder.

 

I negotiated for hours, whole days, nights. Railroad bridges were the most difficult to open. To make matters worse, I was sick, stuffed full of antibiotics. In bouts of fever I sometimes lost my sight momentarily, my interlocutors disappearing in a fog. Without a doctor close at hand, I had no choice but to move forward co–te que co–te Jér“me being also sick and under the same treatment.

 

The highlight: the Shibin El Kom road bridge.

 

Waiting, moored on the piers of this bridge, "Leica " has become the curiosity of a crowd that clumps together, swells, grows. Our situation is becoming more and more precarious. The very strong current makes any rescue maneuver delicate, even dangerous, because of twisted and accelerated metal structural elements protruding at the water's edge, which we had not noticed when we arrived.

 

The guardian of this bridge speaks perfect English and demands a bribe of 400 dollars. It's Friday (holiday). All the administrations were closed. Nothing to do. Discussion, palavers under the stones, banana peels and residues of all kinds launched by irresponsible kids, free to do whatever they please despite the presence of adults and the Police. Jereme, in hand-to-hand combat with the crowd, stood guard on the bridge, trying in vain to drive back these kids who were getting more and more emboldened. His position was becoming precarious, even though many English-speaking adults showed us extraordinary kindness, not knowing what to do, powerless to get us out of our distress. Tirelessly, the same person asked us for hours:

 

"What's your name? what's your name? what's your name..."

"Aswan? Aswan? Aswan? Aswan? Aswan? Aswan?

 

One is fine but five, ten, one hundred...hello damage...exasperating!

 

Exhausted, tested, by a fortnight of hell, eaten away by vermin,  lice, ticks, fleas and so on, not knowing how to get out of the impasse, I end up taking on board a bottle of rubbing alcohol. The guard, stubborn, stubborn looks at me ironically seeming to have fun when a stone fell on the boat. He didn't give a damn about the permissions we showed him and was only waiting for one thing: his $400.

 

Until then, I had remained calm, patient, smiling, friendly and accommodating... Is there a trick, a solution? If reason and gentleness remain without result, theater and determination must work... I condition myself and pretend without too much difficulty to get angry, showing a cold, sudden rage.

 

Looking larger than life, I grab him by the collar of his djellaba, pouring half a liter of alcohol in front of his feet, telling him that if he doesn't let me pass, I'll set the boat on fire. He will be responsible for this to the Minister of Tourism who brought us to Egypt.

 

I crack a lighter, the flames brush against his djellaba, his eyes roll in their sockets, a dancing glow illuminates him from below accentuating the mask of terror that is inscribed on his face... I release him, he runs off saying to me in arabe  words among which I only understand "ifta kobré" ... it works!

 

To myself I think: "sorry, old man... I know that an extra $400 in your purse would round off your end of the month nicely. No hard feelings, no hatred... but you gave me no choice. . You may not know it but contrary to what you think, I do not have the wealth of a hen with golden eggs.

 

"Hey, Jérôme is back, let's start!"

 

At this time, our supporters on the bridge applaud and end up intervening with the police officers who no longer knew what to do with this increasingly hysterical and screaming crowd applauding, too. She does not retreat step by step in front of a row of police cars with howling sirens, their flashing lights accentuating a scene of apocalypse and riot.

 

Motor forward all we pass under a rain of stones, old slippers and other soles seasoned with tomato sauce bursting on the bridge. These kids are terrible. On foot, on bicycles, they pursue us on the banks. Out of sight of the Police, taking advantage of dark corners, they use spinning slingshots whose shots cause small splashes to burst into sprays of water less than one meter on the back of Leica_cc781905-5cde-3194-bb3b- 136bad5cf58d_ . We are out of reach. Leica cc781905-5cde-3194-bb3b-136bad5cf58d_ fades into the night out of city lights.

 

Phew! What a hassle, but the way is almost free to Cairo. We only have half a dozen bridges and locks left to cross.

 

"How are you, Jerome? That one wasn't bad!"

"Yeah! when's the next one?"

"Patience, old man."

 

After this incident, we did not experience any more backchich problems until Luxor.

 

Nile Plowers

 

The notion of time is an economic factor specific to modern civilizations. In developing countries this notion of time and space does not exist. Sailing transport is still profitable in Egypt.  On the banks of the Nile, many abandoned feluccas bear witness to the history of these magnificent sailing ships which are endangered._cc781905-5cde-3194-bb3b -136bad5cf58d_ Soon, there will only be modern barges left on the Nile. The survival of these sailboats is intimately linked to the economic development of the country.

 

Mustafa is the first felouquier speaking perfect English that we have met. “Leica ” pranced about happily sailing along with an antique belonging to another world. Stuffed with large stones, his felucca cut his course full tailwind,  weaving between the sandbanks, plowing the current of the Nile with his rustic bow. A good windfall for "Leica  " which was careful not to show its "thoroughbred" qualities by wisely lining up behind an unexpected guide. Finally, vacations and navigation without the worry of constantly monitoring the sonar.

 

For the photo, Jér“me, Ewa and Melody hoist the spinnaker while from the Zodiac I hysterically "grill" a monstrous quantity of Fuji-Velvia spools.

 

On the radio: "Hey! Jér“me, start the engine and engage the reverse gear. You're going too fast!"

 

Mustafa works for six months as an English teacher and the rest of the year sails the Nile with his father's felucca. His felucca costs a fortune: 9,000 francs. Its sail area is impressive and we feel that it has long since reached the peak of its technological evolution, perfectly adapted to the conditions of transport on the Nile.

 

In the night a fluorescent green firefly...

 

Throughout the Nile and the villages, the stars of the night mingle with fluorescent green fireflies materializing the minarets. Sign of modern times, these minarets are lined with loudspeakers with muscular decibels which guarantee the traveler lost in these places perfect insomnia. The exotic charm of Muslim nights gradually turns into an insomniac daze.

 

The word of Allah reverberates on the waters of the Nile at sometimes incredible distances, depriving us of all chances of finding the restorative sleep that we so badly needed. The Koranic law imposes itself willy-nilly not thinking of the faithful of other religions.

 

However, I remember with great emotion a moment of striking poetry. Having heard a slight sound of water near "Leica " at anchor, worried and on my guard, I climb out of my berth to stick my head out through the deckhouse hatch.

 

Emerging from the Middle Ages, pushed by the current, a large two-masted felucca sails by a few meters from me. Its flabby sails hang useless and cut out a bank of morning mist haloed in the pale light of the full moon. In the distance, the minarets reflect the long litany of the words of Allah, exhorting the faithful to prayer. A heron takes flight from the reeds... the moment is magical. My thoughts go back to the mists of time. Am I really in the 20th century?

 

"Allah Akbar! ..... Allah Akbar! ....."

 

Two shadows are busy on a huge oar tending to maintain the felucca in the current. dream ?

 

"No charge for looking Sir..."

 

Of course, we did not escape the extortion practiced here and there on all occasions: the customs of Alexandria, very wise when the boat came back, was patiently waiting for it on the way back... on the route on the Luxor side, it There is a more than intense and feverish activity carried out by a master hand which consists in systematically ransoming and carrying out a non-stop transfer of money from one pocket to another for the slightest reason. Even porters at some hotels who are tipped must pay royalties. The lords of this racket have amassed colossal fortunes. In the streets of Luxor the souvenir merchants will let you in complacently, pointing out to you all the same that they are extremely kind enough to let you look at their shop without charging you a right to look! The bribe is king, but the informed traveler will know how to see the dollar sign shining in the eyes of his interlocutor. What more can we say about this guard at the temple of Kom Ombo whose job paid by the State is to monitor the site and our photographer during his shooting session. Returning to "Leica " individual  sighed with every step an unintelligible word at first. Repeated tirelessly "schhh" - "shhhh" the sigh (like the expression of suffering) became a whisper then growing louder as the group approached the boat turned into "khiss"   "ackschisch" "bakchich". The guard walked with his back bent, taking on the air of an unhappy beaten dog... great art! The world is badly made sometimes because this man would probably make a better living as a movie actor. The beggar, a past master in the art of deception and comedy, skillfully triggers in his innocent interlocutor a form of pity triggering generosity. The techniques used are as many as they are varied.

 

Even if the bakchich is a real plague, it is however necessary to analyze the causes:

 

Very low wages do not always allow Egyptians to live properly. A waiter on a hotel boat or in a five-star hotel earns around 200 francs. The salary of a civil servant is 300 F. A university professor earns around 800 F.

 

Thus the bakchich settled in this country while rising by the global monetary mass at the level of a true  secondary economy. (Customs, tourist site guards, lock guards, bridge guards, tourist staff, etc.) with or without another choice, everyone makes up for the end of the month.

 

The financial realities of industrial countries have nothing in common with those of a developing country like Egypt.  People manage and achieve a certain balance in life. Even if misery is frequent, I have not encountered any cases of malnutrition, I have never heard of anyone dying of starvation in this country. Although it can happen, it is occasional.

 

The tourist, out of ignorance, believing he is doing the right thing, too often pollutes and destroys the populations in his path by generously giving a completely excessive tip. He thus teaches people that it is no longer necessary to work to live.  The loss of the meaning and value of work is one of the worst things that can happen to a population. The excessive tip is a real poisoned gift.

 

Let a recession occur in tourism (as is the case today) and all the low earners, some of whom can only survive thanks to the "baksheesh" find themselves deprived of this source of income (This obviously does not concern the great Lords of real mafia who by racketeering and excessive exploitation have built their fortune).

 

But what is the solution to this problem which sooner or later threatens to divert the enthusiasm of the crowds for this otherwise endearing country?

 

Security

 

The Egyptian people are a gentle, kind people and I have never felt my safety in danger (what happened on Elephantine Island is an accident) even if in certain situations, certain places, in certain individuals the one can usually detect a great potential for violence. It is proper to all the peoples of the world. With or without the Gulf Crisis, the Souks of Cairo or any Egyptian city seem infinitely safer to me than certain districts of our cities or the Paris metro at late hours.

 

With "Leica  " we however took the precaution of stopping only at night anchoring near one of the banks of the Nile, far from the villages. We didn't feel any pressure except one night, when I was awakened by a noise, I went out to hunt with a gaff (I tapped next to his hands) an individual clinging to the railings. I still cannot say today if his intention was dishonest. After several encounters with the fishermen of the Nile, I do not believe him and I think that his boat accidentally hit our boat and that he was trying to restore his balance.

 

An interesting experience. We did our shopping in the markets of the villages we passed through. At kom Ombo I leave with Ewa and Melody to do some shopping in the middle of a colorful crowd. In Egypt the children are kings and Melody attracted us a multitude of curious smiles and wishes of welcome: "Welcome in Egypt". Suddenly a little girl accompanied by her mother pulls Ewa by the sleeve and hands her, to our great astonishment, her wallet from which a wad of banknotes (about 1000 francs) was sticking out. A fortune compared to salary and standard of living. A gesture that means a lot to us. So lose your wallet in a supermarket in France.

 

The art and the way to pass a lock without depth

 

A small anecdote among a thousand is significant of the daily problems that we had to solve: navigation on the Nile, contrary to what one might think by seeing the evolution of hotel boats, is not easy for various reasons. For example, the annual drop in the waters of the river (regulated by dams for agricultural reasons) requires decades of experience from their commanders. The draft of these boats less than 1.20 meters is essential. These commanders recruited from felucca and boatmen from the Nile have no particular education, rarely speaking English, they know every meter of the river and their sense of observation calls day and night on a formidable visual memory. They couldn't believe their eyes to see "Leica " tumbling under spinnaker in Aswan, especially when they learned that there had been no guide on board since Alexandria._cc781905-5cde-3194- bb3b-136bad5cf58d_ The secret weapon: the sounder and the logic of fluid mechanics. The current by the effect of the centrifugal force erodes more the external part of the curve of the river and its bed is at this place the deepest. The problem becomes more complicated when one discovers that under its surface the bed of the river is sometimes different from what the configuration of its banks suggests. In addition, you have to manage to find the passage to change the bank because obviously the depth is intimately linked to the width of the main current... (wide = little bottom and sandbanks, narrow = everything is fine, on average 3 to 6 meters - In Aswan the maximum depths recorded by "Leica  " were 52 meters) we did not encounter anything insurmountable until the day when in Hammadi the threshold and the bottom of a lock offered only 50 centimeters of depth against the 90 draft of "Leica"   in charge... The level of the water stays low for one or two months every year. Many barges or even hotel boats thus wait several weeks for the rise in the water level to pass.

 

The lock keepers try to explain that it is impossible to pass. Must wait. But one of my mottos is to say that for every problem there is a solution....  in the face of the stoppage and the failure of the expedition (an expectation of a month or more was financially impossible), thoughtful, sitting on a quay, I watch barges, one of which revs its engine while powerfully stirring the waters of the Nile. Eureka!

 

Negotiations, discussions, drawings, gestures, and the ultimate argument: the God Dollar, I end up maneuvering two of the barges to place them aft facing the entrance to the lock. Engines full ahead, the level of water enclosed in the cul-de-sac rises ostensibly and "Leica ",  transformed into a 3 x 4 hybrid vehicle (keel + its two rudders) skips, scrapes, balks but advances centimeter by centimeter in a howl of engines. The water is boiling, the level is rising. On board, we jump on the spot to lighten the boat which suddenly ends up finding itself grotesquely stranded in the lock when the engines of the barges stop. Never mind, the door can close and Leica   escapes from this trap to the cheers and ovations of an enthusiastic crowd... to believe that the whole town aware of an unusual event had gathered for the occasion.
 

 

The Gulf Crisis

 

The Gulf War didn't make it easy for us, but as a stubborn and stubborn Breton, I achieved around 90% of my initial programme. 90% because in my project was planned a transport of the boat on the other side of the Aswan dam by a helicopter as well as its removal Leica  " under sail in the desert sailing in the sand to the waterline where the Nile passed at the foot of the pyramids a few thousand years ago.

 

In Egypt, even if you have to learn to ask permission to ask permission to get permission to get permission..., anything is possible. The secret: the legendary time, patience, tenacity and kindness of the Egyptians. The multiple permissions of the various departments (Antiquities, Police, Security, Information, Tourism, River Police, Air Force, Tourist Police) were given, everything was ready for the final bouquet of the report but the Gulf War decided otherwise . The Egyptian Air Force unfortunately has other concerns at the moment and is canceling the mission.

 

I do not give up and decide to try the operation with a truck and a crane...

 

A formidable economic weapon -

 

Egypt in this period of crisis is deserted by tourists. The threats of terrorist attacks loom there as in all the countries involved directly or indirectly in the Gulf conflict. Without the burden of a boat it is quite possible for the traditional tourist to have a wonderful trip away from the crowds and the hustle and bustle. In tourist areas, at no time, more than anywhere else in the world, was our safety in danger. These threats are mainly easy and terribly effective economic weapons. Their effect in the future will probably be more devastating than the bombs themselves. Egypt, as everyone knows, struggles against many problems and especially against the effects of galloping demography. The crisis cut it off from its main source of income: tourism. Its economic balance, already precarious, is in vertiginous fall and suggests a rather dark and devastating future for this country.

 

Pro-Iraqi fundamentalism is not currently the main threat because the majority of the population understands that the war keeps tourism away. its standard of living (already very low) drop below the tolerable threshold so the risk of riots can spread like wildfire.

 

The hospitality and generosity of the poor -

 

We have known wonderful moments spent with the people of the Nile, a population apart: sailors, felouqiers or even these families of fishermen who all along the Nile live day and night on small boats that do not even allow you to lie down to sleep. Simple people, destitute of everything, who tirelessly never failed to offer tea, vegetables, bread or fish... their method of fishing dates back to the time of the pharaohs.

 

Execution & vendetta

 

What can we also say about this magical and peaceful evening under a moonlight shimmering with a thousand lights in the waters of the Nile. -3194-bb3b-136bad5cf58d_ we enjoy a soda when; suddenly, at  maybe a kilometer from the boat rockets burst and the stacato of automatic weapons punctuated by explosions of grenades ...  battle cries, groans of agony and horror rise in a night streaked by tracer bullets... A red rocket marks the end of hostilities... followed shortly after by the cries and tears of women who have come to pick up the dead. Arrived in Luxor, the authorities explain the existence of centenary revenges between families. It's quite a tradition. A code of honor regulates these fights. A family having had a death (sometimes several generations before) plans to take revenge and carefully chooses the member of the opposing family: in order to cause as much damage as possible, for the sake of efficiency, we always choose the most cultured person. and the richest. In their village, the children of opposing families grow up and go to school together. They play throughout their childhood with the friend who, when they reach adulthood, becomes the enemy according to an implacable logic.

 

This savvy person has no way of escaping anywhere in the world. Revenge always works. The only way to avoid it is to take in his hands the sheet that will be used for the burial to wrap his body and give it to the opposing family. Any action of revenge then stops immediately. But it is to lose and flout the honor of the family which very often eliminates the "black sheep" itself.... this fight represents little danger for an outside person who would find himself by chance caught between the two fires. . The shooting stops to let it pass and resumes with renewed vigor... in the meantime, we got a real scare in this context of international crisis... we really thought that Sudan was going on the attack.

 

Aswan

 

Night falls, Leica cc781905-5cde-3194-bb3b-136bad5cf58d_ vanishes into the distance. Aboard the "Armor Nautic" Zodiac, I rush towards our goal, a few kilometers away, to find a felouquier capable of guiding us. Indeed, if on all the ascent of the Nile we ran aground a few times on sandbanks, here it is about blocks of granite at the water's edge. No question of guessing them with the sounder...

 

I come back on board with the rare pearl who has found nothing better than to rush us at 5 knots on a rock, to tell me that he knew this place, without explaining to me why he did not avoid it and to claim a royal bribe as a reward. What nerve ! but in this area nothing surprises us.

 

I simply regret that there have been no crocodiles on this side of the dam for a long time because I would have gladly strangled it before throwing it to these friendly little creatures...

 

The entire structure of the port rudder is damaged. Even if the latter works, it seems to me impossible to make the descent on the Nile in the direction of the current. Too much risk of failure. The rudder may tear off causing a leak and the loss of "Leica  ". There is even less question of facing the storms of the Mediterranean in this state.

 

We stayed 23 days in Aswan with a multitude of problems to solve.

 

Because of this sponsor who let us down at the last moment, financing was a permanent and major concern. Throughout the trip we lived an incredible and trying suspense finding at the last moment the resources to continue until the next stage.... everything seems lost to us, enraged with despair we fire from scratch on all the markets , trying to sell some of our many stories by fax and phone, never knowing what the next day might bring. It worked in Greece... maybe it can work in Spain...

 

Ewa and Melody return to France... on their way to conquer the Spanish market...

 

The Head of Egyptian Homeland Security gave me his blessing in Cairo to bring "Leica " across the dam to Abu Simbel. Despite the formal order to let us through, the head of security in Aswan drove us crazy for 23 days. One day yes, one day no, one day yes,  we transport Leica   on the road to the dam, one of its officers comes ask us to turn around at the last moment. Golf crisis or story of Bakchich to which we have not yielded since Luxor for lack of means? In both cases, this man, not respecting the orders of his superiors,  seems ill-placed in the context to ensure the protection of a dam on which the entire survival of his country depends.

 

Exhausting! I was there to take pictures and in 23 days we had the luxury of 2 hours of shooting in a magnificent setting...

 

After an intervention from Cairo, I finally get a green light which seems very real this time... but the radio and the newspapers announce threats from Sudan (Mr Mohamed Hussein of the Aswan Information Office reports that an Iraqi missile base located in this country has already been destroyed by the Egyptian air force). We have just spent 2 days locked in our hotel surrounded by a multitude of sleepy armed guards in every corner...

 

In this context, reluctantly, I decide to cancel the cruise on Lake Nasser. I wasn't even sure I had permission to bring "Leica " back to the right side of the dam on my return.

 

I struggled in vain for a week to find a truck and ended up phoning my new friends at the French Embassy in Cairo.

 

- "We'll see what we can do"

 

A few days later Fickry calls me. He is responsible for the transport and logistics services of SOGEA Metro Cairo.

 

- "But how much does the transport cost?"

- "How ?" ...

- "Don't worry, we take care of everything!"

- "But, your truck, how much should we pay for it?"

- "Do you need a crane? We can provide you with one, no problem, we take care of everything" ...

 

Dialogue of the deaf... no way of knowing the price of transport. Something is wrong, this man on the phone does not seem at all to be a mercantile thirsty for profit and bribe of the type to present an invoice accompanied by a knife to his throat once the service has been rendered. His voice is clear and his thoughts clear...

 

Luck  is there. I didn't need to explain that I was at my wit's end, exhausted, tired, tested by all the anxieties and uncertainties of the moment.  And I finally understood in a little cloud of happiness that Fickry and Sogea, contacted by the French Embassy, spontaneously and free of charge offered me the escape of "Leica " by road.

 

A gesture of solidarity that I am not about to forget.

 

Let us mention in passing that the Cairo Metro is a veritable underground pyramid of modern Egypt. Its construction is a real tour de force, a feat in the broadest sense of the term.

 

An eventful evening or a missed blunder -

 

Invited for dinner on Elephantine Island in Aswan, we disembark at night in a Zodiac. Barely engaged on the island we are challenged in Arabic by a distant man of about twenty meters. Dominique my teammate launches while walking:

 

-  "forget it, it's another guy who wants a bribe" 

a few steps further, the voice is heard with an even more imperative intonation. Instinct, experience of Africa

 

- "Let's stop, this guy may be armed..."

 

I illuminate the individual with a torch and I discover with amazement the reflection of a revolver in an unsteady and trembling hand ... 

 

We light up to show that we have no weapons... slowly approaching us, pronouncing in Arabic the few words learned during the trip.

 

- "No problem, everything is fine, Ok"

 

So much for being in direct contact with this guy to try to disarm him before one of his tremors triggers an untimely shot. At the very moment when I decide to take action the man who seemed more and more nervous and agitated lowers his weapon... heat, adrenaline and all the rest... the danger departs and as well as badly we pronounce the name  of Joséphine this Dutchwoman who lives on the island with her three children.... charming dinner in the company of a family super exiled in this corner of the end of the world.

 

Explanation: Elephantine Island is a tourist spot frequented by daytime tourists and the only way to get there is by organized felucca trip. A few weeks earlier, looting took place at archaeological sites in the region. The Antiquities services are unforgivable for having entrusted a weapon to an illiterate guard to guard this place where obviously sooner or later innocent people can end up accidentally landing outside  of the hours and the ritual of organized trips by felucca. Of course there is no prohibition sign since it is not prohibited...

 

"The sun is crying..."

 

We load Leica on the most beautiful truck in the world, not without difficulty. Dominique and two Egyptian friends escort him in a taxi. Comfortably installed in the plane which has just made a stopover in Luxor, I observe the road along the Nile and I see my boat rolling on the truck. I fly over one of the most beautiful rivers in the world and from my memory arise the thousands of memories of our adventure....well, we ran aground in this curve, there we stopped in this village... etc... life is beautiful, the show is splendid and I find one of my favorite modes of vision: the aerial view.

 

I'm going to Cairo as a scout to sort out the problems of this shot in front of the pyramids.  I find a semblance of organization there despite the Gulf crisis and all the green lights are given for allow me to take this photo. Relentlessness always ends up paying off in this damn job,

 

A certain form of innocence, stubbornness and delirious optimism have always enabled me to overcome all obstacles.

 

From a hotel I call France:

"Hello Eva!"

"Alain, I'm back from Spain. I sold everything!"

 

At the other end of the world, Melody gets impatient and calls for me.

- "Hello Dad, that's it Dad, are you going home? ... you know the sun is crying here?"

- "How does Melody the sun cry?"

- "Yes, it's raining in Le Croisic"

- "You know Melody, it's almost over I'll be home  soon" ...

 

The rain ? I dream !

 

Checkmate

 

.... I'm delighted, we will, thanks to the Spanish magazines, be able to load Leica  on a cargo ship. I explain to Ewa that we're on the right track and that I'm finally going to take this sacred photo.

 

- "Ewa, we have our photo. I have all the green lights and the blessing of all the services, the Information Office and the Secretary of State for Tourism who asked me to take a photo of the boat with a sign on which is written 'Here is Peace - Egyptian Tourist Office'. They are super motivated. Everything is ok. It's great!"

 

One morning, the truck arrives at the foot of the pyramids. Everything is in place, even the light is there when a group approaches us. A woman asks us, without introducing herself and unceremoniously to clear the area urgently. A threat of terrorist attack is underway on the site. Death in the soul we take the road to Alexandria.

 

After about ten days of formalities and a veritable "fighter's journey" through the mysteries of port administration and customs, "Leica " returned to France on the freighter. Phew!

 

I learn later that the person asking us to get out of the Pyramids area had no authority, that there was no threat of an attack that day. It was a secretary whose name and function I learn from the tape: Mrs. Amal Samawel of the Antiquities Service...? Yet this Service had been informed by the Ministry of Tourism and everything was clear? Another blunder of Antiquities but not missed this one...

 

In my mind a new uncertainty arises now. How will my photos be? There too, anything can happen to the 250 reels of film which are currently passing the test of truth in the chemistry of a laboratory.

 

An open look at the world makes it possible to realize in a second that there are other problems and terrible miseries on earth.

 

As an American friend said:

 

"At the height of a 'storm',  thinks it could be worse."

 

Today, the suspense continues in the newsrooms... I have the best job in the world, one hell of a chance and a wonderful little family waiting for me in our little house in Le Croisic. Le Croisic in the rain ... what happiness!

 

The next report? .... very soon.... in Egypt... "Inch Allah!"

 

To conclude, I hope that international magazines will open their pages to my photos, hoping that they will encourage their readers to spend their next vacation in this wonderful country. Rest assured, the organizers of Egyptian tourism are great professionals who will know how to help them avoid the small inconveniences that we encountered while taking the side roads.

 

Text by Alain Guillou    Mandatory mention

 

 

 

 

 

Composition of the crew:

 

Because of the duration of the expedition, the team members took turns throughout the course.

 

Alain Guillou      - Photographe et skyper_cc781905-5cde- 3194-bb3b-136bad5cf58d_  France

Ewa Guillou & Melody (3 ans)     _cc781905- 5cde-3194-bb3b-136bad5cf58d_     _cc781905-5cde- 3194-bb3b-136bad5cf58d_      France

Steve Mc Gruder    -  Equipier _cc781905-5cde-3194 -bb3b-136bad5cf58d_     _cc781905-5cde-3194-bb3b -136bad5cf58d_      _cc781905 -5cde-3194-bb3b-136bad5cf58d_USA

Jean-Pierre Denion -  Equipier    _cc781905-5cde- 3194-bb3b-136bad5cf58d_     _cc781905-5cde-3194- cc781905-5cde-3194-bb3b-136bad5cf58d_ _cc781905-5cde-3194-bb3b-136bad5cf58d

Jerôme Panine      -_cc781905-5cde-3194-bb3b -136bad5cf58d_ Equipier     _cc781905-5cde-3194-bb3b- 136bad5cf58d_      _cc781905- France

Dominique Ducos    -  Equipier _cc781905-5cde-3194- bb3b-136bad5cf58d_     _cc781905-5cde-3194-bb3b- 136bad5cf58d_      _cc781905- 5cde-3194-bb3b-136bad5cf58d_ France

Chouckry Saad       -  Assistance to Aswan  _cc781905-5cde-3194-bb3b-58d_Egypt

 

 

Technique of navigation on the Nile

 

Sailing on the Nile may seem easy when you are comfortably installed on the bank and you see one of these 300 hotel boats sailing for the most part between Luxor and Aswan but also for some between Cairo and Luxor.

 

For "Leica  " many problems arose:

 

A- Draft limitation.

B- Total impossibility of obtaining any information whatsoever on the water height of the locks and the most delicate passages of the Nile. The only thing we knew was that the water level was the lowest of the year.

C- State of the Nile, for example total obstruction by water hyacinths (or flowers of the Nile). State of maintenance of the irrigation canals that we took to pass through the heart of the Delta.

D- Ignorance of bad passages.

C- Height of the bridges and again impossible to obtain precise information.

 

The draft of Leica   empty is given for 76 cm. In charge we were + - 90cm. The choice of boat was essential.

 

It had to be a weighted dinghy capable of sailing under sail with its centerboard fully raised without drifting too much. This even at speeds close to the wind.

 

It must of course have irreproachable marine qualities. The Mediterranean is no joke.

 

The First 305 Bénéteau, a bi-rudder dinghy, imposed itself on our minds despite two small flaws specific to the needs of this expedition:

 

- difficulty in adapting an effective dismasting system.

  - the two tilted rudders at the rear are extraordinarily efficient at sea, especially in heavy weather and they allow you to keep control of the boat for longer when heeling. On the other hand, during the groundings on the Nile, there was no way to artificially reduce the draft by causing the boat to list. The only way to get aground was to put weight forward by moving the crew there. (Consequences: re-stranding in force.)

 

 

Thanks

 

I would like  to sincerely thank all the people who helped me, without whom this report would not exist and who understood the media scope of this company and the help it can bring to the development of Egyptian tourism: SOGEA Cairo Metro - Government Press and Information Service - Office for the Promotion of Tourism - Egyptian Air Force which spontaneously adhered to the idea of transporting "Leica_cc781905-5cde-3194-bb3b -136bad5cf58d_" with a helicopter in front of the pyramids and on Lake Nasser. (See attached the "rough" of the photo made by the advertising designer Christian Paty).

 

Special thanks to Chouckry Saad, public relations officer of the Aswan Tourism Office, without whom nothing would have been possible in this city.

 

And then, of course,  all the sponsors who took part in this expedition: "Leica", "Leica Camera", Ville du Croisic, Gérard Lemerle Sarl, Armor Nautic, Bénéteau, Plastimo, Icom , Nauta, JCM Slides, Magic Mast Ladders and Furltec reels, Allmer clothing, Cocako-Spanset straps and slings and Fuji Films France.

 

A few more words on the resistance and the exceptional qualities of the construction of "Leica" cc781905-5cde-3194-bb3b-136bad5cf58d_ a First 305 Bénéteau which had to face between Crete and the Peloponnese winds above 80 knots. (local weather engineers gave much higher figures because of the acceleration created by a venturi effect due to the relief of the mountains of Crete bordering the strait. The wind was raising waves of 4 to 8 meters and perhaps more by The super tankers, ferries and other large ships preferred, that day, to take refuge behind the Peloponnese while waiting for the end of the storm.

 

                  

 

Alain Guillou has to his credit numerous photo reports published by the biggest French and international magazines: National Geographic, Life, Stern, Bunte, Le Figaro Magazine, Paris Match, Geo etc... (Europe, North and South America, Japan, Australia and the Middle East).

 

Among his most famous reports (several hundred publications): "The American billionaire Malcolm Forbes", "The flight over Kenya in a motorized paraglider", "The historic flight over Paris of the Replica of the balloon of the First Human Flight", during of the bi-centenary of Air and Space, "Crossing Iceland by snowboard", "Venice under the snow", "The Daughters of the Swedish Navy", "Safari in a balloon in Kenya" etc.

 

A list of 80 reports is available on request.