Cyril Derreumaux: Epic Kayak Adventures, Crossing the Pacific & Atlantic Oceans

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Cyril Derreumaux left a dock in Monterey, California, in a 400-kilogram kayak named Valentine — built in England by a retired boatbuilder who came out of retirement just for this project — and paddled, alone, 2,400 nautical miles across the Pacific Ocean to Hawaii. It took him 90 days.
He'd estimated 70. He ran out of GPS battery mid-crossing and sat in the dark unable to see or be seen by container ships. He cried every single day. He loved every single moment of it.

But there had been a first attempt. A 35-knot gale on day three. A para-anchor line tangled in his rudder. Three days without sleep, vomiting from stress. The Coast Guard helicopter. A year of quietly starting over. This is the story of how Cyril turned that failure into a framework — and then crossed the ocean again, alone, unsupported, just him and the flying fish and the albatross.

At the time of recording, Cyril was preparing to do it again: the Atlantic Ocean, El Hierro to Barbados. He became the first person ever to kayak solo across both the Pacific and the Atlantic.

Chapters

00:00 Pacific departure — the moment of leaving the dock
02:27 Background — from France to California via five countries
04:53 From wine to waves — how kayaking found Cyril at 32
07:22 Great Pacific Race — 39 days, four nations, one Guinness record
09:46 Going solo — why only four people had done it before
12:02 Training for the unknown — joints, tendons and a year of preparation
14:17 The four-nationality crew — conflict, efficiency and record-breaking
16:43 Solo vs. team — why being alone on the ocean is better
19:08 Building Valentine — the custom ocean kayak
21:26 Ocean engineering — weight, ballast and para-anchors
23:52 First attempt — rescued by the Coast Guard
26:14 A year of preparation — hypnosis, cold water and a box in the garden
28:37 Life on the ocean — nights, wildlife and a dead GPS
31:01 Post-expedition blues — coming back to land
33:25 The Atlantic Crossing — planning the next chapter
35:49 Call to Adventure — find your vibration
38:12 Pay It Forward — leave it better than you found it
40:31 Closing — where to follow the journey

What You'll Learn:
• Why only four people had solo-kayaked an ocean before Cyril — and what makes a kayak crossing  so much harder than rowing across an ocean
• The "mental flexibility" framework that gets you through ten more hours when everything hurts
• How Cyril built a replica of his kayak cabin in his backyard and worked from it every afternoon  — and why it was the most important piece of preparation he did
• What a para-anchor is, why it failed, and what Cyril learned from being rescued by the Coast  Guard on his first attempt
• The AIS sleep schedule: why Cyril woke up every hour at sea, and the night he woke to complete  darkness with his GPS dead
• The post-expedition distress syndrome — and what only another adventurer truly understands

CYRIL DERREUMAUX | Solo Ocean Kayaker, World Record Holder & Keynote Speaker

• Website: cyrilderreumaux.com
• Atlantic journey: solokayaktheatlantic.com
• Instagram: instagram.com/cyrildx
• LinkedIn: linkedin.com/in/cyrilderreumaux
• Pay It Forward: Leave every place better than you found it — pick up litter, even if it's not yours

ABOUT CYRIL DERREUMAUX
French-born adventurer and keynote speaker now based in Sausalito, California. Cyril started kayaking at 32 with no background in the sport. By 42, after a decade of progressively pushing his limits — from 40-mile outrigger races to the 440-mile Yukon River Quest to the Great Pacific Race (Guinness World Record, 39 days, four nationalities, one crew) — he had become the fifth person ever to solo-kayak across an ocean, paddling 2,400 nautical miles from California to
Hawaii unsupported in 90 days. He subsequently became the first person to complete solo kayak crossings of both the Pacific and the Atlantic Oceans.



For full show notes and links, visit: adventurediaries.com/go

Transcript

[CHAPTER: Pacific Departure — The Moment of Leaving the Dock — 00:00]

CYRIL: The very first day, people think you're going to be afraid — and it's actually a sense of relief. When you leave the dock, you've been wanting that for months and months and there's a stress build-up. The moment I left — obviously there's a moment where it's sad, you leave all your loved ones behind and you have all this uncertainty — but there's really a sense of adventure, a sense of: okay, now it's me and the ocean. I love it. That's what I want. You feel joy and happiness.

There are so many lessons I got to tell you about that failure. People don't like to call it failure because they say there's no failure, it's just learning opportunities. But I think we shouldn't be afraid of the word. Yes, I failed. I didn't cross. But why? And it's in answering the why that you learn the most.

When I speak to a school — here in California, 900 kids from 12 to 14 — imagine if I just put a little seed of adventure in their hearts at 14. What will they do in ten years? I love this.

[00:02] CHRIS: Welcome to another episode of Adventure Diaries. Today I'm joined by Cyril Derreumaux. Cyril is a world-record-breaking adventure kayaker whose feats include the Great Pacific Race, the Yukon Race, and his daring solo kayak crossing of the Pacific Ocean from the USA to Hawaii. Cyril is a French native who now resides on the West Coast of the USA. He transitioned from the wine industry to becoming a full-time adventurer and motivational speaker. Cyril's story is not just about physical endurance — it's about mental resilience too. Today he shares his insights from these voyages: the harrowing storms, the failed first attempt, and the highs and lows of what it truly takes to endure on such formidable challenges. We also touch on his preparation for his next epic kayaking adventure — the Atlantic Crossing. Settle in and enjoy this conversation with Cyril Derreumaux.

Cyril Derreumaux, welcome to Adventure Diaries. How are you?

CYRIL: I'm doing fantastic. How are you, my brother?

CHRIS: I'm excellent — very excited about this. Thank you for your patience getting organised.

[CHAPTER: Background — From France to California via Five Countries — 02:27]

[02:27] CHRIS: I want to focus this conversation on your epic paddling adventures to date and the even more epic adventure that awaits next year. A brief introduction: you are an ultra-endurance adventurer — and a world record holder. You've broken Guinness World Records for the Great Pacific Race and your solo kayak from California to Hawaii. But I want to roll back a little and understand your background, because you're a French native who now lives on the West Coast. How did that come to be?

CYRIL: So I'm 47 years old, and until I was 18 I lived in France. I did my regular studies up to baccalauréat — that's 12th grade before college. I call those 18 years my roots. I was lucky to grow up in a strong family household in a small village and have a really good childhood. After growing those roots, I found my wings.

From the moment I left at 18 — as an exchange student in Arkansas — I wanted to live overseas and learn new languages. I came back and said: I'm going to do international studies. I did a master's degree in international business: a year in Oxford, a year in Madrid, a year in Paris. Then I moved to Milan for two years to learn Italian. After Milan, I had the project of travelling. While everyone else started working in banks, I needed to see the world. I didn't care about money. I didn't care about a first car. I saved a little money — 7,000 euros — and did a year backpacking around the world: South America, North America, Southeast Asia, India.

After that I found a job teaching English and playing football in Brazil for six months. I learned Portuguese. Then I was back in France, but then recruited to go to Argentina for two years — I opened a subsidiary for a barrel company; French oak is really good for wine ageing. Long story short, after Argentina I was sent by another company to California to manage their subsidiary in the wine business. I've been here about ten years in the wine business — and I'm still here now.

[CHAPTER: From Wine to Waves — How Kayaking Found Cyril — 04:53]

[04:53] CHRIS: How did you transition from the wine industry to being almost a full-time adventurer and motivational speaker? Have you only been paddling about ten years?

CYRIL: My sport was always football — soccer, as they say here. Wherever I went — Argentina, Brazil, Italy, Spain, England — I played football. I could make friends immediately. I moved to the US and played here, but I didn't really love the spirit. A friend of mine said, "Hey, why don't you come paddling?" I'd never kayaked before. I'd done some windsurfing in French Brittany when I was younger, but kayaking — no. I was 32 when I started for the first time. And when I was 42 — only ten years after the first moment I put my backside in a kayak — I dared myself to cross solo and unsupported. Can you believe that? Ten years.

I think it was very much the spirit of this country, the energy where people say: if you want to go for it, go for it. That combined with my personality — always looking for experiences that make me vibrate — worked perfectly. Little by little, I started doing more and more on the water. First canoeing, then kayaking, then rowing, then more kayaking.

CHRIS: Were you always on the West Coast, in the Bay Area, for your paddling?

CYRIL: Mostly yes — there's so much to do here. I've done a few other races, in Texas and Canada, but it was mostly the West Coast.

And actually I didn't answer your question about how I moved from the wine business to adventure. The wine business was my passion. I liked quality products. Part of my job was to taste wine — I loved it. But it's funny how priorities change. After ten years, the job became less interesting. Then COVID happened. I created my own company, started importing furniture. Then the container ships became expensive and it stopped. And I said: everything's blocked — I'm going to be an adventurer full time. I decided to build this kayak in England for the ocean crossing, and that was a huge challenge in itself.

[CHAPTER: Great Pacific Race — 39 Days, 4 Nations, 1 Record — 07:22]

[07:22] CHRIS: Going back before we come to the solo crossing — you talk about mental flexibility, but physically, how do you prepare for something of that endurance? And you've done it as a team event first — the Great Pacific Race, 39 days, a speed race with four friends?

CYRIL: First I started with a Polynesian outrigger canoe — a six-man craft. They're a national sport in Hawaii and Tahiti. In those canoes you do races up to maybe 40 miles, about six hours. Then I pushed the envelope: there's a race of 100 miles, about 12 hours. Then the Yukon River Quest — 440 miles, 45 hours. And little by little I recognised that although I'm not very strong or very fast, I can keep going. There's something about ultra endurance that matches me: not mental strength, but what I call mental flexibility — where you allow yourself to reframe the situation so it becomes bearable. Okay, you're hurting. How can you change that so you can keep going for the next ten hours?

So it was the rowing shell — a rowing boat from California to Hawaii. I stumbled on the Great Pacific Race website. It said: "You don't have to be a rower to row an ocean." I'd never rowed. I said — of course. Yes, you need to know the technique, but his point was that it's really about your attitude and how you manage all the other factors: hygiene, sleep deprivation, seasickness, eating, team dynamics. We rowed from California to Hawaii and broke the Guinness World Record in 39 days and 12 hours.

The Guinness is the cherry on top for me — never my goal. It's cool for sponsors. But honestly, it's always been about the adventure: being out there on the ocean with no land in sight for months. Very appealing to me.

[CHAPTER: Going Solo — The Decision to Cross the Pacific Alone — 09:46]

[09:46] CHRIS: How do you go from racing with a team to a solo crossing? Because in the history of ocean kayaking — there had been only four people who'd done it solo before you?

CYRIL: Right. There have been around 800 ocean crossings in rowing boats across all oceans combined. About 230 solo, more or less. In a kayak, there had been four. The reason there have been so few is that a kayak is a much smaller vessel — it has to be narrow because you use paddles rather than oars, and you need to touch the water on both sides simultaneously. So it rocks and rolls constantly. The cabin is smaller, far more confined. How do you carry enough food? There's no blueprint.

Part of the appeal for me was that I had done all these great achievements, always with other people. I'm an extrovert — I love people. But I said: okay, I want to see what I'd do on my own. Part of the challenge was pushing my comfort zone to see what I was capable of alone.

[CHAPTER: Training for the Unknown — Joints, Tendons and a Box in the Garden — 12:02]

[12:02] CHRIS: Physically, how did you prepare? Did you build up like a marathon runner?

CYRIL: It's really hard to correlate ultra endurance at 45 to 50 hours with two months at sea. You have to look at every possible problem — physical, mental, emotional, gear — and then work out how to mitigate each one.

Physically: how do I train for paddling 10 to 12 hours a day? It's not paddling hard — it's like walking 12 hours a day. I'm never sweating. The problem isn't muscular; it's the joints and tendons. Everything repetitive could become a tennis elbow or nerve issue. So I needed to think a year out: which tendons and joints will be under load? How do I train them without overuse injury?

My own recipe was to treat the body as one complete unit. One day: an hour of yoga, an hour of running. Next day: an hour of biking, an hour of kayaking. Next day: an hour of weights, an hour of yoga or hiking. The idea was to get the body so well trained that I could do any activity without cramps or injury.

A friend of mine, Scott Donaldson, crossed the Tasman Sea — Australia to New Zealand. He told me: "Chris, if I put you on a boat and told you to paddle 12 hours a day or you're dead, you'd do it. Overweight, untrained, you'd do it. Your body would adjust." The whole point of training is to compress that adaptation time — maybe from a month down to a week.

[CHAPTER: The Four-Nationality Crew — Conflict and the Guinness Record — 14:17]

[14:17] CHRIS: With the team of four on the Pacific Race — you had rotating shifts. How did the sleep situation work?

CYRIL: We only had two rowing seats and wanted the boat moving at all times. So two people row, two people rest. The rotation is about 90 minutes to two hours — after that your output drops. Off shift: 15 minutes to remove salt from your body, 15 minutes eating, then maybe 45 minutes of sleep. Then back on shift. Brutal.

Here's something interesting about breaking the record. If each shift change takes five minutes — putting on gloves, sunscreen, a quick bathroom stop — that's five minutes times 16 shifts per day equals 80 minutes lost. 80 minutes times 70 days is 75 hours — that's three days. So just by being ready to row the moment your shift starts, you can shave three days off the total time. That's how you get the record.

Did that cause conflict? Of course. We had four nationalities: me from France, Carlo from the US, Fian from Iceland, Chago from Brazil. What happens on the boat stays on the boat. We managed to keep it together until the end.

CHRIS: Are you all still friends?

CYRIL: It's really hard to find people who want to do this. When you put a crew together, they're not childhood friends — they're people from four different cultures. The people they are on land don't necessarily correlate to who they are on the water when sleep-deprived and exhausted. It's part of the trip to learn from it, and that's okay.

[CHAPTER: Solo vs. Team — Why Being Alone in the Ocean Is Better — 16:43]

[16:43] CYRIL: When I was alone on the solo crossing, I was like: I don't care when I get there, I just want to get there. If I want to stop and watch a whale, I watch the whale. If I want to see a turtle or the flying fish — it was so much more about the experience, doing it my own way. The most important thing is how you define success. You're the only one who defines it.

CHRIS: That resonates. A few adventurers have said something similar. Ash Dykes told me he found himself on the clock on a cycling trip and decided to change his whole approach — taking the adventure in rather than racing through it.

CYRIL: Exactly. I've done the Yukon River Quest three times and I'm competitive — whatever I do, I do my best. The third time, my partner hurt his back two weeks before departure. I found another friend at the last minute. I said: let's not race. Let's go for the adventure. We stopped, made a small fire, sat in the midnight sun in the Yukon at 12 a.m. — and that was the race I enjoyed most. There was no pressure of performing.

On my solo kayak crossing to Hawaii, my criteria for success were: one, stay alive; two, get there; three, enjoy the journey. No time limit. No pressure. And I followed that.

[CHAPTER: Building Valentine — The Custom Ocean Kayak — 19:08]

[19:08] CHRIS: Tell me about your kayak, Valentine — named after your sister. How was it custom built?

CYRIL: There were three people who had done it before me. I called all of them. First: Peter Bray, who crossed the North Atlantic from Canada to Ireland in 2001. His boat has a cabin in the stern. He took two attempts, 76 days. Then Scott Donaldson, who crossed the Tasman Sea — three attempts — with a slimmer, faster design with the cabin in the bow. Then Ed Gillette, who crossed my ocean — California to Hawaii — with a kite. And Alexander Dober from Poland, who crossed the Atlantic three times, though I couldn't speak to him directly as his English was limited.

I looked at everything and made my argument: I want all the technology from the first crossing, but with safety as the first priority. I've got two kids. I want to enjoy the rest of my life. I just love adventure — I'm not a maverick who wants to risk his life recklessly.

Peter Bray recommended Rob Filo in England, who had built his boat 20 years earlier. I called Rob. He was retired, no shop. But I must have been enthusiastic enough that he felt my energy, and he said: "I'll build my last boat for you." So he built Valentine — it took several months, and I named her after my sister.

[CHAPTER: Ocean Engineering — Weight, Ballast and Para-Anchors — 21:26]

[21:26] CHRIS: Can you explain the cabin? It must sit heavy in the water. What's the capsizing risk?

CYRIL: Boats built for ocean crossings don't steer very well. Mine fully loaded was around 800 pounds — about 400 kilograms. I carried 220 pounds of food. You have to carry that much; you're self-supported for three months.

All these boats are self-righting by design. I put the weight below the waterline: solar panels, two batteries, a watermaker. I was drinking about three to four litres a day so I needed to make my water. All the food is below the waterline. The cabin creates a large air pocket — if I capsize and close the hatch, the air brings it back up naturally. I also added sheets of lead to the bottom for ballast.

In storms, I use a para-anchor — like a parachute deployed on a long line that holds the bow into the waves so the wave rides across you rather than hitting broadside. Sometimes you have to stay drifting for two or three days. As long as the hatch is closed and watertight, you're safe. You just have to be mentally okay to wait it out.

[CHAPTER: First Attempt — Rescued by the Coast Guard — 23:52]

[23:52] CHRIS: Before you successfully crossed, you had an aborted first attempt. What happened?

CYRIL: I had read every book, spoken to every person who'd crossed an ocean, done it myself in a rowing boat. But a kayak behaves completely differently. You can listen to every podcast, read every book, speak to every person — until you have your backside in a storm, you don't know what it is.

My first attempt was in 2021. Three days into a 35-knot gale, gusting 40, with 10- to 15-foot waves, my para-anchor collapsed. One of the lines got entangled in my rudder, so the boat went parallel to the waves rather than perpendicular. Suddenly: options A, B and C.

Option A — go outside, dive under the boat, free the rudder by hand — means I get hit by the hull and knocked unconscious. Dead.

Option B — wait it out. Three more days at minimum. I was vomiting from stress. I wanted to escape. Unbearable.

Option C — call the Coast Guard. The ocean will always be there. I can go back, train better.

The Coast Guard came, picked me up by helicopter, left the boat on the water. Three days later I towed it back to land.

CHRIS: How did you feel after that? Defeated, or steely determined?

CYRIL: A mix of everything. I felt I hadn't been given a fair shot, and I wanted to do it again. But then I spoke to Scott Donaldson, and he kept asking: "Cyril, you were rescued. Were you prepared?" I said the storm was a malfunction, a piece of bad luck. He said again: "But you were rescued. Were you prepared?" And I finally had to admit that somewhere, I was not.

That year of recovery was about ups and downs — thinking about letting down everyone who'd believed in me. But the dream was always there. I was never giving up.

[CHAPTER: A Year of Preparation — Hypnosis, Cold Water and a Coffin-Box — 26:14]

[26:14] CHRIS: The second time round — did you have a full support team? I know you used a hypnotherapist and you're into visualisation.

CYRIL: You have to look at your strengths and weaknesses — and a strength can also be a weakness. I'm very emotional. I can get pumped up and bring energy, but I could also see that becoming detrimental. Maybe I cried every day during the crossing, thinking of my friends and my mum.

So for the mental side, I tried everything: Zazen meditation, hypnosis, a lot of yoga, cold water immersion — I love Wim Hof. I had a mental coach who works with firemen and elite athletes. His principle was: whatever you fear, you have to go towards it progressively, and you create automatisms so it becomes benign. First time driving a car, you're overwhelmed — gear, mirrors, traffic. Do it a thousand times and it's automatic. Same principle.

For instance: how do I get comfortable in my tiny cabin in a storm? I built a box exactly the same size as the cabin and put it in my backyard. I spent whole afternoons in it, working on my laptop, connected to the Wi-Fi, while my fiancée said: "You're 45 years old. What are you doing?" Then I slept on the boat on the trailer. Then on the boat at the dock. Then on a buoy in the middle of the bay on a calm day. Then on a stormy day. Progressively going towards what was hard.

For the second attempt I also changed jobs — I became a commercial diver, cleaning algae off boat hulls, so if I ever needed to free that rudder I'd be comfortable underwater and in cold water. Every lesson from the first failure became preparation.

CHRIS: That's real commitment.

[CHAPTER: Life on the Ocean — Nights, Wildlife and a Dead GPS — 28:37]

[28:37] CHRIS: What was it like on the boat at night? Were there calm nights where you could see the stars?

CYRIL: The first half — maybe the first 40 days — I was just too tired. I'd paddle sunrise to sundown and pass out the moment I closed the hatch. The cabin became my cocoon, my safe place. But I still had to wake every hour to check the AIS — the Automatic Identification System. Container ships travel at 15 knots. If my radar radius is 20 miles and it's clear, I can sleep for an hour. So I'd wake up, scan, clear, sleep another hour. Repeat all night.

Once something terrifying happened: it had been foggy for days, my solar panels couldn't recharge the battery properly. I woke in the middle of the night in complete darkness. Everything had shut down — GPS, lights, everything. If I couldn't see other boats, they couldn't see me. A container ship could be bearing down. I couldn't go outside — bad weather, I was in my underwear. So stressful. But eventually you get used to these situations and just deal with them.

The wildlife was probably the most beautiful thing. It was like National Geographic out there. I was doing only about 2 miles per hour, leaving from Monterey — which has excellent underwater topography, great for feeding marine life. So the first two weeks were full of whales and dolphins. Then albatross appeared — I love albatross. Throughout the journey different species came and went: tuna, mahi-mahi, flying fish as the water warmed up. Two hundred flying fish at once. Frigate birds chasing them. I saw birds every day for three months, even though I never saw land.

That's when you develop a deep respect for wildlife — these creatures flying day and night through storms and flat calms alike. And then you feel profound sadness seeing all the plastic out there.

[CHAPTER: Post-Expedition Blues — Coming Back to Land — 31:01]

[31:01] CHRIS: There's a post-adventure blues, isn't there?

CYRIL: It happened to me. It's a known syndrome — post-expedition distress. Like a kind of baby blues. The pace of ocean life is completely different: a simple routine, completely free, no emails, no phone calls, no social media. Going back to that stressful life is a shock. But for me it didn't last long — maybe a few days of feeling very emotional, having lived what I'd lived, wanting to share it. But then I quickly realised that whoever I shared it with couldn't really grasp what it meant — the connection with the waves, the feeling of being that small thing in that immensity. They hadn't been there. The relief came when I spoke with another adventurer who'd done something similar and said: "I get it." That made everything lighter.

[CHAPTER: The Atlantic Crossing — Planning the Next Chapter — 33:25]

[33:25] CHRIS: So the Atlantic is next. California to Hawaii was 2,400 nautical miles. What's the plan?

CYRIL: The Atlantic is considered slightly longer — about 2,600 nautical miles. But I'm starting from an island: El Hierro in the Canary Islands, the furthest west. The trade winds are more established in the Atlantic, so if I pick the right departure window the crossing should actually be more favourable. My estimate is about 75 days — though I was badly wrong on the first crossing; I thought 70 days, it took 90. So I'll carry food for 80 days and ration if needed.

The route: I bring Valentine to Cádiz in southern Spain, then a ferry to Tenerife, then to El Hierro. From El Hierro, I head west — north of the equator, across the North Atlantic — to Barbados, which is the first island and generally the easiest landing point for a vessel like mine.

I'm targeting a departure in December 2024. Everything is on track. Right now I'm refurbishing everything I can, and hunting hard for sponsors. The budget covers refurbishing the boat, shipping it to the Canary Islands, a two-week preparation on the ground with part of my crew, and getting the boat back from Barbados. Plus four months with no income while still paying a mortgage. Sponsors who share my values — resilience, adventure, purpose — have been stepping up.

CHRIS: I'll help spread the word through these channels and some expos I'm connected with.

CYRIL: Thank you. I love sharing the adventure — that's my purpose, I think. When I speak to 900 school kids aged 12 to 14 in California and put a tiny seed of adventure in their hearts... what will they do in ten years? I'll do that for free. Always.

[CHAPTER: Call to Adventure — Find Your Vibration — 35:49]

[35:49] CHRIS: We have two closing traditions on the show. First: your call to adventure. A suggestion to get people out into nature, doing something big or small.

CYRIL: Start with the definition of adventure. Adventure is excitement, spontaneity, fun — the opposite of routine and boredom. Why wouldn't you want adventure in your life?

So look at what adventure means for you. Maybe I'll hurt my wrist and can't kayak — so I cross Argentina with a camel or bring sheep across Mongolia. I don't care. Whatever makes you vibrate.

And if you're looking for adventure, you're looking for happiness. But sometimes we look for happiness in the wrong places: a bigger job, a bigger house, another car. Instead, look for vibration. Remember the last time you felt so good — a two-hour bike ride with friends, a trip overseas, learning a new skill. If you find vibration and adventure, whatever form that takes, that's good. It has to come from the heart.

It could be photographing butterflies, learning guitar, trying to see the biggest trees in the world, helping people learn Spanish. Whatever it is — it's adventure, it's vibration. Do it. I started kayaking at 32. It's never too late.

[CHAPTER: Pay It Forward — Leave It Better Than You Found It — 38:12]

[38:12] CHRIS: And our second tradition: Pay It Forward — a worthy cause or message to spread.

CYRIL: Something ocean-related — because I spoke about the pollution I saw out there. Most of your listeners who love nature already know not to drop plastic on a beach. But I think we need to change something: if you go to a beach and you see litter on the floor, not picking it up is almost as bad as having thrown it yourself. You didn't do it — but you could fix it.

If everybody had the mentality of: I'm going to leave every place I visit better than I found it — the power is in multiplying that. So just: pick it up. Leave no trace, even if it's someone else's trace.

[CHAPTER: Closing — Where to Follow the Atlantic Journey — 40:31]

[40:31] CHRIS: Thank you, Cyril. This has been an incredible conversation. I love your energy, your passion, everything you've done. I really appreciate you taking the time.

CYRIL: Thank you so much, Chris. Thanks to everyone listening. If you want to follow the Atlantic journey, it's solokayaktheatlantic.com. I hope to meet every one of you and share the passion of adventure in life.

CHRIS: Hopefully we can do a follow-up and talk about your success across the Atlantic as well.

CYRIL: One hundred percent — and the next one, and the one after that. Maybe the Amazon with you as well.

NARRATOR: Thanks for tuning in to today's episode. For show notes and further information, please visit adventurediaries.com/podcast. We hope to have inspired you to take action and plan your next adventure — big or small — because sometimes we all need a little adventure to cleanse that bitter taste of life from the soul. Until next time, have fun and keep paying it forward.