Tour des Yoles

When the Fort-de-France leg of the tour des yoles came around I thought I'd take a look, but I didn't really understand what all the fuss was about. A boat race, a traditional boat race, a very Martiniquan affair that draws a big crowd. The tour des yoles seems to be almost as important and celebrated as carnival. An excuse to drink and dance, it's possibly more important for tourism being entirely unique to Martinique. Carnival here can't compete with the world know Rio carnival and Trinidad's visual feast for the eyes.

The tour des yoles lasts a week, a week in which the boats race around the entire island in an anti-clock wise direction. Impressive, it is very physically demanding and the conditions can be tough especially in the north and east of the island. The best way of 'doing' the tour des yoles is to be on a catamaran following the race. Some catamarans are sponsored and drinks are free, it's a big party. But not very well adapted for those who suffer from sea sickness. With a typically Martiniquan or Caribbean twist the tour des yoles features a lot of skimpy, sparkly, almost non-existent swimwear (much like carnival only with a 'water' theme). There is even a Tour des Yoles magazine featuring the adventurous and risqué swimwear paraded and dancing in during the tour.

We were in town for the arrival of the yoles and a freakish event that saw me wake up impressively early and make it into Fort-de-France, entirely without planning it, to see the yoleurs arrive and assemble their boats. The large wooden batons which are fixed to the side of the  made entirely out of wood are what intrigue me the most.

There is something stirringly emotional about the departure and arrival of boats, a significant part of my childhood (significantly lots of the best memories) was spent by the water, my aunt and uncle were passionate sailors. An annual family outing to the London boat show each January to shake us out of our Christmas hibernation and festive food gluttony, summer holidays with topper dinghys and walks around marinas to admire the boats, my dad's favourites were always the simple Mallorquin fishing boats.

The day of arrival of the yoles there were hoards of people in town, food stalls, music, crab racing... It was a scorching day, painful to be walking round on the tarmac, thankful for the occasional coastal sea breeze. The arrival of the race was announced by the disturbance in the water, followed by a regatta of catamarans and other sailing boats, flag garlanded, in support of one of the racing teams (or team sponsors). There was a true sense of excitement as the boats fought their way to the finish buoy and landed on the tiny stretch of beach near Fort Louis. There were speeches and announcements afterwards but we were busy watching the crab racing. 

Many of the teams for the yoles are from the south and the east of the island, many from the communes Robet, Francois and Ste Anne. They are all sponsored by businesses here, it's hard to decide on who to support, not being martiniquan or a die hard fan of Lorraine beer or AFR assurance policies. I wanted to choose which team to support based on my favourite colour sail but it was one of the last to come in.