On October 8, 2025, Charlie Dalin, 41 years old, reveals that he completed and won, on January 14, the Vendée Globe in record time, while undergoing immunotherapy for a GIST, at the cost of a strict protocol at sea. Departing from Les Sables-d’Olonne, supported by MerConcept in Concarneau, he says he kept his illness secret to "enjoy the victory." On October 9, a book arrives in bookstores. The sporting horizon is reshaped: the Vendée Globe 2028 fades away.
Established Facts
Charlie Dalin, a 41-year-old French sailor with cancer, won the Vendée Globe 2024-2025 in 64 days 19 hours 22 minutes 49 seconds. The finish took place on January 14, 2025, in Les Sables-d’Olonne. It was the end of a solo, non-stop round-the-world race. Moreover, it is a new record for the event. The skipper of MACIF Santé Prévoyance, supported by the MerConcept team based in Concarneau, reveals today that he sailed under immunotherapy after being diagnosed with a GIST (gastrointestinal stromal tumor) in the fall of 2023.
This revelation comes on October 8, 2025, on the eve of the release of The Force of Destiny by Gallimard. In this book, the navigator recounts his year under tension and the secret shared with a small circle. Additionally, he describes the art of "pretending" to stay on course. The sailor says he chose silence upon arrival to "enjoy the victory" and not "spoil the mood." The reference media confirmed the sequence, along with the perspective of the person concerned. Furthermore, the team organized a strict logistics around the treatment.
A shadow remains over the exact chronology of surgical interventions. Some versions mention an operation in February 2024 followed by a recurrence of the disease in the spring. Others emphasize a major intervention after the race and a prolonged convalescence that explains Dalin’s absence from the awards ceremony on May 10, 2025. The editorial team notes this discrepancy and documents it without extrapolating.
The Secret Logbook: From Alert to the Open Sea
In autumn 2023, something is wrong. A dull weight, a fatigue unlike the training sessions or the broken nights of transatlantic races. The diagnosis falls: GIST, these rare tumors of the digestive tract, now better controlled thanks to targeted therapies and, for Dalin, an adapted immunotherapy protocol. It is then necessary to adapt: revise nutrition, monitor hydration, sanctify sleep, and integrate a daily intake at a fixed time. On the boat, an alarm regulates medicine as one adjusts a sail change.
January 2024, doctors give their green light, under conditions. It imposes a new discipline, less spectacular than gybes in the forties but just as decisive. On November 10, 2024, Dalin sets off. The plan is simple: maintain control of the machine and protect against the damp cold. Then, limit violent efforts that cause pain, anticipate the weather to avoid breakage zones. Finally, allow sequences of micro-naps. The race is then won by measure as much as by audacity.
The South Atlantic opens the way, the Indian imposes its steamroller, the Pacific stretches hours and thoughts. In the heart of the Indian Ocean, a weather window opens, which Dalin exploits with the precision of a cartographer. At the helm of his IMOCA designed by Guillaume Verdier, he sails ahead of a depression, while his pursuers choose to bypass it. The gap widens. The strategy becomes a narrative, then a psychological advantage. Hands sting, skin tightens, nausea lurks on some days. The alarm rings despite the swell. He swallows his pill, tidies up, checks, sets off again. It is no longer about hiding, only about holding on.
On rough sea days, regularity is essential to avoid being trapped by fatigue. This damages judgment, so it is necessary to keep the boat at the right angle and preserve the integrity of the foils. The team on land watches over. Messages are rare, laconic, never intrusive. Les Sables-d’Olonne draws near. On the morning of January 14, under a clear sky, he crosses the line, arms raised. His gaze is still in the night. 64 days and a breath, record broken. Microphones are extended, questions fly, the crowd shouts his name, speaks of joy, teamwork, effort. The secret remains warm.
Then come weeks of convalescence. A brief media tour, analyses, decisions. On May 10, the celebration of the world tour heroes takes place in Les Sables. Dalin is not there. The reason is medical. The organizers note it with sobriety. In Concarneau, the team reorganizes the 2025 season. Sam Goodchild takes the helm on some races, Loïs Berrehar accompanies him. The captain remains in the background at the chart table. He is in the attentive shadow of a project led to the record.
Behind the Scenes: Protocol, Rest, Cooking, Weather
At sea, the treatment tolerates no slack. An alarm sets the time. The prescription, validated for extreme conditions, relies on doses packaged and stored in a watertight module. Side effects are tracked in real-time in a brief journal. A few words on a laminated sheet allow for spotting the slightest drift.
The diet, meanwhile, follows a clear line: simple cooking, discreet seasonings, fractioned meals. Proteins for mass, slow carbohydrates for endurance, measured fibers. Drink often, in small sips. When the sea rears, swallow slowly to keep nausea at bay.
Sleep is rebuilt in micro-naps spread out, just deep enough to repair without disarming the watch. A sensor monitors the boat. An internal hourglass regulates the rest cut. Nothing continuous, everything repairable.
Decision-making arises from the weather, is verified by the knowledge of the boat, refined by intuition. An offensive race, never reckless: prefer trajectories with sustainable windows rather than a single brilliant move. Self-management becomes risk management.
On land, the team supports without imposing. A discreet protocol governs supplies, ensures redundancies, anticipates breakdowns, and sets alert thresholds. The medical and performance cells share only the essentials. The goal remains unchanged: to allow the skipper to decide safely, in sovereignty.
The Meaning of a Secret
Dalin’s silence, on the morning of the victory, did not seek to create a myth. It aimed to preserve a moment, to avoid the shock effect that would have overwhelmed the press conference and exhausted the joy. Revealing a few months later, at the pace of a book, does not negate the authenticity of the triumph. The deferred speech allows for explanation and, perhaps, perspective.
In the collective memory of the Vendée Globe, the feat lies in mastery and duration. Here, an interaction with illness is added, redefining the criteria of admirable. The modesty will also be praised, this rare virtue in the era of immediate confessions.
GIST, Sport, and Caution: What Doctors Say
GISTs are tumors of the digestive tract. They originate from Cajal cells and are often sensitive to targeted treatments. Immunotherapy and certain tyrosine-kinase therapies have shifted the prognosis, in France and elsewhere, according to current protocols. Specialists in sports oncology remind us of simple guidelines: resuming an activity is done on a case-by-case basis. It must be done under close medical supervision, respecting each person’s tolerance. Additionally, one must watch for warning signs. These include persistent pain, abnormal fatigue, and rapid weight loss.
This account is not medical advice. Anyone facing an illness should consult their doctor and specialized networks. However, it can illuminate a public debate: high-level sport is not incompatible with certain pathologies. This is possible with rigorous supervision and continuous dialogue between patient and caregivers. Dalin’s trajectory offers a unique example, which should not become a norm.
2028, Blurred Horizon
At the moment of the confession, the sailor rules out the prospect of a Vendée Globe 2028. He summarizes it as: "in view of the current state of science and research". Renouncing is not admitting defeat, but adapting to the prudence required. Shorter races remain open, depending on his condition and the schedule. The crew is already preparing for it, without emphasis, with the method of well-managed projects: analyze, decide, announce. Health decides the rest.
In the offshore racing ecosystem, where resilience is often brandished as a banner, Dalin’s announcement introduces a salutary realism. The Macif partners and the MerConcept structure reaffirm a support that goes beyond mere performance. Ambition is redefined, not lowered, but at the right level. Indeed, this is what a sailor can demand of his body.
What This Story Reveals About French Sport
We love sport when it tells something other than itself. Here, the experienced meets science, the ethics of secrecy meets the necessity to speak. France has long admired these sober heroes who make victory a labor rather than a destiny. This book arriving, these measured interviews, this record that stands, all tell the same thing: the freedom of an athlete to choose his moment and the framework of his speech.
There will always be some blurred areas around dates, dosages, thresholds. They do not erase what we know for certain: a sailor led a boat to the record of the event while leading an inner battle of rare intensity. It is up to each person to measure, without emphasis or forced compassion, what this changes in our way of looking at sport.
After the Line, the Story Continues
The finish line does not close stories. It opens others. Charlie Dalin moves forward today with a book, a truth, and a future to reinvent. The Vendée Globe remains a test of endurance and precision. What he added, in silence, does not detract from the sporting gesture, it deepens it. We will remember the clear morning of January 14. Moreover, the crowd was present at the channel, hand raised. Behind the smile, there was the invisible part of a story now uncovered.