Call of the Open Sea: A Memoir

The Incredible true story of Michel Adrien, who build a commercial fishing empire in West Africa amidst decolonization and the Cold War.

I recently had the privilege of translating my grandfather’s memoir into English. It’s been an enriching experience to learn about his story with such depth. The following is the introduction I wrote for the English version of the book.

Translator’s Introduction

In 2014, my father called me to announce that Groupe Adrien had filed for bankruptcy. It marked the end of thirty years of familial strife over a commercial empire plagued by mismanagement, corruption, and diminishing global oceanic resources. Ten years prior, my grandfather had made the list of the five hundred richest men in France. That day, it was all gone. To me, it was a relief. Our family had done nothing but fight over the dwindling family fortune, and it had torn us apart. Out of respect for my family members, I will not disclose all that happened, only that the children of a man whose life path had been nothing short of remarkable had torn his legacy to pieces.

The story you are about to read is one of those exceptional journeys that one seldom finds in the real world. If it were a work of fiction, it would be thrown out for being too improbable. It is the story of my grandfather, a man who defied the odds and rose from the depths of abject poverty in a far-off and oft-forgotten corner of France, where paved roads and electricity were mere fantasies, to become a global captain of industry. Under the harsh grip of German occupation, his family’s situation turned even more precarious as their life of subsistence fell under the yoke of wartime rationing. This adversity, while stunting my grandfather’s physical growth, paradoxically nurtured his mind and spirit, or what he called his “secret garden,” paving the way for him to become one of the wealthiest men in France. His is a story of a man driven by his traumatic past, hurtling toward a greater destiny, and unexpectedly reaching the highest heights in our civilization.

I did not have the privilege of spending all that much time with my grandfather growing up. Compared with my cousins, my time with him was fleeting. My parents had moved us to the United States, in large part to escape the drama of the family business, and consequently, I have always felt a certain distance from them. I was the outsider, French but not French, part of the core family, but also not. I believe the distance has given me a somewhat outsider perspective on the family saga. And yet, I cannot help but feel enmeshed.

In spite of all that happened leading up to the closure of the family business and the critical mistakes that were made, I look up to my grandfather with awe. Divorced from any motive other than a little bit of pride for his bravery, achievements, and, as you will read herein, humanity, I believe the story of his early life is objectively remarkable. On my last visit, he asked me if I thought his story would resonate in America. He is an old man now, past ninety and aging fast. When he asked me, he showed a certain vulnerability I have seldom seen in him. It was as if he had lost his belief in his own exceptionalism. Time has caught up with him, and I saw in him a deep and sincere humility. Of course his story would do well in America, I told him. It’s the country of the American dream, entrepreneurship, and self-reliance, and we valorize stories of daring and commercial success.

As the only writer among the grandchildren, and one of only two native English speakers, I accepted the project, and in so doing embarked on my own journey of discovery of a man who, until recently, remained shrouded by the aura of his success. What I have found has been enriching. Many of the same drives and desires that propelled him forward live in me, too (including a propensity toward hypochondria), and in seeing myself in him, I have developed a greater appreciation for him and his life—and mine. Most of all, I am just so darn impressed with the courage he and my grandmother had to pack up their lives and move to Africa with their children in a time with limited communication and travel technology. I have lived so much of my life in fear of making bold moves or taking risks. His story gives me courage.

My grandfather wrote this first autobiographical work in response to my cousin Laurent, who told him, “The greatest gift you can give us before you pass is written testimony of your exceptional life path.” He had never considered writing a memoir prior to that moment. I am happy that he did. To the general public, the following collection of stories will appear remarkable, but what I also urge you to look for are the brief introspective moments that, without the miracle of the written word, I would never have seen in him. This first tome chronicles his early life up to the age of forty. I call it the “exciting book” because his early life is, to me, far more interesting than the corporate world he entered after 1975. There is a second tome that chronicles his later life, which, as of the writing of this introduction, remains untranslated.

As you will learn from the following autobiography, my grandfather did not attend school past the age of thirteen. Despite his lack of formal education, he is gifted with the written word, but he has little experience with storytelling, so he wrote his testimony as a series of anecdotes rather than a cohesive narrative. In my translation, I have attempted to preserve his voice to the greatest extent possible, and you may find that his manner of speaking comes off as French. It is intentional. I feel it is important for you to hear his voice and manner of formulating sentences to get a sense of the man. He has a rather unique way of expressing himself. If you find certain passages awkward or oddly worded, understand that they are not a fault of interpretation but rather a faithful translation of what he actually wrote in French.

I also feel his story is topical. We have in his testimony an eyewitness account from someone who lived at the forefront of the twentieth century’s pilfering of the earth’s natural resources, all the while navigating—literally and figuratively—the tensions that followed decolonization and the Cold War in West Africa. His achievements speak for themselves: he was a champion tuna fisherman, the first European to employ a mixed African-European crew, and he fed much of West Africa with his enterprises at a time when their food supply was at risk. He helped to build Senegal’s economy and, in the end, gifted them his Senegalese armament so that they might continue to thrive beyond him. In a world where racial issues take up a significant portion of our political discourse, my grandfather’s testimony is a fascinating perspective worthy of reflection.

We must also consider the who and the when of this story. My grandfather is, after all, a white man born in the first half of the twentieth century, and much of his testimony will prove controversial in today’s political environment. He also has his views on specific historical events, which he recites with absolute confidence but also which an informed eye will note as either incomplete or partly incorrect. I urge readers to avoid judging his views and memories by today’s standards. As I have often taught (I am a history teacher by training), it is unfair to judge historical groups of people by our modern lens. I urge you to see the positives in his life journey, throughout which he genuinely sought to relate to people of all colors and creeds on equal footing at a time when, for example, we in the United States had yet to begin the Civil Rights movement in earnest. He was an exception for his time.

The following is a story you will find nowhere else in the world, worthy of a Hollywood biopic, and my hope is that by translating it into English, it will garner the recognition it deserves.

Michel Adrien’s memoir won the Prix des Ecrivains de Vendee award in 2018, and the Prix Commandant Jean Loreau award in 2019.