“There are three kinds of people: the living, the dead, and those who go to sea.”
 — Aristotle

Born at sea, Virginia was just five when her father, the famous Norwegian adventurer Peter Tangvald, died tragically in a shipwreck. When her elder brother, Thomas, also disappeared mysteriously at sea in 2014, Virginia decided to investigate her origins, which became the documentary Ghosts of the Sea. She explores the archives and memories of those who encountered this atypical family. What she discovers is staggering: two of Peter’s wives died under suspicious and potentially criminal circumstances. More questions arise. In seeking to understand where she comes from and uncover her family’s dark secrets, Virginia has made a compellingly beautiful film that challenges what she believed to be true and calls into question the idyllic image of the sailor in search of absolute freedom. At the end of her courageous journey is the hope that a toxic cycle has been broken.

“There are three kinds of people: the living, the dead, and those who go to sea.”
 — Aristotle

Virginia Tangvald was just five years old when her father, a famous Norwegian adventurer, died tragically in a shipwreck. Though born at sea on a sailboat that Peter Tangvald built himself, Virginia had little experience of the open ocean, where life is governed by a different set of rules. Disillusioned by this so-called liberty, her mother brought Virginia back to dry land, ultimately dropping anchor in Montréal. When her elder brother, Thomas, disappeared mysteriously in 2014, also swallowed up by the ocean, Virginia decided to investigate her origins, which became the documentary Ghosts of the Sea.

Virginia’s fascinating quest takes her to Canada, Bonaire, Puerto Rico, France, Andorra, Belgium, and French Guyana. She speaks to people who knew Peter Tangvald and whose insights shed new light on the father she only knew from newspapers and autobiographical accounts. She visits the reefs where he perished, along with his daughter, Virginia’s sister Carmen, in a shipwreck survived only by Thomas. She explores both public and private archives of those who encountered this atypical family. The details of what she discovers are staggering: two of Peter’s wives – the mothers of Thomas and of Carmen – died under suspicious and potentially criminal circumstances. More questions arise. Why did Thomas, marked by his tragic childhood, want to set sail like his father? Is Virginia also governed by a force she can’t control? Does she unknowingly bear the weight of a sinister legacy?

In seeking to understand where she comes from and uncover her family’s dark secrets, Virginia has made a compellingly beautiful film, one that challenges what she had believed to be true and calls into question the idyllic image of the sailor seeking absolute freedom. At the end of her courageous journey, both deeply personal and universal, she finds evidence of what she missed growing up without her father. And the hope that a toxic cycle has been broken.

One-Liner

Virginia Tangvald’s search for clues about the death of her brother, who was lost at sea, turns into a compelling quest to unravel the dark secrets surrounding her family and her father, famous sailor Peter Tangvald.

Two-Liner

While searching for clues about the death of her brother, who was lost at sea, Virginia Tangvald embarks on a fascinating investigation into her family’s dark secrets. Calling into question the idyllic life of her father, legendary sailor Peter Tangvald, her quest dismantles the myth of absolute freedom and offers the hope that a toxic cycle has been broken.

What sparked your desire to examine your family’s history?

The spark was my brother’s disappearance at sea. It seemed like there was a curse hanging over my family, and I felt like it would remain as long as I didn’t get to the heart of the mystery. As the American poet Robert Frost wrote, ‘The best way out is always through.’ I had this sense that by taking ownership of the story, I could thwart the family fate.

The search for identity has its risks, not least of which is the risk of being disappointed. How did you view your father before starting your research, and how did that change during the process?

The mystery surrounding my family history, and therefore the source of my identity, had become so unbearable that I had no choice but to face it. The risk of being disappointed never even crossed my mind. On the other hand, not going forward ran the risk of continuing along this deadly path. It wasn’t so much my view of my father that changed, but my view of freedom. From my father, I inherited a yearning for freedom, for passion, and a sense I was destined for adventure. As a teenager, I was an insomniac because I wanted to live on a sailboat like my father and tap into the freedom that I believed he experienced. My father was a role model. But at the same time, I understood that this freedom led towards death. Being stuck between those irreconcilable messages created a lot of tension in me. In my mind, I was trying to solve the equation between living life to its fullest and death. What changed the most in how I viewed my father after this process was that I realized he and I didn’t have the same definition of freedom, and that he was never free in the way I understood it, so he wasn’t a role model after all. He could sail from port to port, but the map of the world had closed in around him. That brought me a lot of peace, and it made me want to reach out and emerge from my solitude.

Ghosts of the Sea opens and closes with footage of you and your son. What is your sense of your legacy and how you will pass it on?

When I started making the film, I didn’t want children because I subscribed to a vision of freedom that meant I couldn’t have attachments. But after the film, my vision of freedom changed to the point where I had this desire for life that allowed me to have a child. I feel like I’ve taken ownership of the story and neutralized its destructive power. I hope I can convey to my child this idea that he’s destined to have an exciting and meaningful life, but without saddling him with absolutes. I will admit that I don’t buy him toy boats, and I avoid having images of boats in the house.

The film is built around your quest, which we follow in real time, and you often appear on screen. What were the challenges of both being in the film and directing it?

It was really hard because when you’re in front of the camera, obviously you can’t see what’s being filmed. You review each scene with the crew and the cinematographer beforehand, but once you start rolling, it’s a leap of faith. I was fortunate to work with two incredibly talented and sensitive cinematographers who understood my vision. In this case, the film required me to be on camera, but I have no idea what motivates some directors to act in their own films. I’d never do it again.

Your film deals with the notion of freedom and its association with a life at sea. How would you define ‘freedom’ today as it applies to your own life?

Freedom is a feeling. A bird that comes to the window from time to time. You can’t expect to live in a postcard or a video, constantly immersed in that feeling. You can’t catch the bird and put it in a cage and own it. As soon as you find the Holy Grail you think will make you free, your definition of freedom will change, or it will slip from your grasp one way or another. It’s a mysterious, constantly changing beast. And it can turn into a monster that demands constant sacrifice, that requires constant feeding, and that ends up consuming you. Freedom can’t be the ultimate goal. I think it’s best to focus on being a whole person.

Thomas Tangvald

Thomas Tangvald was born in 1976 aboard the L’Artémis de Pytheas, a boat built by his father, Peter. On this same vessel, he witnessed several tragic events that led to the deaths of four family members. Despite this, he was drawn to the sea and adopted his father’s nomadic lifestyle—which some might call freedom—before his own sailboat disappeared off the coast of French Guiana in 2014. His body was never found.

Peter Tangvald

Born in Norway, Peter Tangvald developed a passion for sailing at the age of 16. After working in California for several years, he began a solo Atlantic crossing in 1954 and never left the sea. A famous adventurer and successful author, he was both charismatic and unpredictable, spending his life criss-crossing the oceans on L’Artémis de Pytheas, a sailboat without an engine or radio that he built himself in French Guiana. He married many times and lost two wives at sea before he himself was killed, along with his eight-year-old daughter Carmen, when his ship sank off Bonaire in the Antilles in 1991.

Nathalie Bourdon (NFB)
Director – Distribution & Market Development
C. : 514-995-0095
n.bourdon@nfb.ca

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