“In a world of seven billion people, where every inch of land has been mapped, much of it developed, and too much of it destroyed, the sea remains the final unseen, untouched, and undiscovered wilderness, the planet’s last great frontier,” wrote James Nestor.

For freediver Arnaud Jerald — a multiple world-record holder forged by the raw yet sublime calanques of Marseille into one of the most remarkable underwater pioneers of our time — venturing into that frontier time and again means discovering, meter by meter, his own quintessence.

Thanks to K-Way, we had the opportunity to explore the profound bond between one man and the world of freediving — a man who recently descended to an astonishing depth of 126 meters beneath the surface. His story is told through both a lyrical short film, crafted in collaboration with the refined visual narrative of Achille Mauri, and through Jerald’s own words — a deep dive to the very bottom of a cinematic passion that has become an ongoing act of transcending both personal and human boundaries alike.

SURFACE. Origins and Essence.

“My relationship with the Blue began quite early — around the age of seven — in a place full of character: Marseille. The rocks, the white cliffs, the sheer drop of the seabed… At first, that Blue felt a little frightening. I always had this strange feeling that sharks would appear out of nowhere. And yet, at the same time, it sparked my imagination. I would dive beneath the surface and begin to invent, to live in a universe all my own — imagining the world of Nemo or Jaws, of course… Slowly, little by little, I learned to tame that realm.

When I was sixteen, I really had no idea where I was heading. I was pretty shy, with no sense of what kind of job I wanted to do. For about ten years, I’d been going spearfishing with my father on the Marseille calanques every weekend. He was the one who noticed I kept diving deeper and deeper… He encouraged me to take a proper course, partly for safety.

It was a cold February in Marseille. The sea was rough, the water icy, and everyone on board was seasick… But I felt like I was in a dream. Truly. It was like I was stepping into the world of The Big Blue — the film that had shaped my parents’ generation. I dove to 30 meters. Opened my eyes. And looked out upon a place where there wasn’t really much to see. Just blue. Everywhere. A mirror-effect, where, for the first time, I saw myself through my own eyes — and not through others. I felt good. And as soon as I came up, I told myself: this is it.

The world above the surface felt repetitive. But the deeper I dove, the more I saw the Blue change, shift — become dynamic. Bright near the surface, then darker, and darker still: a progression that started as something welcoming, and then turned awe-inspiring. I learned to accept it, turning that shift into a kind of game. Then, as I ascended back toward the surface, the Blue transformed again — inviting me back, calling me to breathe once more.

It might sound strange, but through freediving I truly learned how to breathe. Before that, I was stuck in my own bubble, always stifled. I’ve always been hypersensitive to noise, to sound, to the people around me… But the sea — the ocean — taught me how to accept, how to be more tolerant of my surroundings. Freediving broke that bubble. It had a huge impact on me.”

DIVE. Understanding and Evolution.

“The feeling of flying underwater is a revelation. I experience freediving as if I were constantly Peter Pan or The Little Prince. I’m discovering new planets. Underwater, I enter an element I don’t fully control. I feel small — and that’s fascinating. Every journey shrinks my ego.

In the first few meters, I focus on technique: speed, fin work, body position, the right level of relaxation. But once I enter free fall, the brain kicks in — and doubts emerge. Those doubts need to be managed. The rope in front of me is my lifeline — my Ariadne’s thread. If I lose it, I’m lost in the Blue.

The key is finding the right balance between positive and negative thoughts. The negative ones are tied to that urge to breathe, the pull towards the surface, the question of whether I’m really ready for this depth. The positive ones are the internal soundtrack that keeps me steady. In recent years, that’s usually ‘Everything in Its Right Place’ by Radiohead.

When I think about my relationship with the sea and the ocean, I see a marriage — a commitment so deep that titles, records, and public interest become secondary. It’s a matter of life or death. To reach certain depths you have to compromise with things that are difficult to grasp in human terms. You’re going against your very nature.

I’ve been learning how to know myself, how to control my emotions… so I can manage them better on the surface too. To be honest, my biggest fear is not using the full potential I’ve been given. I believe I was born to do this. It’s like I have a superpower — and it’s up to me to hone that the best way I can.”

RECORDS. Pioneering and Discovery.

“Every record matters, of course. It means doing something no one has ever done before — like stepping onto a new planet, being an astronaut. No one has ever been there.

Between 40 and 100 meters, it’s an internal struggle. I have to convince myself that what I’m doing is normal. Even though it’s not.

After 100 meters, there’s a kind of surrender. The sport becomes something spiritual — intangible.

It’s hard to explain what I experience down there — or why I do it. It’s almost impossible to explain it to others, and sometimes even to myself.

Again, I feel like I’m in a dream, in a place where no one can look for me or find me. I explore a world we don’t know, while my lungs are the size of an orange.

Depth intoxication. Narcosis. Hallucinations. Three minutes feel like three days. It’s like that movie ‘Interstellar’ — distant, with everything operating on different rules.

It’s something intimate. Deeply personal. It’s about allowing the human race — the human being as athlete and explorer — to evolve.

Freediving isn’t something you see on TV every day, yet whenever people hear about it, they’re drawn in by the profound mystery of the sport.

We freedivers are still pioneers. We’re discovering things that those who came before us never had the chance — or didn’t dare — to uncover.”

ASCENT. Ecstasy and Epiphany.

“I’m a little addicted to depth. It’s not really about the numbers I see on my watch, or even the records I’ve broken. It’s about finding — again and again — that part of myself revealed in that brief instant I tough the bottom… when I feel the purest version of myself. Nothing else. The quintessence of me.”