Jeanne Baret

Picture this: a rural woman from the rolling hills of Burgundy, with an instinct for plants sharper than a sailor’s knife, manages to disguise herself as a man aboard a French naval vessel and — quite literally — sail around the world. That’s the real-life tale of Jeanne Baret. Forget corsets and salon chatter; this voyage was about botany, cross-dressing, shipboard gossip, and tropical vines named after the captain. It’s an 18th-century adventure full of grit, humor, and a surprising amount of plant collecting.

8/9/20253 min read

man in white long sleeve shirt and black hat sitting on red chair
man in white long sleeve shirt and black hat sitting on red chair

Jeanne Baret: The First Woman to Circumnavigate the Globe (in Disguise and with Style)

Jeanne Baret was born 27 July 1740 in La Comelle, Burgundy, to a humble family of farmers, Jean Baret and Jeanne Pochard (britannica.com). Raised among herbs, vegetables, and the occasional stubborn goat, she developed an extraordinary knowledge of plants without formal schooling — possibly taught to read and write by her mother or the village priest (storico.org). She was, as later described in Bougainville’s own journals, a “herb-woman” of uncommon skill.

By 1760, she was working for naturalist Philibert Commerson, a man whose love of botany was only rivalled by his chronic ailments and tendency to overpack. Their professional relationship quickly became personal, and in 1764 Baret gave birth to a son who was placed for adoption and sadly died shortly afterward (it.wikipedia.org).

The Great Disguise

In 1766, Commerson was invited to join Louis-Antoine de Bougainville’s circumnavigation as official botanist. The French Navy forbade women aboard — so Jeanne did the only logical thing: she bound her chest, donned loose sailor’s clothes, and reintroduced herself as “Jean Baret.”

Bougainville, apparently charmed by this eager young “valet,” even ceded his own cabin to Commerson and his assistant. This arrangement had less to do with luxury and more to do with logistics: a private toilet meant fewer risks of discovery (blog.biodiversitylibrary.org).

One crewman later wrote that Baret “never went about the ship without wearing a large hat pulled low and carrying a small bundle” — a bundle which, as Commerson joked, “might contain her dignity… or our lunch.”

Botanical Boot Camp

From Brazil to Tahiti, Jeanne was the expedition’s real workhorse. Together with Commerson, she collected over 6,000 plant specimens, including the bougainvillea, named by Commerson in honor of the captain (britannica.com). In Patagonia, the terrain was so rugged that Commerson called her his “beast of burden” — not unkindly, but in awe. One entry in his notes describes her “marching up the mountain, laden like a mule, yet more cheerful than the rest of us put together” (Ridley, The Discovery of Jeanne Baret, p. 103).

And it wasn’t all stoic endurance. In a surviving letter, Jeanne quips about the awkwardness of eating local Patagonian shellfish: “The taste is agreeable, the texture less so; one must chew while pretending to admire the scenery.” (Ridley, p. 117)

The Big Reveal — or Was It?

The popular tale claims that when the crew landed in Tahiti, locals immediately identified Baret as a woman. But historian Glynis Ridley points out that suspicions had been brewing for weeks. In one particularly tense episode off New Ireland, the ship’s surgeon Vivès recorded that Baret was forcibly searched by crewmen — an ordeal she endured with “a calmness that shamed the perpetrators” (Ridley, p. 156).

Her own notes suggest she was well aware of the gamble: “In botany one must risk the nettles to reach the bloom,” she wrote, a sentence that works as both a gardening tip and a life philosophy.

Life After the Voyage

Commerson died in Mauritius in 1773, leaving Jeanne to fend for herself. She ran a tavern — reportedly serving the best rum punch on the island — before marrying soldier Jean Dubernat in 1774. She returned to France the following year, completing her circumnavigation (en.wikipedia.org). King Louis XVI granted her a lifetime pension, calling her an “extraordinary woman” (es.wikipedia.org).

Only one plant species, Solanum baretiae, bears her name — though in 2012, Baretia lanata was also christened in her honor (fr.wikipedia.org). She even has a mountain range on Pluto named after her. Which, for someone who once disguised herself in ill-fitting breeches, is quite a cosmic promotion.

Jeanne Baret didn’t just break dress codes — she upended gender rules, transformed scientific exploration, and proved that sometimes the bravest thing you can do is put on someone else’s trousers, grab a plant press, and keep walking.