In Douarnenez, time flies… one day in Lorient, to visit Lilian and his dog, another one in Plogoff, to see again our friend Georges and his hens, another time walking to the Juch and look at the devil in the church.

Douarnenez it’s also the «Greyhound » sailing under the orders of Captain Philemon, or the (great) hawks on Fabrice house….

More they are the « Gras » festivities where the captain couldn’t refrain to demonstrate, obvioussly to tell his lack of understanding to see the « Abri du Marin », Jacques de Thézac master piece, go to the hands of richs and wheeler dealers of all sorts !

April 18th 2023, SKØIERN enter for 3 months of work in the shipyard « Pleine mer » , to Christof Eberhardt, located in the Port Rhu, at the same place of the shipyards of the past :

Big works on the hull : 5 swan frames, 4 steamed frames, a tens of planks, the rudder trunk refited, a new paint for the engine…

Kilos and kilos of paint, liters of oils, oak and acacia for the frames, larch for the planking, okum for calking, bitumen for the seams, and a lot of elbow grease !

And on july the 19, at 17h12 o’clock SKØIERN goes back to his élément, by air, as many others, realy in Douarnenez boats are flying !

The actors :

Christoff and Pierrick,

Ivan, Xavier,

Patrick, Anne Marie, Zoé and Iris

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At least, back to the sea ! A running off to the Aber Wrac’h, meet again our friends, the « Bel Espoir » where the Captain will have the honnor to embark, not for long, but enough to jump 50 years back…. the wonderfull « Swallow », our oak at the Moulin de l’Enfer, then the Trieux and Lézardrieux to hugg the friend Gilles, meet again Dominique, make a tour in Paimpol.

We will enjoy Ouessant, the Tas de Pois and Camaret where you see sailing boats from the old times, when the boats where of wood and beautiful under their multicolored sails.

Winter came, our second winter in Saint Pierre, and then we start thinking whether we were realy at the right place here.
Nevertheless we took time to enjoy the snow and the ice, wind permitting, in company of our furred and feathered friends, and at spring we sailed again, that time Eastward, to reenconter our families and friends, back to Britany to offer a better shelter for our boat, more in accordance with her past.
After the Great banks and the fog the Azores islands and our friends welcomed us for the summer : Horta, Praia da Vitoria, Santa Maria, still so beautiful and so dear to our heart.
The weather would be tricky for the last part of our journey but at least we will join Praia to Douarnenez with a direct course, this time the huricanes let us pass !
Douarnenez where we found ourselves quickly in our element, as if we had never let it. Here the maritime heritage is not virtual, it’s living and it’s with a great plesure that we reenter the Port Rhu, a place where the sea meets the river at the mercy of the tides, where the boats sleep under the trees.

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Anchored, usualy us sailors we talk of anchorage but now it seems that we are about to be realy anchored in the archipelago. Spring came shyly, slowly, but we had a real summer, even hot, more than 20°C, nearly 24°C ! Of course we have taken the oportunity to pace up and down Langlade, his “Belle rivière” and the peat bogs, Miquelon where we circled 5 times the Cape, admiring the balsam firs, the deers, collecting mushrooms and naturaly enjoying lobsters (thanks to André!). We even took a bath at sea !

Again meetings and visits : Gérard, Linda and this time Michèle and Marc, nearly the whole Dattolo’s family ! Laurent finaly arrived whith his “Julie” and oncle Pierre, Ning, little chinese girl alone on “Andreth”, her 23′ sailing boat, shamely pushed back by the authorities, all together, but we keep the contact with her, “Zhai Mo 1”, another chinese sailing boat coming from the NE passage, better welcomed, difficult to understand authorities decisions…then the “Vagabond”‘s family : Eric, Anne, Léonie and Aurore, here to take some warm after so many years spended in the ice. Then came the sailors feast, the neighbour-of pontoon – feast, always with music, the 14th of July…the historic reconstructions of the Zigotos, demonstrations, unusual in Saint Pierre, far from the ones in “la Canebière”! the photography competition Capi won and boats, boats : a trip to Fortune whith the friend Stephane to unload the king crab, the dry docks of “Elinor Marit”, of “Cap Marie”, and naturaly our’s, where our “Skoiern” will exit, once more, even more beautyfull.

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Anchored, yes, and we are standing well !

A Mare labor, Saint Pierre and Miquelon’s motto. Mare, she is everywhere. Labor, it depends of what you understand in Labor. For retired people it could be an insult, but howewer….It will be without taking in account Stephane’s personality, great fisherman under the look of God, and the sea he knows as it’s pocket since he was a child, who came when we arrived in the archipelago, in the company of the friend Laurent, to ask the Captain to work again, just to give some lessons to aprentice fishermen. In fact time flys in Saint Pierre, even in winter there is no risk of neurasteny. Small territory free from Covid madness, life is quietly flowing.
Quietly, if you don’t tell of the walks in the “moutain”, whatever the weather, with Iris and her dog friends, if you don’t tell of the Tai chi lessons and Taekwondo of Anne Marie, the Star Navigation lessons given by Capi, the learning of the arab language he took again and the book he is writing, the evening meetings by the friend Nathalie listening Irish music, when it’s not time to start singing seamen’s songs like a crew on a binge.

So, we din’t see winter going. As says the locals, it was a very mild winter, enough for us to appreciate the snow Iris love, but not enough to ice the Barachois where our “SKØIERN” lies, nor to use our norvegian sled. Global warming seems to be here, Miquelon and Langlade are ready to divorce, the strand which was united them is going into pieces with the winter storms, it’s only a question of time.

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Spring is coming, very slowly but the sun is already high in the sky, then we are refitting our boat, the sails are back, we prepare oursleves to ear again the song of the water flowing on the hull and the quietness of the anchorages. The “Zigotos” put their dories back to water, they promise to built one for us, birds knows that winter is away, they are getting smart. We will not go further than the archipelago, nothing more, the doors of Greenland and Canada are closed. We made ourselves vaccined to be able to travel, but with not much confidence, we have to be patients, like everybody, we wait arching our back and we know that we are privileged here on our rock.