Amicale des Olonnois & Voile Traditionnelle

The saga of the Olonnois

Good morning. I introduce myself. I am an Olonnois, you know one of those small wooden boats that for a few years have been cheering the harbor in the summer with their multiple colors all more shimmering than each other. You have surely noticed me one day or another during a walk on the embankment or on the harbor piers, inevitably my friends and I are not like these modern sailboats that are monochrome. They want to be white, but in reality they are gray. It's a little sad the gray, don't you think, right?

I'm sure one day you saw our flotilla in the channel go out to sea, you counted them out of curiosity, these boats were a good fifteen. You observed them from the top of the docke, comparing them to each other, you haven't seen two of them; have you? Despite you, you were charmed, all these small boats in different colors, whether their hulls or their wings delighted you.

I would bet you interrupted your walk to give us a few seconds of attention, it was difficult for you to do otherwise, especially since the other walkers did like you and added flattering comments that you listened to with a not very discreet ear! Isn't it a little true what I'm telling you?And then suddenly you remembered vaguely hearing people talk about it and also read something in the press that talked about old Sablais wooden boats that men had repaired and put back on the water. Your interest increased, you took a closer look at these little sailboats and you told yourself that the men who were on board were very lucky! They had to realize their dreams, a rare privilege in our time! There are few who can do it.

You resumed your walk, but you turned around two or three times to look again at these multicolored boats, because they catch the eye. Of course they are not highly technical wonders, full of electronics, laser or other novelties! No, not at all, yet they are the symbol of a profession that has now disappeared, the knowledge of men who, although they have not done great mathematical studies, knew perfectly the resistance of the materials they used with art, obtaining results that still force admiration today.

These men had a love of work well done, perfect finish, precise detail despite the fact that some surely could not read a plan. They didn't have any, their knowledge was empirical, that's perhaps what makes it worth. So in order for the following generations to know what their ancestors were capable of doing, it was necessary to save what could be saved so that the profession, the address, the knowledge of these men who were the marine carpenters would not be lost forever! This is one of the major reasons that has pushed these men today to restore these old Olonnois for their personal pleasure and so that the memory of our ancestors lasts.

You probably said to yourself, it would be interesting to see these small boats more closely, I will have to know, that I ask where they moor, in order to go see them, look at them from all angles, I'm sure it would interest me. What would be nice would be that there would be two or three of these men with whom I could start a conversation, talk to them about their boats, if however they accept me with them, on their pontoon, nothing is less certain. They are perhaps a little special men, a kind of fairly closed clan that only frequents those who share their ideas, their passion. I'll have to find out.

Come, come dear Sir we will tell you everything, and with real pleasure believe me. Well, we are not big boats, we are only five meters long, our nautical performances are modest. What does it matter, it's not the main thing, I would even say it's secondary for us! Our goal is to make those who love us sail in a different way, as in our youth, when all the boats were made of wood. We must tell you that our owners do not have a boat, but an Olonnois!

I explain myself. We are built of wood, yes Sir, in tree wood as we say at home, in wood bordered on acacia rims. I don't dare to tell you in boards, I would seem to take you for an ignorant, you are all excused for not knowing.

This type of construction gives us our letters of nobility, despite our small size which does not intervene in this title. We are part of the sailing aristocracy and only because of the materials used for our construction.

Do you know that some of us still have our original cotton veils! Surprising isn't it? If you knew the lusts of which we are the object! Even from yacht owners whose price makes us seasise! When they meet us, they often make a small sign of friendship or compliment while photographing us, I will dare to say that they envid us somewhere!

There's plenty, admit it. Most of us have the sails of different colors as well as the hull. It's nice, isn't it? This variety of colors, there is no uniformity, no similarity compared to modern plastic boats! If I told you that when we are on the water, scattered on the harbor, we identify ourselves with these colors. None of us is painted like his neighbor.

Unfortunately we are the last of this race, we will not have descendants! There are no more wooden boats, there are no more marine carpenters; the profession is gone! What a shame! Because the Navy, Sir, the real one was made of wood; and quality wood!

By the way, how old do you give me? Have you ever wondered where we came from? From which construction site? How is it that for a few years we have reappeared? Where were we before? We were not seen in the port.

I will tell you. Our age in 1999, the average is between thirty and forty years*. Where were we built and by whom? But right here! We are pure Sablais, tinged with a cousinage with the Chaumois, which honors us. It must be said that the workshop where we were born was at the Cabaude, therefore at the Chaume, this explains this, our creator Mr. DUBERNET was also an authentic Sablais. We were not drawn in the design office of a great naval architect, not at all but by the hand of Mr. DUBERNET who drew our first lines on a piece of board picked up on the ground in his workshop at the insistent request of a client who wanted with all his might that Mr. DUBERNET build him a small boat.

You don't believe me? Yet I swear to you that it is the pure truth, we hold it from the mouth of the person concerned, he was very happy to tell it to anyone who wanted to hear it.

Then he tweaked us, refined us, balanced us, in short he made us what we are; as you see us. This man was a genius, because you probably don't know it, but we are a family that had more than one hundred and fifty members! It amazes you, doesn't it? Do you know many monotype series with as many units? Don't look, there are none, we are the only ones in the world!

Hey! Yes, it's surprising but that's how it is. Note that while we are very proud of this situation, we do not get any glory, no superiority. We were in vogue in the sixties, then plastic arrived! It was leprosy! Desolation, we have known decay, exile!

Our owners who maintained us with great care and attention, were suddenly seized with acute fleminitis crises and abandoned us, neglected us, not hiding their preference for these plastic boxes! Of course, there was no maintenance, painting, caulking or other work to keep us in good condition. These boats were supposedly, to what was said functional, rational, what else do I know! The final result is that little by little we were pushed into the back ports, mudflats, little-frequented, even ignored, that we avoid so much the show is sad, where our agony began inevitably.

Sometimes an old sailor fisherman, the wet eye comes to see us, contemplate this disaster that tears his heart out, unable to prevent an old song, very beautiful, from coming back to his memory. At the bottom of your old port, she says, the carcasses of the already dead boats are piling up**.

How true it is! What a suffering it was for us to see ourselves so abandoned we who had made the beautiful days of so many men, happy and proud to possess us! In addition to this abandonment was added the infamy of dying in the mud! This nauseating vase that invaded us, rotted us, destroyed us! It is not a glorious end for a boat to perish in the mud, engulfed in it, gnawed by verms; it's horrible!

Tell me about a smashing shipwreck on rocks following a bad blow! Here is an ending that has panache! See Commander Charcot's "Why not", both disappeared together and not in the mud! Do you think I'm exaggerating? Me not!

We have a sense of honor we the wooden boats that come to us from our ancestors, be it Corsairs, Flibustiers, South Sea skimmers or if you prefer the great discoverers of unknown continents, Magellan, La Pérouse, Bougainville, etc. They were men of honor who did not disappear in a mess with their ships! Oh no!

Some of us, as a result of this disaffection, served as a rabbit roof! You imagined heresy! Rabbit roofs! Others were garden sheds, or chicken coops! We boats! We were touching the bottom of the abyss! Some were lucky enough to be burned, lucky! That's when, what a miracle! There were here and there men of taste, in love with beautiful things, beautiful objects, I was going to say objects of art, let's not exaggerate anyway, although, on reflection...

Men who knew that the most noble material is wood. That any wooden construction, furniture, sailboat, chalet carries within it a personal value that cannot be taken away from it. This value is the know-how of men, their love of their profession, it is also the different species of wood used wisely.

Do you know that our centerpieces: keel, varangues, bow are made of oak, our membrures are made of acacia, our edges in mahogany, our masts, various spars, spruce, as for the metal parts they are made of bronze! That's not a value! A quality label! So try to find your equal at the moment, such a rich work, it will be difficult believe me!

These men have decided not to let us disappear. They want future generations to see the talent that their ancestors had, their taste for work well done, the love of their profession, their knowledge of naval architecture long before the arrival of computers.

These men have met, grouped, formed an Association, an Amicale to help each other in order to save us, and they are fully successful. They share their good will, their different knowledge and above all their love, their passion for us, old wooden boats, despised by almost all and abandoned! We who thought that our days were numbered, that we would never return to the sea again, you understand our happiness, our enthusiasm, it is a real resurrection, unexpected!

We will still know the grayness of the spray on our front, when our bow opens a wave in two, or when it taking us by the side will burst on our side watering the crew, while embarking water! We will again know the suffering of a close edge by beautiful breeze, when our riggered to break will moan under the pressure of the wind in the wing! Yes, but then what happiness when after an on-board transfer we will leave backwind! To go even faster, our crews add sails that they put at these paces, some even have tagons! That's telling you! Our father had not planned these additional sails that beautify us, proof that we love each other.

Our owners compete with each other to beautify us, give us a cachet, a plus on the neighbor! If I told you that some were forced to redo the bridge for us, this one was rotten, they did it with teak slats! Admit that it gives a certain class, a plus.

Currently about thirty Olonnois* are able to sail, it's a few out of one hundred and fifty, but there will be others, that's for sure! The notoriety of the Amicale is gradually expanding, some press articles have contributed to it, but above all the presence of Olonnois at major events of old rigging, such as the Bois de la Chaize regattas in August in Noirmoutier, or in Brest at the great international festival that takes place every four years, not to mention the events they do here in the harbor in the summer in the middle of the middle of the season in front of bewildered and charming summer visitors who photograph us at arm's length!

The important thing is that there are survivors, the men will always be present to continue the task started, that's for sure. This may seem surprising because some of us were in a state of wreckage that could have been believed to be irrecoverable! It was to underestimate the ardor of our rescuers, nothing puts them off, discourages them! They have only one goal, to put us back in a position to navigate and for that they do not spare their trouble because sometimes the evil is deeper than it seems, no more than they skimp on expenses, on the costs we cause them, although they do not have unlimited financial means for most!

Without going so far as to go crazy, these men never hesitate to buy quality equipment to equip us. None is the exact replica of another, everyone wants to stand out to have their own personality that is manifested by the different colors of our veils, the hull, that's what makes it charming, don't you think?

One day we were several on the dry hold for a general toilet that we do twice a year, well do you know what a lady, very charming by the way, said to my boss who praised my charms with a flood of words, because he is a little talkative: "If I understand you correctly Sir did she tell him, your boat is your dancer? ". You realize the compliment! I stayed all baba, my boss too yet I assure you that he has bagout, but there he was KO, KO but happy!

Note that it is true, because they court us these men, coax us, give us gifts to tend us, to highlight us, to be proud of us!

I will confide in you, but please don't repeat it. I'm sure most of them prefer to buy us a new veil than a dress for their wife! But please don't say anything, because they are a little jealous and it would make a fuss!

I told you earlier that we participated in nautical events, but the most beautiful, the one that honored us the most, the one where we certainly rubbed shoulders with the sublime was in Noirmoutier in the company of the Pen-Duick that Tabarly, himself, barred in person. It was a great honor for us to start a regatta with him, needless to say that he was going faster than us, leaving us squarely on the spot! But the apotheosis if I believe what we told our bosses was the last board they made on the ground, a common meal in which all the crews, their wives and friends participated. By what a happy circumstance the table of our skippers will be next to that of Tabarly and his friends, mystery! What is certain is that at this table there were beautiful people believe me, not only Eric Tabarly and Madame but also the gratin of sailing, famous photographers, and others!

The atmosphere was very hot apparently, to the point that Madame Tabarly climbed into a chair to sing in front of two or three hundred admiring and charming people. Tabarly sang in turn followed by our bosses who did not want to be left behind. They made him sing the Sablais hymn "Let's go the sea is beautiful***" which he sang at the top of his lungs! It is to tell you if he is bon vivant, we will tell you that in detail one of these days.

At the very big race that is the Vendée Globe we had the honor of embarking prestigious candidates for a fierce regatta, I will not mention names so as not to be envious, but we had the honor of embarking the best! So you understand me, don't we if we sometimes have a certain pride, because finally being barred by men who go around the world alone, that also gives letters of nobility.

Let me tell you, however, that we have nothing to prove, nothing to prove. Our happiness is to live, to relive! When we have lived the total abandonment with a miserable, shameful end as a horizon, and that by an incredible, unexpected chance we return to life, we appreciate this resurrection at its fair value.

It is possible that some neophytes, seeing us pass through the channel, say that we have little in common with the great runners of the seas, who ride the waves with panache, jumping easily from one to the other and that it is not tomorrow that we will win an Olympic speed champion medal on the water!

That's for sure, but if you knew how indifferent it is to us, we are philosophers and put into practice this famous motto which says that the faster we go, the shorter the time is, and we are not in a hurry to go elsewhere to see what is happening there. Our ambitions are modest but have a single goal, to please ourselves with the means we have without envying things impossible to achieve.

If you knew how happy we are to frolic on the waves, to regat between us, pushed by our veils full of Noroît, the dominant breeze here in good weather, which gives us a superb bow mustache! In the edges of the carrier then there we go wild, we vibrate from the head of the mast to the bottom of the keel by the speed! If you were with a course buoy to turn, while several competitors present themselves, you would see if we are polite! It's not "After you, please" but vehement cries of protest! Cries of experienced sailors, such as "Water, water! ", "Tribord amure! Priority!", "Excumb!". There are no more friends, but rivals who all want to rank well, being the best of a day, it's quite normal.

Of course the regatta ended, in the last edge at the headquarters of the Amicale a glass in hand everyone explains his case, why he is not in the first because one cut him off or refused an edge, which of course is not always obvious, but you have to justify your failures. Finally everything ends very well and everyone goes home with a happy heart.

And that is our goal, to give us happiness to each other with our modest little boats. Maybe we are selfish, sectarian too, because we superbly ignore everything that is on the water and that is not built of wood, which is not an old rigging, but what do you want it is our family the Olonnois, a small family here in the port of Les Sables that brings together about a thousand boats it seems, but only about twenty wooden boats! You see we are in the minority, what does it matter! We have our letters of nobility, if only the materials used in our construction! We are part of this Navy that we still call today the Wooden Navy and to which we are very proud to belong, which has proven its maritime qualities on all the seas of the globe, which we strive to perpetuate, modestly of course, but with a sincere conviction so that our descendants, seeing these modest boats, can say that their ancestors had taste and good maritime sense, which is a very nice compliment for all.

One Olonnois among others. January 99.

*A long way has been traveled since that date. Today, in January 2025, nearly 50 restored Olonnois are moored to the pontoon at the M, proudly sporting more than 60 years of existence.

**Sailor's song "Loguivy de la Mer"

***In the musical repertoire of the Amicale singing group