IAN STEPHEN’S BRITTANY WEBLOG

Yarning His Way To Brittany 

2 September 2008

STORYTELLER, poet and Northings’ contributor Ian Stephen will be checking in from his landfalls on his latest storytelling trip

Last day at sail loft 2 before strolling along the hoil to join a boat - or rather two boats – on the home run to Brittany. They've been to Faroes and one of them on to Iceland. The crews have stories to tell and some of them are on the blog of photographer Guy Boily who is aboard (google Guy Boily and click on the sailboat icon on his home page)

My mate Shuggie who built the Norwegian pram (boat with cut off front), he met them because they flew the Free Tibet flag - we've all become friends. There have been dinners. There have been sessions of tunes and yarns (also called, by Australians, talking shite and, by Americans, bullshitting). What the hell, it’s the national sport of the Isle of Lewis and that's flickin’ well that.

So we sail tonight. Apologies to the An Sulaire Trust meeting - apologies to any others who are waiting - have done my best in the available time, but must pay the blacksmith who will probably only accept the basic rate for the unpatented mast-gate fitting he has improved from an old design, and built to necessary and sufficient standards to get Broad Bay sailing again. More of that story later for those who are also promiscuous in their dealings with boats.

And he won't accept payment for the wittiest yarns streaming out through the design and build process. But he can't adopt his normal price-ing structure this time (he's not going to make a part-time lectureship on business practice at UHI) which is – just bring it back when you're finished with it and I'll make it into something else.

But this thing happened this year – the paid work just didn't seem to be there for the coming year and I wrote the Scottish Arts Council to apply for a bursary. The application asks if I can yarn, on paper but in promiscuous fashion, from love affair to love affair – though most of them are with vessels.

The literature dept said yes, so I can eat for two years, and only last week realised that I could say yes to the kindest of offers – to join a crew and share their boat which is also their home these days and nights.

So the planned route is Port Ellen, Bangor, Howth, Scillies and a hop across to maybe Brest. So maybe I can meet again some of those met at Ouessant Island Writers festival.

But I'm not thinking to the possible landfalls. I'm thinking of the list that's still major. Thinking of my eldest son who is kayaking torrents in Nepal and how I tut-tutted watching the last minute scramble before he managed to leave.

And the loves left behind. I have to go to Vigo (a boat not the place) to collect some gear and do a last check. Will bail Graassavig (Shuggie's pram) on the way out. Will phone the Loch Erisort team to say sorry, we've a sail to get the renewed Broad Bay sailing but won't be there to step the mast for another few weeks.

Can maybe order the life rafts as part of the preparations for next year, adventures for an Sulaire and for El Vigo. Shuggie and me are thinking on Faroes. I want to meet folk who've looked after their fish and their boats and still go with long lines to the sea with the minimum investment and fuss. They should maybe be the ones doing the business studies modules.

So here's some photos of the loves left behind – and the photos will come with me to show new friends - in the Macbook, the contemporary battered leather wallet with the images of those you have no choice with – the ones you care for. You rub oil into their boatskins at certain times. And other times it's healing compounds to sores.

© Ian Stephen, 2008

Links

• Ian Stephen
• Guy Boily

Associated Page

• Ouessant Festival