Bernard Deguy's tanned face is full of stories. With a clear gaze, it tells of storms, ice and the scorching sun on the high seas. And when it is silent, it is a knowing silence, accompanied by a smile.But there is a lot to tell: From the first Whitbread regatta around the world, for example, in which Bernard was part of the crew of his compatriot, the exceptional sailor Éric Tabarly, in 1973 - and which ended with a broken mast.
Or of his second attempt, this time on his own racing yacht "Neptune", where he finished eighth out of fifteen starters after 130 days and 27,000 nautical miles.
Born in Breton, he has crossed the Atlantic more than thirty times to date, long as captain for the legendary marine explorer and filmmakerJacques-Yves Cousteau and then for Paul Watson, the Canadian environmental activist whose organisation "Sea Shepherd" has made a name for itself with its uncompromising fight against whaling. Bernard Deguy has been doing this for decades, his whole life,that other people can only dream of. But he still has one big dream - and it's about to become reality.
Lerwick,the centre of Shetland, is a town of grey stone. On a rocky headland, it juts out into the narrow sound that separates it from the island of Brassey opposite. Bare, windswept slopes frame the view. The short greenery clings to the ground. What grows here rarely comes out of hiding. Shetland is a favourite destination for the migrating weather systems of the North Atlantic.not even a stumbling block. You can only imagine what it looks like here when the sky hangs over the islands like a cracked concrete ceiling in winter, threatening to collapse at any moment. And yet everything is different now:
It is mid-May and the locals have to think long and hard before they can think of a year in which a similarly radiant summer has been announced: the sun has been shining over the archipelago for weeks.
The cruise ship passengers out on the sound pose for selfies between the old cannons of Fort Charlotte and dip their toes in the water on the beach behind the Queen's Hotel. A harp seal, which has travelled here from colder climes, basks in the sun on the paved slipway at Victoria Pier. The best conditions for "seafarers" of all kinds.
The municipal guest jetty right next to it is half full. Between a couple of Norwegian sailing yachts, twounusual motorboats, just under ten metres long in the packet for attention. Her flat wedge shape with the wide, straight transom and low deckhouse is more reminiscent of modern sailing yachts, fast performance cruisers that are trimmed for performance and functionality rather than comfort.
The only problem is that someone seems to have forgotten to put up the masts and rigging. "Dromy" and "Lipsi" is the name of the duo with the French tricolour on the stern.
Comparedwith the robust sea rescue boat The two Frenchmen appear purist, light and hardly made for the harsh weather and cold waters of these latitudes, whether on their seaweed-covered mooring, the rust-covered trawlers in front of the fish factory or even the high-sided sailors with their drying oilskins over the railing. And yet the design radiatesa hidden athleticism from. Fitness for special challenges.
A bearded guy, barely thirty years old, from a ketch from Ålesund at the very front of the jetty has the same suspicion. He comes over to take a closer look at the two identical motorboats, which don't seem to fit in here at all.He reads "Loxo 32" on the sharp bow. Five people, one woman and four men, all in their prime, sit with steaming mugs of coffee in the cockpit of the boat inside. In their midst: Bernard Deguy.
The blonde sailor is amazed when he learns that the boats, which are barely ten metres long, have come over from Fjordland like his own crew, from Bergen to be precise, a distance of 180 nautical miles. A weather window had been missed, explains Bernard.
Hardly any wind, just an old swell from the north-west. They had been travelling for a day and a night.
The young Norwegian seems to enjoy the adventurous story. Looking at the flat hull, he asks: "Up and down the swell! More like a surfboard, yes?" The French laugh. Something like that, on the swell instead of through it. The neighbour on the jetty is invited on board and also looks around below deck, where the cabin offers about as much space as a camper van - with a similar ambience. Straight lines and shiny surfaces, lots of plastic.
Tidy functionality par excellence. Teak and brass are nowhere to be found. The clear layout with the upholstered benches along the sides of the hull and the open slip berth in the foredeck also make the Norwegian look more like a sporty dinghy cruiser, which is no coincidence due to the origin of the boat type.
Because the Loxo 32 comes from a family of sailors. At Pogo Structures in Sainte-Marine in southern Brittany, they seem to enjoy pursuing unusual ideas. This has already earned the still young company prizes - including the coveted title of "European Yacht of the Year", awarded annually by the major sailing magazines in Europe.
Why not incorporate this experience into the design of an innovative motorboat? However, it was not only the shape that was important, but also the "endurance". The Loxo 32 weighs barely two tonnes empty. With such a lightweight, 75 hp is enough for a cruising speed of around eleven knots - with a fuel consumption of just half a litre per nautical mile.
This enables a range of at least 300 nautical miles, a basic requirement for legs that will take you across the entire North Sea - and for Bernard to realise his long-cherished dream. In the evening, he tells us what's behind it all.
The bar at the Lerwick Boating Club is the place to meet up again. Club stands decorate the ceiling. The tables are scoured bare and the glasses are full to the brim. They leave shiny rings on the wood with every toast. Outside, the low sun falls on the empty sound. The cruise liner has long since dropped anchor and is steaming towards new shores with its three thousand passengers.
On Bernard's left side sits his wife Florence, petite and wide awake. On the right, Pierre leans back with a contented smile. He is the skipper's brother and the third member of the family. He ran a hotel in Corsica for a long time and his relaxed manner, so typical of the south, is also infectious on Shetland. The crew is completed by Gilles from Volvo Penta in Paris. Their diesels are also in the Loxo 32.
It was only natural that someone from the engine manufacturer should be on board for such an adventurous trip. Gilles didn't have to think twice. He talks to Leslie, whom the French met by chance shortly after their arrival in Lerwick, about the next day's programme. When you're in Shetland, sightseeing is a must - if you know the worthwhile destinations. And that's where Leslie comes in.
An enthusiastic boater himself, he is now heading towards retirement as a building contractor and therefore not only has the local knowledge, but also the necessary free time to show guests the magnificent nature of his coastline up close as a "pilot".
The seaward side of the island of Noss, for example, which seems to fall vertically from the sky for several hundred metres and whose wind-scarred sandstone is now home to hundreds of thousands of seabirds during the breeding season. Or the rock bridges and caves in the south of Bressay, which can only be reached by water. Or the secluded beauty of the remote Out Skerries with the crystal-clear bay of Böd Voe. A programme that you will remember for a long time.
Later that evening, the Norwegian arrives from the harbour and brings two friends with him. They move closer together and expand the group. Skål! The conversation quickly turns to the voyage: "I've always been fascinated by the voyages of the Vikings, they were great sailors," says Bernard. "I myself was also restless and constantly travelling as a child." Travelling long distances, in large and small stages, in a simple way, without haste. Under the protection of the coast as often as possible and across the open sea if necessary. To go with the weather, to wait for and take advantage of opportunities.
"That's real freedom".
Bernard Deguy's passion is obvious. When he heard about the design of the Loxo 32, which is so similar to sailing boats but even more flexible thanks to its higher speed and greater range, he realised that he would be able to realise his dream with this boat, he says. The route would follow the longships of 1000 years ago, voyages that have been immortalised in verse: From Scandinavia across to the British Isles, through the Irish Sea and on to Normandy, whose name comes from the Norsemen.
"I'll soon be eighty years old," laughs Bernard, shrugging his shoulders. "It was now or never!"
The first big step has now been taken. In the end, he will reach his destination in the wake of the Vikings. What a saga.
