Two days in St. Pierre
Sept 3-4, 2025
As soon as we were officially checked into St. Pierre, the crew, led by Denise, went in search of pastries. Armed with a recommendation from Rockport neighbors and sailors Tom and Mary Amory, we did not have far to go. The nearest pâtisserie was less than a ten-minute walk away. With a corral of wooden tables situated next to an active frontage road, it was not the most peaceful place to enjoy a coffee but the pastries more than made up for the lack of a quiet venue.
Pâtisserie in St. Pierre
St. Pierre Pastries
Having had our initial “fix” of French pastries, the crew dispersed to pursue their individual activities, a first priority inevitably being a long shower after five days at sea.
In addition to providing for personal needs, access to a full-service marina provided the opportunity to resupply the boat with water, fuel, and food. According to the sailing guide, the local fuel service would bring a tanker to the dock if you ordered at least 200 liters of diesel. Since leaving Rockport, we’d put approximately 63 hours on the engine. (The hour meter on the engine quit over a decade ago so I rely on log entries to estimate the elapsed engine time. ) There are three fuel tanks in the belly of the boat, with a full capacity of 80 gallons (303 liters). They are arranged end-to-end, starting under the galley and ending midship. Upon arrival in St. Pierre, the tanks read 5/16, 6/16, and 4.5/16 respectively, indicating 26 gallons (98 liters) remaining on board. Given the math, that implied room in the tanks for an additional 54 gallons (205 liters). Voila, the required 200.
As it turned out, the fuel truck was able to squeeze in 209 liters at the price of 1 euro per liter. For those interested in fuel economy, that rate of fuel consumption from Rockport, Maine to St. Pierre, France was 0.76 gallons per hour at 1400 to 1500 rpm. With full tanks, and estimating a conservative average speed of 4.0 knots, that meant we now had sufficient fuel to motor for over 435 nautical miles. The milage to our planned winter-storage destination of the Bay of Island Yacht Club was over 350 km away and it was reassuring to know that we now had enough fuel to motor the distance if the wind and waves were against us.
As Lillian was getting refueled, Hill and Brimmer went off to investigate the local pubs. Once the refueling was complete, I joined Burke and Denise for a relaxed walk-about, randomly turning one street corner after the other and ending up in a belvédère overlooking the town.
Denise and Burke Munger at a belvedere overlooking St. Pierre.
Sam Lowry in St. Pierre
Come dinner time, the crew reconvened at the restaurant, Le Select, also recommended by Tom and Mary Amory. The ambiance, drink, and food were excellent. The only disappointment was when Hill and Brimmer re-encountered some patrons who had bought them shots at a pub earlier in the day and they were eager to return the favor. Burke, Denise and I were already outside, but apparently Hill and Brimmer were informed, in no uncertain terms, that the establishment of Le Select does not serve “shots.”
Le Select Restaurant (from their webpage)
Perhaps they might been more successful if they’d ordered a vodka tonic, no lime, hold the tonic, … but then proprietor probably never saw Five Easy Pieces:
“Jack Nicholson: OK, I’ll make it as easy for you as I can. I’d like … a chicken salad sandwich on wheat toast, no mayonnaise, no butter, no lettuce.
Waitress: A number two, chicken salad sandwich, hold the butter, the lettuce and the mayonnaise. Anything else?
Jack Nicholson: Yeah. Now all you have to do is hold the chicken, bring me the toast, give me a check for the chicken salad sandwich, and you haven’t broken any rules.”
Disappointed at not being able to buy their new-found friends a shot, Hill and Brimmer headed back out to the bars while Denise, Burke and I headed back to the boat.
The following day, Thursday Sept 4th , was our second day in St. Pierre and the first day in over a week that we had no scheduled tasks to accomplish and no one had to stand watch. I don’t remember exactly how the day went, but it would have been something like the following.
The Lillian B. has three cabins: 1) a forward V-berth, 2) an aft Captain’s Cabin, and 3) a central salon housing the galley, a dining table, and two settees, one to starboard and the other to port. Every since I’ve had the boat, I’ve sleep on the starboard settee because it gives me a reassuring view of the instrument panel above the nav table. Burke and Denise occupy the V-berth because it’s the most spacious … although being spaciousness and being in the bow has its disadvantage in rough weather. Brimmer occupies the port settee, just because he always has, and Hill, with the sleeping habits of the (relatively) young, gets the Captain’s Cabin.
Thursday morning, Denise would have been the first up and off the boat to make sure to get to the pâtisserie in time to purchase a fresh baguette and pastries before the best ones were gone. Being an “old” man (my wife says once your over 70 you are officially old), I would have gotten up a couple of times during the night but, fortunately, have no problem going right back to sleep. Come around seven I would have looked over to see Brimmer (being an “old” man who wakes up and doesn’t get back to sleep) already busy reading or solving Wordle or some other New York Times puzzle. After literally rolling out of bed, I would have flipped the circuit breakers for the propane tanks, lit the stove and put on water for coffee.
Shortly after the coffee was ready, Burke probably came out from the forward cabin for his morning cup. And, Hill would not have come out until much later. When he’ s not scheduled for a watch, there is no telling when Hill will emerge from his cabin or even if he is in there. Hill quickly learned that a bunk packed with pillows, sail bags, laundry and other bulky items is the best way to be swaddled in rough weather. Occasionally, only an exposed body part would let us know the “bear” was still hibernating.
Hill hibernating in his cabin
After a slow start, the rest of the day would have been relaxed free time with everyone off conducting their own activities. For me, that meant staying on the boat to e-mail, blog, and read several chapters of “Into the Ice,” Mark Synnott’s book about sailing the Northwest Passage and searching for Franklin’s grave. And, taking advantage of the crew’s absence and with no-one being within close proximately, I pulled my saxophone out of its case and attempted (à la Karaoke) to accompany Billy Joel in “New York State of Mind” from the deck of the Lillian B. I did attract one listener who shared the fact that, he too, liked to play the saxophone and his wife, like mine, would banish him to the far reaches of their house. We both agreed it was great fun.
About the time I had put the sax back in its case, Denise and Burke returned to the boat and we headed out to join Hill and Brimmer in town. After some investigating , we ended up for dinner at the Le feu de Braise. Their website describes them as “a traditional French cuisine in a warm atmosphere, with a breathtaking view of one of the busiest streets in the city.” I would rather describe them more as a family restaurant on the second floor with picture windows, but the staff was very friendly and the food was very good. After dinner we again parted ways, with Hill and Brimmer off to Le Bar Rustic and Burke, Denise and I home to bed. The next morning Denise left before 7 to catch a flight to be back in Rockport in time to chair the Town’s Select Board Meeting and by 0930 the remaining four of us had left France headed for the entry point to Canada in the town of Fortune, Newfoundland.