Our last day in Noirmoutier was really delightful. We met the mayor this morning, a dynamic young guy named Noël Faucher, whom everyone seems to like. We also met the fire chief, Jean-François Paquier, who invited us back to the fire station for a tour. David and I got to ride there with him in his little Citroën chief’s truck from the Hôtel de Ville.
Station No. 18 was already busy when we arrived around 11.30. The junior firefighters, of whom there are six, ages around 12 to 18, were doing their weekly four-hour training under the supervision of two or three volunteer pompiers (firefighters). The kids had on full regalia, including yellow helmets and black coats as they hurried hose from the bed of a firetruck, hooked it up to a wheeled hose cart, then hustled it to a designated location. Later we saw them undergoing fitness training in the engine bay, including an exercise in which they had to jump up and grab the rim of a platform about ten feet off the ground, then hoist themselves up on it. (The trained firefighters hoisted the shorter kids up so they could grab the platform.)
Chief Paquier commands another full-time pompier, who is his assistant chief, plus a battalion of 38 volunteers. In the busy summer months, when the “summer people” and visitors flock to the island, the station is staffed around the clock by 12-man shifts. Six spacious dorm-like rooms on the second floor have two beds each, and views over the salt marshes or the town. They have a roomy dayroom, and a kitchen with an adjacent lounge. Even when they are not staffing the fire station, the firefighters are required to do a minimum of one hour of weight training in the station’s well-equipt gym. “Of course they can come use it anytime they wish,” Chief Parquier explained through an interpreter.
The engine bay is quite huge, housing five vehicles, a high-speed rescue Zodiac boat, and two tank trailers, one for water and one for chemical fire suppressants.
The fleet includes two Renault pump trucks and a Land Rover Defender fitted with a snorkel for use on the marshes. Two new Renault ambulances recently joined the fleet. Paquier said they are replaced every year due to their heavy use. A new fire engine is expected to be delivered next month to supplement the fleet. Equipment is modern and up to date, and includes tools such as the “jaws of life” and oxygen tanks. Everything is sparkling clean and properly stowed. The station serves most of the island, particularly the more populated north end. There is a small satellite station in the south.
After our tour of Station 18, we walked around town a bit before visiting a creperie for lunch. Apart from a few souvenirs (I got Montavius a little something, too), we have not had to spend a cent. The generosity of our hosts is almost embarrassing. They paid for lunch before we could flag down the waitress. After lunch we walked around the old part of town with its narrow street, and visited the church in which we saw St. Philbert’s vertebrae in the crypt. He’s the patron saint of Noirmoutier, and I’m curious where the rest of his is stashed, and how they came to get that hunk of his spine and another relic.
After a nice stroll on the levee along the canal that fills the harbor, we went to the local youth center where we met with most of the students who will visit Crestview next year, and their parents. They had many good questions for me. Later the mayor joined us again, as did the headmaster of their school. Everyone always wants to know what I think of Noirmoutier. I wasn’t lying when I’d tell them I find the place captivating. I really want to come back again. Parents’ concerns mostly centered around hurricanes, and they were relived when I told them hurricane season is about over when they are scheduled to arrive.
Before dinner we went to see some of the German blockhouses from World War II, part of the Atlantic Wall. As the Allied invasion of occupied France came from the beaches of Normandy, Noirmoutier’s blockhouses were never attacked, and today form an indestructible reminder of France’s years of German occupation. There were nine of them all in the same area on the northwest beach we visited. One has been turned into a sort of museum for fishermen. Our translator, Dr. Marie-Thérèse Reed, who holds dual U.S. and French citizenship, told us that she has friends who converted a blockhouse in another section of the island into a home, building the residence atop the concrete. The blockhouse itself “makes a very fine wine cellar,” she said.
Saturday evening we had a farewell dinner at the home of the president of the sister city committee, René Relandeau, and his wife Madeleine. It started at 7.45 and we didn’t leave until almost 11, as French dinners are delightful social opportunities. It was a superb meal and their home is beautiful. We had to be up for breakfast at 6.45 Sunday morning in order to leave at 7.15 to catch our 9 a.m. train in Nantes for Paris. It was sad bidding our new friends on Noirmoutier “adieu,” but as the island’s allure will most certainly draw me back again–many times, I hope–it was more of an “au revoir.”
