Today, we are approaching the realms of Middle Earth: Isengard on our port quarter, Gondor on the port bow, Lorien on our starboard beam, and headed for Ronan. No sightings of Dwarfs, Hobbits nor Ents just yet, but neither of Orcs or Goblins, so that’s good news. The eyes of several lows, on the other hand – rimmed with amber and red on our weather charts – are lurking about, patrolling the area to the south west of us. We pick our way gingerly towards north west, harnessing their wind while avoiding drawing their attention to us, with their big seas and gusts that swirl in lower latitudes.
Meanwhile, the last remains of Île Brehat Boulanger’s bread started resembling dwarf bread, so you could say we are rightly provisioned for the journey ahead over the mid-Atlantic ridge and its hilly underwater landscape named after Tolkien’s world. Although the bread is great for croutons roasted in browned salted rosemary butter, Alex decided it’s time for fresh fare. He kneaded silky, soft and moist wheat dough for proper handmade Kaisersemmeln that makes up our lunch with plenty of salted Bretagne butter and some fresh greenery.
Our time in the Bretagne working on the boat and preparing for the voyage was a succession of gourmet feasts long to be remembered. Butter, galettes, crêpes, biscuits, croissants, cheese, noix de Saint Jacques, some of which we dove up ourselves, the wonderful fresh produce, like French strawberries and apricots at the same time!
Having just savoured the most buttery and flaky croissants imaginable our friends Jean-Luc and Marie treated us to in Troyes on our road trip from Switzerland to the boat, we were spoiled and nothing quite compared since. Hence, we had been on a hunt for the most buttery croissants we could possibly find. At each Boulanger, we sampled the fare, with the most perfect Troyoise delight in mind.
But butter isn’t just for croissants, and we quickly learned that it has the main stage in Breton cuisine. More than delighted to take up local habits, we made sure to take plenty on board for the voyage ahead!
The local market in St Servan, close to St Malo, near the marina where we stayed to finish the last preparations, became our treasure chest of delicacies of all sorts. We chose our favourite fromagier and sampled his produce. Soft goats cheese with fenugreek seeds, for example, or Basque sheep cheese, ‘¡pa chuparse los dedos!’, as one would say if in Spain. Having tasted his butter, we ordered 10kg, two big blocks of deliciousness. One salé, one doux, just to be sure.
Picking up the mots on the next market day, we started having doubts. Quick calculations of the required daily butter intake of each crew member for the next three months resulted in 30 g per person per day. 30 g doesn’t sound like that much, until contemplating that it means eating it every single day. Thankfully, we all love fresh bread and butter!
How does one store 10 kg of butter on a boat for 3 months without a fridge? The fridge was going to be full of cheese, fresh yoghurt made on demand, and delicatessen such as pâté and smoked salmon trout. Picking up the butter, finding the right storage containers and filling them with delicious soft butter, turned the quest of nearly a day. Chopping and massaging the butter into the glass jars, we had time and leisure to take in and physically understand just what amount 10 kg of butter is. Topped with brine, the jars now reside in the bilge, awaiting their turn to be opened and savoured. After about a week at sea, are nearly through the first beurre salé and making good progress through the first jar of doux.
We’re nearing half way on our passage to Greenland, and have left behind the last of the fishing boats before approaching Middle Earth. Each night, an eerie fog descends on us, so damp and saturated with water droplets that it feels alive. As we sail west-northwest, the temperature steadily decreases, and we expect a precipitous drop in some days’ time when entering the first eddies of the arctic currents.
Angie