We are in Lacanau-Océan, on the Atlantic coast some sixty kilometres to the west of Bordeaux, and we are outside an angular building that could easily be mistaken for offices or a warehouse, or possibly a supermarket. It is in fact a church, Notre-Dame des Flots, and its unusual minimalist design and red-brick architecture have been listed as 20th-century heritage (Patrimoine du XXe siècle). What’s the story?

In 1907, shortly after the resort of Lacanau-Océan was first founded, one of the initial property developers erected a small wooden chapel on Rue de la Paix, not far from the seafront, to enable holiday-makers to attend services which, from 1920 onwards, were held on a daily basis during the summer season. Although it was extended over time, the chapel ultimately proved to be too small. What is more, it faced twin threats: being swallowed up by sand dunes and being slowly eaten away by termites! 

The original chapel in amongst the dunes. On the right, the extra window shows how it was extended. Source: delcampe.net

The chapel was abandoned and dismantled, and the decision was made to build a more durable edifice. A larger plot of land was acquired by the Bordeaux diocese in 1960, the purchase coinciding with the creation of a local parish structure, “Association Paroissiale de Lacanau-Océan”. During this interim period, open-air services were held, although a new makeshift weather-resistant wooden chapel was soon built at the new location.

In 1964, an agreement was ratified by representatives of the Archbishop of Bordeaux, the vicar of Lacanau and the chairman of the Parish Association committing to the construction of a new church, to be built to the designs of Patrick Maxwell, Jean-Claude Moreau and Francis Duclos (Agora architects). Finances came in the shape of a loan from the Catholic Church’s “Chantiers Diocésains”; the 220,000-French-franc outlay would have to be paid back over 20 annual instalments of 17,000 francs (by doing the maths it is easy to work out that there were substantial interest rates involved!). The Parish was in effect signing up to years of fund-raising initiatives ranging from fêtes and jumble sales to hiring out the church as a venue for secular events. (And still today, the church is an occasional concert venue.)

Foundation stone ceremony in 1964.
Picture source: information leaflet
available inside the church.

Anyway, the foundation stone was laid by Bordeaux’s Cardinal Richaud in August of 1964. Budgetary issues led to hastily revised plans for the building, possibly resulting in the back-to-basics end-result which was delivered in 1967. In some ways it was very much a two-in-one design: through the use of panels, a heated corner of the building could originally be closed off to serve as the winter chapel for year-round worshippers, while the full space was used when the church was operating to full capacity during the holiday season, where it could accommodate up to 600 visitors. The building also comprised a small apartment where the priests-in-residence could stay.

But the aforementioned budgetary constraints were to have other knock-on effects ten years down the line, when it became apparent that the iron framework was fighting a losing battle against the salty sea air, that some of the cheap materials used were also ageing badly, that the roof was anything but watertight, and that the electrical installation needed to be replaced. The building therefore underwent a massive overhaul and over the next decade the Parish shifted its focus from paying off its debts to investing more in the upkeep of the church.

Bricks and mortar.

In 1991, the building was greatly embellished by the installation of some stained-glass and ceramic artwork by Raymond Mirande, manufactured by the Ateliers Dupuy-Fournier glassmakers, along with the addition of a slender row of stained-glass windows that run along each side of the church just below ceiling height. Of the main Mirande creations, which are positioned behind the altar, the first represents Noah’s Ark, the second depicts Virgin Mary alongside an adolescent Jesus, and the third comprises a series of images ranging from a dove of peace, to depictions of Pentecost and Jerusalem. 

Stained-glass creations flanking the altar and along the sides of the building.

A closer look at one of the Mirande stained-glass creations, photo courtesy of Harvey Morgan (https://avec33.fr/)

From then on it was fairly plain sailing until the turn of the millennium when a health and safety audit established that the church was short on exits and could only reasonably welcome up to 200 people rather than 600! The Parish got to work with an architect to create some additional openings to enable the church to get back to operating at full capacity throughout the early years of the 21st century, the first major highlight of which came in September 2015, just ahead of the 50th anniversary celebrations, when the prestigious “Patrimoine du XXe Siècle” label was awarded. Hurrah! 

Further views of the church, including its eminently accessible front door and, bottom left, the rear of the building, including living quarters on the first floor.

The church is not usually open to the general public other than when services are being held, but by recently engineering an arrival on site around noon on a Sunday I was able to see inside, courtesy of two very kind ladies who were clearing up after that morning’s mass and who invited me and my travelling companions to enter. We were reluctant to outstay our welcome, so the visit was particularly swift, but we did find the time to admire the stained-glass windows and a 330-kilogram bell which is kept inside and was previously the property of a convent in Lyon. 

The inside of the church and the bell from Lyon. Check out the corrugated metal ceiling/roof, which in all likelihood was installed during the 1970s overhaul. Presumably it must be get very noisy when it's raining!

Our hosts also spontaneously led us to the leaflets detailing the history of the church, as they were quick to point out that there was little or no information available on the internet. Well, that is no longer the case as the church does now at least have its own Invisible Bordeaux report, based almost exclusively on that archive information compiled by whoever wrote those leaflets on behalf of the Association Paroissiale de Lacanau-Océan, so a big thank you goes out to them for sharing the story of Notre-Dame des Flots… undoubtedly one of Gironde’s most interesting and unusual places of worship! 

> Find it on the Invisible Bordeaux map: Notre-Dame des Flots, 12 avenue de l'Adjudant Guittard, Lacanau-Océan
> Thank you once again to the kind ladies who let us look inside the church, and to whoever wrote the Association Paroissiale de Lacanau-Océan information leaflet which formed the basis of much of the content shared here! 
> Ce dossier est également disponible en français !

An interesting post recently published on social media included a 1970s clip of a hovercraft criss-crossing the Gironde estuary between Lamarque and Blaye, on the route that is more naturally associated with its small-scale car ferries. This was news to me, and investigating further also enabled me to uncover the significant link between hovercraft and the town of Pauillac. How was this all connected, and where shall we begin?

The natural starting point is the story of one of France’s most emblematic innovators, Jean Bertin (1917-75). Among other breakthroughs, Bertin invented the technique of thrust reversal used by many jet aircraft to slow down upon landing. He was also the man behind the famous failed experimental “Aérotrain” hovertrain concept developed between 1965 and 1977 (which at the time lost out to the TGV high-speed train concept, but is not dissimilar to the hyperloop projects that are currently taking shape).

 Jean Bertin (photo source: Aéroclub Jean Bertin) and his famous failed Aerotrain project. And a combine harvester.

As early as 1955, Bertin founded his own company, Bertin et Cie, and in time created dedicated subsidiaries for his various ventures. He set up one for the Aérotrain project and, in 1965, he formed SEDAM (Société d'Etude et de Développement des Aéroglisseurs Marins), operating out of Marignane, near Marseille, with a manufacturing facility close to Bayonne. SEDAM was similarly driven by air cushion technology, and was specifically focused on the development and production of what would become its “Naviplane” range of amphibious hovercraft.

SEDAM’s first key deliverable was the N300 30-ton hovercraft. Two units were produced, the Baie des Anges, configured to transport cargo, in 1967, with the Croisette coming the following year and designed to carry up to 90 passengers. Both entered into service on the Mediterranean coast, shuttling between Nice airport, Cannes, Saint-Tropez, Monaco and San-Remo in Italy. SEDAM also produced a much smaller model, the N102, designed to carry two crew and 12 passengers. It never achieved any significant success, despite extensive commercial trials in different situations such as in the Mediterranean resort of La Grande Motte, as a means of reaching isolated beaches.

An N300 in Nice (photo source: Reddit) and an N102 somewhere near La Grande Motte (photo source: Le Maxi-Mottain).

And the story goes that in 1971, the Baie des Anges N300 was acquired by the Gironde département and converted in order to be used in conjunction with the existing ferry for the regular Gironde estuary crossing between Blaye and Lamarque, as well as heading to Pauillac and sometimes Bordeaux (to a hoverport reportedly located just by Pont d’Aquitaine). It could carry four vehicles and 38 passengers and it took the hovercraft just five minutes to get from one bank to the other on its primary route. As such it functioned between July 1971 and December 1975, totting up 20,000 crossings and 4,000 operating hours.

 

Click here if video does not display properly on your device.

Why did the council revert back to a more orthodox 100% ferry service? This is unclear, although three factors could easily be pinpointed. Firstly, the high levels of noise whenever the Naviplane arrived and departed, particularly in the densely-populated town of Blaye, was undoubtedly unpopular with residents. Secondly, the ferry alternative boasted a far greater capacity, able to carry 40 vehicles and 350 passengers. And thirdly, the Baie des Anges became synonymous with a couple of unfortunate incidents. In one, the Naviplane’s front door had not been securely closed and, upon discovering this, the fast-moving craft was brought to a sudden halt by the pilot. The door opened, water flowed in and a luxury Citroën ended up in the estuary. Happily, nobody was hurt. The other, during a night-time crossing, saw the hovercraft colliding with a stationary radar mast approaching Lamarque, causing structural damage to the craft.

Souvenir postcard (source: Aeromed).

This is where the hovercraft landing platform was in Lamarque. It is now home to "La Paillote de Steph".

 

According to some reports, this would appear to be the approximate location towards the base of Pont d'Aquitaine suspension bridge where hovercraft would land in Bordeaux.

Meanwhile, come 1973, SEDAM was struggling to make ends meet but began working on a far more substantial, 260-ton model, the N500, the largest passenger hovercraft of its time, and which was designed to carry up to 400 people, 55 cars and five coaches at speeds of up to 70 knots (around 130 kilometres per hour). Two firm orders were secured for this more ambitious project, from the Gironde département (with a view to the craft operating the Royan-Le Verdon crossing at the mouth of the Gironde estuary), and the SNCF (to be deployed on its English Channel route). There were further commercial leads from elsewhere, such as Canada, and for the route between Nice and Corsica.

Possibly drawn to the invigorating air of the Gironde estuary, in December 1975, SEDAM relocated to Pauillac, operating from a large estuary-side warehouse just to the north of the town. And Pauillac was therefore where work on the N500 commenced, conducted by one Paul Guienne, who had also directed studies on the Aérotrain project. SEDAM began building the two inaugural Naviplanes: N500-1, for the Gironde order, became known as Côte d’Argent, while the SNCF’s N500-2 was originally to be called Côte d’Opale but was subsequently given the name Ingénieur Jean Bertin as a homage to Bertin, who passed away during that period. But it would not be plain sailing for the two N500s…  

Click here if maiden flight video does not display properly on your device.

The Côte d’Argent’s successful maiden flight took place on the estuary in April 1977, but during minor repair work (ahead of a ministerial visit) being carried out by SEDAM subcontractors the following month, a technician stepped onto a bare lightbulb, which exploded and set alight a spilt bucket of adhesive solvents. The whole craft caught fire and was totally destroyed in under an hour, all this occurring just a few days before it was set to be inaugurated by Prince Charles at a lavish ceremony. This tragic end is detailed, complete with archive photos, here.

Picture showing the aftermath as released by the investigation unit, one of many photos featured on the dedicated Naviplane website.

After an epic voyage from Pauillac to Boulogne-sur-Mer that took 25 hours with countless refueling stops along the Atlantic and Channel coasts, the Ingénieur Jean Bertin entered into service in 1978 with Seaspeed, the SNCF/British Rail joint venture, operating alongside two British SR.N4 “Mountbatten class” hovercraft, and enabling the Channel to be crossed in under 30 minutes (including a record-breaking 22’15” Dover-Calais crossing which was never officially registered because no adjudicators were present!).

In 1981 the Ingénieur Jean Bertin was transferred to Hoverspeed (the result of a merger between Seaspeed and Hoverlloyd) and was widely refurbished in response to demands issued by SNCF, re-entering service for a short period in 1983 before being decommissioned then generally left to rot and be broken up in Boulogne-sur-Mer in October 1985. (More generally, Channel hovercraft services were soon to enter a downward spiral with the opening of the Channel tunnel in 1994. The last cross-Channel hovercraft was withdrawn from service in 2000.) 

The Ingénieur Jean Bertin N500 arriving in Dover. Photo source: Wikipedia. 

Back in Pauillac, SEDAM was not doing well. The Gironde département had withdrawn its sole order, choosing instead to redirect finances to more urgent requirements (road infrastructure and schools). In addition, the SNCF would also not be providing any further custom, as they had come to regard the British SR.N4 as a superior craft. Towards the end of the 1970s, the company was taken over by the Dubigeon-Normandie shipbuilders, but folded completely in 1983, its final project no doubt being the refurbishment of an N102 which had been purchased many years previously by an Egyptian entrepreneur based in the United Arab Emirates.

Despite the company’s collapse, the Pauillac warehouse still contained the two retired N300 hovercraft and four N102s. An auction was held in May 1983 and a Bordeaux scrap metal merchant purchased the N102s. A restaurant owner acquired the Baie des Anges with the plan of converting it into a restaurant in Pauillac but was not authorized to do so. Plans to sell it on came to nothing so the craft stayed put in the warehouse. The Croisette was bought by a Pauillac scrap metal merchant but it too remained on site. Towards the end of 1983, both were scrapped completely and the SEDAM story came to a quiet end.

So, what remains today of the hovercraft adventures of Pauillac and SEDAM? Well, in Pauillac, the SEDAM warehouse is now used by the Baron Philippe de Rothschild wine company for storage ahead of distributing their produce worldwide. Across the road from the massive hangar and the wide space that is now a car park (where that fateful 1977 fire destroyed N500-1), a large concrete platform serves as a reminder of where the hovercraft were launched on to the estuary. The picture below was taken from that platform, looking back towards the SEDAM hangar.

 Thanks to the ever brilliant IGN Remonter le Temps website, it is possible to see how things used to be. First, here is the scene in 1976, with what appears to be two N102s stationed outside.

And here is the same view in 1977... with a single N500, in all likelihood Ingénieur Jean Bertin.

Of the N102s which ended up in the hands of a Bordeaux scrap metal merchant, in recent years two were recovered from their resting place in Villenave d’Ornon by a group of enthusiasts with a view to renovating and restoring them. That adventure is lovingly detailed here and, to cut a long story short, the two wrecks have been turned into a rejuvenated N102 Naviplane which now sits proudly on permanent display outside the Château de Savigny-lès-Beaune in the Burgundy region of France, as this Google satellite view of the area below right clearly shows!

Left picture source: hangarflying.eu

Finally, while the use of hovercraft to transport large numbers of passengers has faded over the years (although services do still operate on routes such as that connecting Portsmouth and the Isle of Wight), the technology continues to prove its worth in complex military situations or to deal with rough terrain where no other type of craft is capable of operating. And, who knows, it may one day make a comeback, including in Gironde where the subject often comes up as a potentially effective solution to connect central Bordeaux with Blaye and the tip of the estuary!

 

In the meantime, interest in hovercraft has anything but waned. There are many archive clips available on Youtube, there is a fantastic website dedicated to Naviplanes alone, and in this social media age you can even find a Facebook page that talks about nothing other than the Jean Bertin N500 Naviplane!

So get googling, check out naviplane.free.fr and investigate for yourself the weird and wonderful world of hovercraft, the then-futuristic whirr of which was, for a few years in the 1970s, a common sound on the banks of the Gironde estuary! 

 

> Find it on the Invisible Bordeaux map: Former SEDAM hovercraft factory, Pauillac; Bac Lamarque-Blaye ferry port, Lamarque; Bac Blaye-Lamarque ferry port, Blaye.
> Much of the information in this piece was found on the incredible naviplane.free.fr website, which is heavily recommended reading!
> Top photo source: Aeromed
> Cet article est également disponible en français !

Invisible Bordeaux recently picked up a series of postcards showing different stages of a funeral procession through the streets of the city centre in the early years of the 20th century. The event was clearly a big deal, as the pictures showed enormous crowds lining the route, with many people also peering out from windows and balconies to pay their final respects. This was in fact the city’s final goodbye to Cardinal Victor Lecot. So who was Cardinal Lecot and why was his funeral such a momentous event?

Victor Lucien Sulpice Lecot (or Lécot) was born in January 1831 in north-eastern France. Aged 24 he became a priest in Compiègne, to the north of Paris, ahead of being ordained bishop of Dijon (in 1886). Then, in June 1890, he was appointed to be archbishop of Bordeaux, at a time when the Catholic church was stronger than ever in the city, with new congregations coming together in all quarters (he consecrated Saint-Louis-des-Chartrons in 1895) and the church’s influence even seeping into the press through the publication of Le Nouvelliste de Bordeaux et du Sud-Ouest… renowned for its royalist, anti-Republican tendencies!

Lecot remained archbishop of Bordeaux until his death but was also elevated to cardinal in 1893 by Pope Leo XIII, and appointed cardinal-priest to Santa Pudenziana basilica in Rome the following year. He was one of the members of the conclave that elected Pius X, and was himself Papal Legate at celebrations held in Lourdes in 1908 to mark the fiftieth anniversary of the supposed appearances of the Virgin Mary to Bernadette Soubirous.

In France, the start of the twentieth century was a tumultuous period, with the official split between Church and State (and the start of the French Republic’s notable secular status, or “laïcité”) occurring in 1905 after 25 years of embattled debate opposing different views of the role of the Church. As you might imagine, Lecot was very much on the side of those wanting to retain close ties between Church and State, whilst also striving to do everything in his powers to avoid any form of conflict even if he was unable to prevent mass protests from being held.

And tensions were still high when Lecot died on December 19th 1908 in Chambéry, in eastern France. His funeral was held eleven days later, on December 28th, in Bordeaux. The authorities were aware that the funeral procession would draw mourners in their thousands, but also that the event could easily spark trouble.

Top - The funeral procession on Place de la Comédie. Bottom - The horse-drawn hearse carrying the coffin.

The most complete account of the event has been written by one Annie Ribette and can be read on the Cahiers d’Archives website. Ribette notes that the following day’s edition of Le Nouvelliste reported that nearly 2,000 men (soldiers and gendarmes) were in position from 7am onwards to keep the crowds under control along the route of the funeral cortege and to prevent intruders from infiltrating the procession (a special laissez-passer was required in order to join the ranks of the procession).

Ribette’s report features many archive documents, including the official laissez-passer, which records that Lecot’s corpse was scheduled to be removed from Notre-Dame church at 9am. Photographic evidence suggests that the procession then worked its way towards Place de la Comédie, along Cours de l’Intendance, down rue Vital-Carles (where the Archbishop of Bordeaux’s former official residence was located, although it had become home to Gironde’s prefect... in itself a massive source of tension), and then on to place Pey-Berland, no doubt finishing up at Saint-André cathedral, although it is unclear whether Lecot’s remains were immediately assigned to the tomb which is now his.  

Top - The funeral procession moves along Cours de l'Intendance, with many onlookers peering down from windows and balconies. Bottom - The Pontifical Swiss Guard was on hand.

It is thought that 50,000 people were present along the route to pay their final respects to Lecot, although the heavy-handed security came in for a great deal of criticism. Annie Ribette refers to the socialist union and revolutionary political newspaper La Bataille reporting on the “state of siege” in Bordeaux, adding that those people “who had travelled from all parts of the city and region were prevented from saluting the remains of the Cardinal of Bordeaux. The troops who had barricaded the city’s streets had been ordered to turn their backs to the cortege. Those honours could have been dispensed without preventing the public from attending the funeral”. That same newspaper underlined the fact that Lecot’s passing was in no way acknowledged by the French Republic, as since the “law of separation”, ecclesiastical dignitaries like Cardinal Lecot no longer enjoyed any form of official status in the eyes of the Republic.

The procession reaches Place Pey-Berland. 

Even without this Republican recognition, there was a definite sense locally of how historic the occasion was. Several requests for authorisation were submitted with a view to capturing the event on film, this being the early days of cinematography. Looking at the wide angle photographs of the procession on Place de la Comédie, it is striking how many photographers and filmmakers are present. But beyond the stills such as those featured here, how much of that movie coverage has survived, if any?


A closer look at the group of photographers and cinematographers gathered on Place de la Comédie.

And what traces remain of Cardinal Lecot himself in the city? Of course, the most symbolic and prominent memorial is none other than the cardinal’s monumental tomb inside Saint-André cathedral. His first name was also given to Saint-Victor church on rue Mouneyra in Bordeaux, founded in 1905 while Lecot was still Archbishop of Bordeaux, although the current edifice was built during the Second World War period and finally consecrated in 1947. Oh, and there is also a street named after him in Bordeaux and a "Cardinal Lecot" bus stop in Blanquefort, which is no doubt exactly what the great man would have wanted. Its location in the suburbs is not as random as it may at first seem: it is close to where the Château de Gilamon winegrowing estate once stood (later aptly known as château Larchevesque), which is the property Lecot acquired and lived in after moving out of the rue Vital-Carles residence. 

Above - Cardinal Lecot's final resting place inside Bordeaux cathedral.

Above - Saint-Victor church on rue Mouneyra. Below - The ultimate accolade: Lecot has his own posthumous bus stop in Blanquefort.

And, of course, what also remains are those incredible pictures of the city, showing scenes that Bordeaux is unlikely to see again anytime soon, and scenes that alone do not tell the full story!

> Locate Saint-Victor church on the Invisible Bordeaux map: rue Mouneyra, Bordeaux.
> Cardinal Lecot picture source: Wikipedia
> As stated throughout, the most complete account of this event can be found on the Cahiers d'Archives website
> Ce dossier est également disponible en français !