In the collective imagination of maritime Brittany, the fisherwoman is often this stone figure scanning the horizon from the port. Yet, in Séné, history was written differently. At the end of the 19th century, if you had come across a Sinagot — that sturdy red-sailed lugger — you would have been surprised: between the handling of the mizzen and the dredging of oysters, the women were not passengers, but full-fledged sailors.
More than saleswomen: true female sailors
Unlike other Breton communities, the women of Séné did not merely sell the harvest. They were indispensable to the handling. The archives of the Vannes Maritime Registry are clear as early as 1868: “women actually fill the place of sailors whose duties they perform”.
On board, they participated in everything: trimming the jib, holding the helm, or tacking in the capricious currents between the Île d’Arz and Ilur. Marie Dagouassat, a former navigator, remembered it with emotion: “My sister Josephine and I took part in the handling, we loved it!”. For these families, the presence of women was not a vanity, but an economic necessity to avoid paying for outside labor.
A fierce struggle against the administration
This female presence was not to everyone's liking. On several occasions (1852, 1861, 1885), maritime commissioners tried to ban women and girls from going aboard. The goal? To force owners to hire "boys" to train the future sailors of the French navy (the class system).
But the Sinagots did not give in. Mayors and fishermen multiplied their petitions, arguing that depriving women of work would reduce families to beggary. Faced with this resistance, the authorities often had to turn a blind eye, granting unofficial "safe-conducts" or exemptions for widows.
The intimacy of the deck: Odette du Puigaudeau's testimony
To understand the harshness of this life, one must read the ethnologist Odette du Puigaudeau. She describes the body's adaptation to the tiny space of the boat:
“I learned to crawl on all fours into the “cabin” ahead... to curl up in it like a sleeping dog after the fishing was over.”
Life revolved around the “bi”, that cramped forward compartment lined with straw where one slept fully clothed. They cooked godaille (or cotriade) there, a soup of second-rate fish and potatoes, which they savored with a simple scallop shell as a spoon. Between two fishing trips, the women never remained idle, bringing out knitting and sewing work on the deck.
Cunning and courage
The Sinagots were no shortage of spirit. During fishery guard inspections to track down small oysters (illegal fishing), they showed unwavering solidarity. The commissioner of Vannes noted with annoyance in 1882 that it was very difficult to search these boats because the women took advantage of their petticoats and bodices to hide the young oysters that should have been thrown back into the sea!
Ernestine Morice: The last sentinel
One cannot speak of the women of Séné without mentioning Ernestine Morice (1909-1999). Although she worked in the canneries of Quiberon, she remains the very image of local fortitude. We remember her walking the holds of the Île d'Arz with her wheelbarrow full of fish. Ernestine bridged the gap between this 19th-century subsistence fishing and the heritage preservation we know today. She proved that the sea was, in Séné more than anywhere else, as much a family affair as a man's.
Text inspired by the book: Sinagots - History of a maritime community in Brittany: Gilles Millot:
Photo credit: Lithography: Léon Bartholomé
Did you know?
In 1883, there were 882 women aboard for oyster dredging in the Vannes area. An impressive figure that testifies to the vital importance of these “female sailors” in the economy of the Gulf of Morbihan.