lanvaon & île wra'ch

There is an oddity on the road down to Lilia, the road leading to the point from whence one sets forth to visit Vierge.

Leaving Plouguerneau, whose church once boasted a navigational light, one proceeds down the D71. Three or four kilometres out of town to the left at a road junction one might spot the Lanvaon postérieur light. A weird looking construction, not immediately obvious as a phare; a squarish tower with a sharply pitched tiled ( I think) roof and a bright red gable end. A light is shown by night from a window just below the red gable. This works as the rear light to the Plouguerneau antérieur feu.

Lanvaon in fact replaced the Plouguerneau church light which sailors couldn't see as it was too far inland and/or up river. I am afraid we overlooked Plouguerneau antérieur feu in our haste to get down to Île d'Ouessant in 2005, not to mention Pontusval*, the extremely tidy little lighthouse with keeper's cottage combination near Brignogan-Plages way back east of Vierge. We must have missed that one by a whisker but at the time we were more intent on class 'A' lights rather than these minor jobs, sweet though they be. So we shall just have to go back and mop them all up some time I suppose. It really is too bad…

*Update: The omission of Pontusval has been put to rights: see appendix five of this blog!

Jean Benoît Héron also skips these lights but can't resist Lanvaon, although he (or most likely his publisher) fails to include it in his Histoire des Phares for some reason… what a pity.

Anyway, we have shuffled round the edifice on two different occasions. Photographing the tower was made awkward by the position of the sun, and limited public access. Lanvaon was built in 1869 with the keeper's accommodation being in the tower itself. It is 27 metres tall or 87ft if you prefer, and it scintillates. In other words it flashes rapidly, almost a flicker. White and intensified to the viewer in the central part of its range: the brighter it looks, the more on course you are, I guess.

More information about this lighthouse and the others in these parts from The Lighthouse Directory.  Illustration by Jean Benoît Héron. Trio up top all my own snappery.

Update: In February 2026 Mme Melling and self passed this way again en route to Brest for a week of r-and-r. The weather was somewhat damp. While vainly trying to secure a crêpe lunch at Lilia we spotted the lantern of the above mentioned partner to Lanvaon, namely Île Wrac'h, Plouguerneau feu antérieur. Built in 1845, so of some antquity. A quick check with The Lighthouse Directory confirmed that this overlooked feu is in fact on an island, only reachable on foot at low tide. We gave it up and looked for lunch elsewhere, without success as Valentine's Day was in full swing and a booking we had not…

Upon returning refreshed from the Brest jolly (we did having a booking in Brest) we came this way once more, with weather conditions worsening (wind and driving drizzle) and this time, after some dead end, wrong headland faffing we approached the promontory off which Île Wrac'h feu is situated. I have to tell you now that any chance of a closer inspection was deemed inpracticable even though I attempted to record what I could see with the loyal box-brownie. Mme Melling stayed resolutely in the motor. I half wished I'd done the same.

So you'll forgive me for resorting to a Trabas likeness filched from the Directory, to give you the unseen see side (seaside?) view of this modest erection. You will note its lack of a respectable lantern, replaced in 1973 by a light on a short mast, when the phare was automated and turned over to wind power. It sports a focal plane of a mere 20 metres, fifteen of which constitute the tower. It flashes red with a range of 15 nautical miles (not bad for such a modest lamp on a stick). 

We tried again to secure a crêpe lunch at the same estab. in Lilia. No booking? No joy. 

We also revisited the title feu of this post, looking a bit shabby I thought, but were reassured to see a good interpretation panel on its (locked) gate and clear indications that there is a local group of sound folk looking after the place… on occasion one can even ascend it! No sign of life when we were in the offing, naturally. Of course, it was raining.