His surf buddies call him the white wolf. To everyone else he is
just R.S.
Welcome to the unlikely world of Rene-Sebastien Fournie, a French
priest who persuades young wave worshippers to consider committing
themselves to a higher power: God.
With the blessing of the Bishop of Bayonne, R.S. has been a regular
feature on the Atlantic beaches of the southwestern corner of
France for the last two years.
His business card describes him as a "worthless servant of Christ."
And when he swaps his cassock for a wetsuit, he also pops on a dog
collar to ensure fellow surfers know there is a purpose behind his
presence.
The trim 39-year-old, who is also an accomplished fencer, made it
his mission to connect with local youth after returning from six
years of study in Rome.
"We're used to seeing him turn up on the beach in his robes," said
Enguerrand De Riberolles, 20. "Everyone is intrigued by him.
"I've heard people ask him if he is in disguise -- he always
replies, 'I'm both priest and surfer'. He's a simple guy and he
talks to everyone, so it goes down well."
R.S. himself confirms his integration into the often hedonistic
surf set. "If there is a barbecue on the beach in the evening, I
get invited out of curiosity," he says.
The priest took up surfing because he had noticed that local youths
were only to be found in bars of an evening, preferring to spend
their days on the beach.
His bishop has also instructed him to engage with youngsters during
the Fetes de Bayonne, an annual five-day festival in August that is
synonymous with debauchery.
"The return on the investment on that score has been modest," he
notes wryly. "But I have had a few pleasant surprises. It is not
unknown for me to hear a confession from someone in the middle of a
street at midnight, or to see young surfers or partygoers come and
pray at the cathedral.
"I spread the good word, it works and brings them back. It's not in
vain."
