Moosk, the gaff yawl, born at the watershed between the eras of sail and steam, wins her anchor. Stray gusts, of the blustery north west wind, spill down the high cliffs to fill her sails.
The local boats, escaping the working week, for a weekend at anchor, have returned home.
Leaving Cawsand Bay to a handful of pelagics, out for the summer; and the paddlers from the village. Allowing Stargazer the space to re-anchor, closer beneath the cliffs, in our favoured spot, as the wind veered on Sunday evening.
Moosk gybes sweetly, sets her staysail and puts to sea. Stargazer follows suit, bound for Guernsey.
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