( Delayed posting - No data signal)
The morning sun eagerly unwraps the jewel island of Sark from its cotton wool shroud of sea mist. Cats paws of breeze pad across a still sea, fluttering ensigns and sending Sunday dinghies scampering. Church bells sing out over the stillness of our bay.
I'm rested now. Ready to catch Monday morning's tide South to Brittany. We're promised a passage making N5. Ile de Brehat beckons.
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