Friday 29 July 2011       39:04.80N         1:36.19E

It was hard to leave this place, but

On, in the morning, east now then

All too quickly, south east in a

Fresh force 4 or 5, we tacked to

The Punta Grossa til Tago-

Mago Hove in view.  We anchored

In azure water under a bluff

So complex in its striations

It invited contemplation

Of the power of geological

Forces and the length of ages

Gone.  Sheltered from the south, we

Snorkelled and Deborah found nine

Species.  Promising ourselves only

A ‘small lunch’ (harder to achieve

Than say) we ate heartily then

Fell into siestas.

At evening (drinks and swims all done)

We watched a clouded front approach,

And wind increased, and leeward cliffs

Loomed nearer.  Summer lightning skimmed

The coast of Spain.  The anchor, laid in sand,

Lay on our minds.  Then dark enveloped

Us and we three slept,

In time, while skip, awake and watchful,

Leapt to turn off the alarm.  This

Was the twenty ninth.