Rowed out to Briongloid last night, for a evening wander, pursued for a while by a lone seal. We had an easy time of it, sailing close-hauled into a steady breeze from due west, and making about 8kph over the ground towards towards the light on the Old Head. With full main and working jib hoisted, she barely heeled at all; would have carried a genoa easily, I think.
As the sun eased down to the western horizon, we tacked for home, bore off onto a broad reach, and trimmed our sheets to make the best of the easing wind, riding a feather-light breeze for the last mile home. By the time we stepped into our dinghy again to row back to the slipway, the sun was down and the moon had risen above the woods framing our harbour. The light of it struck warm silver-cream highlights from the dew glistening on Briongloid's hull and deck - dings, scrapes and weathering all hidden in the dark, only her outline remained to the eye, sleek curves gleaming against the blackness.