Morlaix to Sark

We were faced with the prospect of light northerly winds to get home, long distances and not much sailing, but the prospect of the lovely Ploumanac'h (pic) as a stopping place. It's called the rose granite coast, strewn with pink rocks the size of small asteroids, and arranged by a master gardener. And so it was for a couple of days, some slow sailing and some motoring, up to St. Peter Port. We saw a dolphin, one only, on the way in, but it didn't come and surf our bow wave as we invited it to do. But we had a day in hand, sunny, and decided to go to Sark, and then either Braye or Cherbourg before the big hop.
Crew morale low due to lack of rope-pulling, wind getting colder, end of idyll engendering thoughts of turning round and going back south. But then ......