There seems to be a fine mist approaching captain!
lest we run ashore, have the watchmen climb the timbers!
You daring men in thar nest, scour by sight these fogs
for the lighthouse burning bright!
Aye mate thar she be, but alas this is not our port, the harbor master waits vigilantly staring out into the fog.
The destination for our secret cargo lay further down ze coast at a more private launch.
Andrew
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5 months 6 days ago
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