Some waves came up overnight, though in Norderney, there was no weather.
At the commercial wharf, a thin stream of white exhaust rose vertically from the ferry.
The first service would depart soon. The puddles lay dark in the stone streets
and in the garden, and on the narrow walk. A bank of haze hung a hundred meters
offshore, perfectly still. While at the end of the long pier, the shallow-bottomed tjalk
that Tomas had restored, good at hauling, bad at sailing, knocked against the pilings.
It was regular enough that you began to expect the next knock