Grand Bruit means 'great sound' and it is indeed loud! The thundering echoes around the little bay. The church is to the right.

The bell tower of the church has collapsed and, if you open the door and look up, the bell is perched precariously on the fallen timbers.

A tow courtesy of Terry, from the Fisherman's Wharf, to get us 'back home'.

The Coastguard from Burgeo came to our rescue when the shaft and propeller 'uncoupled' from the gearbox.

The final get together on Saturday evening was a dance opened by Mummers - a fancy dress tradition. I was dragged up to join in with an 'Ugly Stick' (a homemade percussion instrument).

The open-air stage at the beach. The final dance went on well into the dark hours and the small floor was packed.

Andrez getting a little over enthusiastic I fear!

On dusk, a young Moose appeared on the road and then disappeared into the trees. We waited until he came out the other side of the stand of trees, but by then he was quite a distance away.