Through the watery morning half-light the immense profile of the White Cliffs of Dover slowly emerges from the mist.
The patchy white chalk cliffs, eroded by salt and wind blowing in from the English Channel, stand proud as a great British symbol of homecoming loved by travellers returning to south coast shores.
By their size, their striking colour and utter dominance of England's craggy south-east coast, the cliffs have acquired a heroic, almost romantic significance. Yesterday mist and dark clouds swirled around them, engulfing Dover Castle as it kept a watchful eye over the town below.
When, 60 years ago this weekend, the sailors of a flotilla of hundreds of "Little Ships" returned to Dover after rescuing 34,000 British and Allied troops from the beaches of Dunkirk, their first sight of the cliffs must have been mixed with joy and relief.
"When we came back from France we were tired but overjoyed that we had made it. It was the greatest rescue operation of the war," said Michael, a Dunkirk veteran who took his Little Ship across the Channel to save British and Allied soldiers. "When we saw the cliffs we knew we were home. We knew we were safe."
Standing beside an original Little Ship, the L'Orager, Raymond Baxter, Admiral of the Association of Dunkirk Little Ships, describes his feelings as he is about to set sail for Dunkirk for the 60th anniversary commemoration of that daredevil rescue. It is 7.30 a.m. and the mist is finally clearing.
"I bought this ship in 1963," says Raymond as he explains that young sailing enthusiasts who were inspired by the bravery of the Dunkirk veterans now own most of the Little Ships. "I wasn't looking for a Dunkirk ship. It is almost as if I was guided to her."
A former Spitfire pilot, Raymond is saddened that this is the last year that the Dunkirk veterans will commemorate the rescue. "They are very old men now . . . but we will carry on. I will probably cry when we get to Dunkirk. It is very, very moving," he said.
A few minutes later the 62 Little Ships that took part in the original rescue are given the allclear, after days of bad weather, to begin their journey. On the cliffs above Dover hundreds of people stand waiting for the Little Ships and their guide across the Channel, the Royal Navy frigate, HMS Somerset, to move off.
On the dockside, hundreds more gather waving British flags and the flag of St George. At 8.40 a.m. the Northern Ireland-born Commander of HMS Somerset, Paddy McAlpine, announces over the ship's Tannoy: "Slow ahead, port." And with that the frigate eases gracefully into the deep water of Dover dock.
Within minutes the Little Ships, including estuary cruisers, London barges and the smallest among them, the 26ft Firefly, emerge from Granville Dock to take up their positions behind Somerset.
From the dockside Little Ships with magical names such as Bluebird, Misty, Maverick and Atlantide sail by as the sunlight dances on the water. The people on the dockside cheer and wave at the sailors who wave back or salute as the Little Ships form two fingers of four abreast in formation behind Somerset.
It takes almost an hour for Firefly, Atlantide and their colleagues to reach the deep open water beyond Dover Dock. As they bob and dance against the gentle movement of the waves, their flags and bunting ruffled by the wind, a Spitfire flies above and dips its wing in tribute. Slowly the Little Ships sail away into the hazy horizon.