Harbat's coast is mainly chalk-cliffs dropping steeply downwards, and coarse grass tormented in the wind. Silence. A winding path leads up from Harbat harbour to the cartographer's home on a jutting cliff. In the distance down below you can hear creaking and groaning from the ship graveyard. From the cartographer's home, the road goes on to the desolate lighthouse. Beyond, there is nothing of interest.
At the other side of the town's coast, a bit more inland, the gallows tree loom forebodingly in the distance, with all around, nothing, but the sound of the wind and the hangmen swaying in it.
At the far end of the island is the belt, with gulls hovering above it.