Saturnalia
“The wind blew cold rain in my face as the little naval cutter pulled up under oars to the dock at Tarentum. It was an evil time of year to be at sea, months past the good sailing season. Of course, as far as I am concerned, there is no such thing as a good sailing season. We had left Rhodes in similarly foul weather and hopped among the tedious string of islands, then up the ragged coast of Greece. From there we hopped across the strait that separates Greece from Italy, then around the southern... cape and into the relatively sheltered waters of the Tarentine Gulf.
I went up the gangplank and stepped ashore with my usual sense of profound relief. I didn’t quite get down on my knees and kiss the ground, but only from a sense of decorum. Immediately, my stomach began to settle. But it was still raining.
“Land!” Hermes cried with intense, heartfelt relief. He was carrying the bundles of our belongings beneath both arms. He hated the sea even more than I did.MoreLess
I went up the gangplank and stepped ashore with my usual sense of profound relief. I didn’t quite get down on my knees and kiss the ground, but only from a sense of decorum. Immediately, my stomach began to settle. But it was still raining.
“Land!” Hermes cried with intense, heartfelt relief. He was carrying the bundles of our belongings beneath both arms. He hated the sea even more than I did.MoreLess
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