Title:from the logs of the good ship Nausicaä: Day Two: from Megara to Peiraeus : () : polites of Athenai: 7/29/2001,8:06:25< prev next >

Dawn spread over Megara as the Nausicaä's crew boarded. Clymene and Verona hoisted the mainsail while Macrinus sat sleepily on deck. "Father Zeus," Verona snarled, "Would you draw up that anchor? We need to catch up with the Zealous Zephyr and it's starting to rain!" Macrinus grumbled, hoisting anchor, "Women!" Soon, with sails outspread, the Nausicaä sped on east on Zephyr's breath. Clymene gazed at her hairdo in the bronze mirror. "Why didn't you join the feast?" "I was saving an old man from starvation," Verona replied virtuously. "No sooner was he seated at table than the Harpies darted down and carried his food off, always leaving behind a sickening odor. I had to rub olive oil under everyone's noses against the stench." "How did you get ride of those disgusting birds?" Clymene asked, hungrily munching the lone remaining baklava. "I gave him the basket of baklava, and when the Harpies suddenly pounced down to snatch it, I shot at them with arrows, driving them away," Clymene looked queasy. "In gratitude, he told me how to pass through the Symplegades." "You mean THOSE rocks?" Startled, Macrinus's cry was drowned out by a loud crash. The Symplegades, shrouded in thick mist, rolled together, more swiftly than the the thundering winds. Verona quickly grabbed Ody, and, on nearing the rocks, let him fly. Impervious to the deadly fear that gripped the crew, he flew between them, the clash nipped off the tip of his tail. When the rocks began to part, the Nausicaä sailed swiftly through, passing between them relatively unscathed: only her rudder was scratched. Escaping the peril, they had sailed barely a hundred leagues before they heard a horrid murmur, which they knew to be dreadful Charybdis, her whirlpool's throat sucking the black deep, making a deafening sound as it broke against the rocks. Thrice a day she drew up the salt seawater and spouted it out again so furiously that all the waters about her boiled like a kettle. "What now?" an exasperated Verona asked. "She'll swallow us at one gulp!" "Not if we tie the ship to that tree," said Clymene, pointing to a large fig tree under which the whirlpool dwelt. Both women glanced meaningfully at Macrinus. "Not me!" he said shaking his head emphatically, but he knew that resistance was futile. Verona dug through the basket and found the pair of wax earplugs. "Here," she instructed him, "Stop your ears with these so the ceaseless roar doesn't make you turn your face to view the whirlpool." Groaning, Macrinus stuffed the earplugs into place, grabbed a coil of rope and, deaf to the clamors of Charybdis, tied the Nausicaä's mast to one of the branches that overshadowed the pool. Patiently, craft and crew waited. Once Charybdis drained dry the sea, she started to belch forth the waters. Macrinus, swifter than the flash of an eye, let the Nausicaä loose just as the monster vomited forth her waters with such terrific force that it sent the ship through the air over the waves, speeding on ever farther from the furious eddy. "WOO-HOO!! I'm the Queen of the World!" Clymene exclaimed as the water spouted and foamed 'round the Nausicaä, carried ever eastward by Zephyr's friendly wind. ..."You want me to what?!" Macrinus exclaimed. "It's simple," said Verona, as Clymene chuckled in the background. "Just figure out how to take us into that maze and bring out the statue of the Minotaur." Staring at the huge watery maze with sign on a buoy at the entrance saying "START HERE," he blanched. "Simple? Simple?! But ... but ....", Macrinus stammered. Facing two glaring crewmates, he nodded assent. "Okay, but I'll need both of you to help. Clymene, tie the extra rope onto the anchor rope, then tie that yarn you keep knitting to the rope. Toss over the anchor and tie the other end of the yarn to the mast. This is our starting point. Pray to Poseidon that the yarn doesn't break and start unravelling! Verona, go to the bow and tell me which direction to steer." "Port, starboard, port, port, starboard," shouted Verona, "No! Back up! Don't you know port from starboard?" "How do I back up?" sighed the frustrated pilot. Finally after many false turns and narrow escapes, with Clymene madly untying the yarn, they reached the center. There they found a number of small golden statues with a sign reading "One per customer." Securing their reward, the weary crew retraced their soggy lifeline back to open sea. Hours passed. The crew slouched on deck, tired, cold, wet, hungry, and chilled from the wind. Idly, Clymene took up her knitting, swatting Mac's fingers as they strayed to the wine amphora. Verona idly watched the shore passing by. Sheep could be seen cropping the grass, but no shepherd tended them. "Where d'you suppose everybody is?" We're close enough to Athenai that I was sure people would be watching for us." "They're all at the bars," groaned Macrinus, "And don't I just wish I were there with them!" Night came fast with the drizzle, and out of the gloom the terrified crew espied the monstrous hulk of a mighty shepherd striding towards them, driving his charges into their fold. He clutched a great staff, and a single eye glared from his forehead. With gigantic strides, the Cyclops overtook the Nausicaä, barely a stone's throw from shore. White-faced, Clymene motioned the other two creep under the oxhide shield. She pulled on the jumper she had been re-knitting, which (owing to its unravelling) resembled a fleece. "HOY THERE," boomed the Cyclops, spying the ship, "WHAT IS YOUR CRAFT CALLED?" "Nuh-Nuh-Nothing," Clymene stuttered sheepishly, one hand firmly on the tiller. "I HAVE NO SHIP," observed the Cyclops, looking covetously at the Nausicaä. "SHEEP, GIVE IT TO ME THAT I MAY EAT MY FILL OF HUMANS IN ATHENAI." "Nothing shall be yours," promised Clymene. "To celebrate, son of Poseidon, try this fine wine, worthy of your dad!" The shield clattered on deck and muffled protests could faintly be heard. Surreptitiously clasping her votive statue and muttering a prayer to Hera, Clymene lifted the amphora and was nearly caught in Cyclop's grasp as he took it. As he drank, a cow ambled onto the beach. "DELISHSHUSSSHHHH," said the Cyclops thickly, his eye (now bloodshot and bleary) fixed on the ship. "NOW NOTHING SHALL BE MY REWARD." Clymene trembled as he reached over the waters, but suddenly he stumbled over the cow and sprawled full-length onto the beach. His staff whacked him behind one hairy ear, and sleep that conquers all overwhelmed him. The Nausicaä bobbed past, and Clymene breathed thanks to Cow-Eyed Hera for delivering them. "There!" shouted Verona, creeping out from beneath the shield, "there's Pieraeus harbour!" "...and THERE!" retorted Macrinus, "There comes the Zealous Zephyr!"