The Ulysses Voyage by Tim Severin

Author:Tim Severin [Severin, Tim]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Publisher: Lume Books
Published: 2013-07-09T04:00:00+00:00

The pirate Maniots of the Middle Ages and the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries could be said to have been worthy heirs to the Laestrygonians who ambushed Ulysses' squadron and cut it to pieces. Whether after the Trojan War or during the Crusades, the Mani was ideally placed as the ambush from which to pounce on the unwary sailor. But it was a remarkable 'hollow harbour' which clinched the identification. We came upon it some fifteen miles beyond Taenarum after a long hot passage beneath the towering cliffs of Kakovani, a great bulge of coast that juts out into the Gulf. In a landscape already remarkable for its bleak hostility, Kakovani would have sent shivers down the spine of any Bronze Age captain. The cliffs go on and on, seemingly for ever, fully exposed to a sudden gale from the west. There is no anchoring depth beneath them, and no protection. A galley caught by a gale would be swatted against those cliffs like a housefly. Yet there is no avoiding this sector. Coasting around the Mani the Kakovani cliffs must be skirted, and for at least five or six hours of rowing a vessel would be entirely exposed to danger. The relief that Ulysses' captains must have felt as they rounded the last turn of the cliff wall, and saw the coast opening into a sheltered bay, must have been enormous. The crews, weary from hour after hour of toil, baked by the heat reflecting off those lofty cliffs, would have quickened their stroke, and headed for the welcoming shelter. Behind the tongue of a small peninsula, today called Tigani, 'the Frying Pan', they would have already been in what the Admiralty Pilot calls the 'best harbour on the west coast of the Mani'. But the Admiralty Pilot refers to the roadstead, suitable for large ships to anchor and send boats ashore. For a Bronze Age galley there was shelter even more attractive. Scooped from the north face of the bay is a remarkable hollow in the hillside. It can be seen from three miles off, and its curious shape beckons the stranger arriving by sea. As you draw closer, it can be seen that the cliff curves round in almost a full circle. At the sides the two arms of rock fall away to low promontories that almost touch. There is just room for a galley to slip in between the promontories, gently rowing without the oars touching the sides. Once inside, the vessel is in a circular pool, the geological phenomenon that is the harbour of Mesapo.

'This place gives me the creeps,' muttered Peter Warren, another veteran of the Jason Voyage, as Argo crept in through the pincers of the entrance. It was a strange remark for Peter, a big tough ex-Marine, but we could all sense what he meant. The place was a freak of nature, airless, still and unnatural. It had a dead feel despite the cheerful colours of a handful of fishing boats moored to take advantage of this total shelter inside the hollow cliff.

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