The King of Ithaca and his men are journeying to the Land of the Dead to hear the prophecy of Teirsesias. However, more perils await Odysseus and his crew while they cross the ocean.
The cerulean waves sparkled beneath the warm sun as my ship moved forward through the sea. My crew and I were eager to reach the Land of the Dead, where the prophet Teirsesias would tell me how to return home safely.
As the sun disappeared behind a cloud, the only things on the minds of myself and my loyal companions was our return back to Ithaca, where family and friends had been left behind for several years.
Continuing to reflect on our individual thoughts, we failed to notice that the sky was growing darker by the moment. Not until the rain that had begun as a steady stream fell onto our faces did we come out of our trances.
Growing slightly uneasy, I glanced up at the sky, where I could see many a dark rain cloud gathering, ready to wreak havoc on the ship below. I was not wrong in thinking the storm would end soon; instead, lightening and thunder filled the sky, bringing more torrential rain with it.
Hearing a sharp yelp, I turned my attention to the crew. Scanning the rows, I could see several gaps on the benches. Men were beginning to panic seeing others fall overboard into the frothy ocean.
I tried to yell above the noise in an attempt to calm down the crew, but complete pandemonium had broken out. What was worse, the sky had become dark as the wool of a black sheep, and I could no longer tell which way we were heading, which was perilous in this sea of troubles.
As if the gods had heard my thoughts, the ship struck a large object on her starboard side. The once chaotic crew settled down immediately and looked to me for a plan of action. Motioning for them to continue rowing, I set off to the gaping break in the faithful vessel that had carried us for so long. I watched flowing water from the ocean seep onto the deck and engulf the feet of my men as I thought up a scheme.
Glancing around at the paddles, I decided on a plan of action, and without further ado, I commanded my crew to use our cooking pots and pans to bail out the water coming onto the ship. While they did this, I took a few handfuls of beeswax from our supplies, as well as a broken paddle to the scene of the accident.
The wood was just the right size to cover the hole, and I used the beeswax to keep it in place. The beeswax would be adhesive enough to keep the paddle in place until we reached shore, where we could repair it better. The men saw that I had succeeded in plugging the hole, and quickly finished bailing out the small stream on board.
Almost as if it had been some kind of examination for me, the ocean settled once again into its inexhaustible rising and falling, and the rain ceased.
My men seemed to feel this caused for celebration, hence they brought out wine and a bit of food. As I ate a bit of bread, I tried to feel as merry as the others, but my actions were fruitful. I couldn't help but wonder whether or not the gods were testing my wits and ingenuity while the storm took place or not, however, I'll never know.