These seamen, like their forefathers, rely upon no winds unless
they are right astern or on the quarter; they rarely go on a wind
if it blows at all fresh, and if the adverse breeze approaches to a
gale, they at once fumigate St. Nicholas, and put up the helm. The
consequence of course is that under the ever-varying winds of the
Aegean they are blown about in the most whimsical manner. I used
to think that Ulysses with his ten years' voyage had taken his time
in making Ithaca, but my experience in Greek navigation soon made
me understand that he had had, in point of fact, a pretty good
"average passage."

Such are now the mariners of the Aegean: free, equal amongst
themselves, navigating the seas of their forefathers with the same
heroic, and yet child-like, spirit of venture, the same half-
trustful reliance upon heavenly aid, they are the liveliest images
of true old Greeks that time and the new religions have spared to
us.

With one exception, our crew were "a solemn company," {12} and yet,
sometimes, when all things went well, they would relax their
austerity, and show a disposition to fun, or rather to quiet
humour. When this happened, they invariably had recourse to one of
their number, who went by the name of "Admiral Nicolou." He was
an amusing fellow, the poorest, I believe, and the least thoughtful
of the crew, but full of rich humour. His oft-told story of the
events by which he had gained the sobriquet of "Admiral" never
failed to delight his hearers, and when he was desired to repeat it
for my benefit, the rest of the crew crowded round with as much
interest as if they were listening to the tale for the first time.
A number of Greek brigs and brigantines were at anchor in the bay