All my kinsmen shouted objections, and a noisy argument raged. But I beat them down, one by one. For one thing, I cited the advantages of cooperation with a shipping firm whose home port was too far away to compete directly with us. By joining forces with this Eldagon—provided I liked the cut of his artemon—we could make ourselves leaders in long-distance shipping in the entire Inner Sea.
As I spoke, another thought struck me. I said nothing, because my kinsmen would have tried to make me give it up. I recalled the arguments of Agatharchides and Artemidoros about the shape of Africa, and Herodotos' tale of the Phoenician fleet that sailed around Africa, and the Gaditanian fisherman whose horse-head stem post I had found. If they could do it, why not I?
I should have to time my arrival on the Eastern African coast to take advantage of the six-monthly southwest wind. Then, I should leave this coast at the Southern Horn and head northeast over the open sea to India. Thus I could exploit the Indian trade without coming in reach of the Ptolemies' greedy »rasp, and it was surely no riskier than searching for India by sailing west into the unknown Atlantic.
I knew the danger. Beyond the deserts, Africa was said to swarm with wild beasts and wilder men, some of whom would jive a dinner for foreign visitors with the visitors as the main course. None knew how long the African coast was. It had taken King Necho's Phoenicians over two years to make the circuit, with two stops of five or six months each to grow a crop of wheat, so their actual time in transit was more than a rear. Even if, with a large, modern ship, I could better their time, the Indian Ocean was still a vast, unexplored sea. Who mew when a storm might hurl me ashore on some unknown, monster-haunted continent in the midst of it?
But then, what had I to lose? I had spent two years on lose Indian journeys, and all I had to show for them was the name of an intrepid voyager with interesting tales to tell. But had had that repute before I ever went to India. I had lost the only true love of my life. Among my fellow men, a cuckold is a figure of fun, and I had no doubt that many Kyzikenes laughed at me behind my back. So I did not foresee a serene and pleasant old age in my native city.
Therefore I resolved, while I was still active enough, to try the most daring voyage that man had ever essayed. If I succeeded, wealth and fame beyond that of kings should be mine. If I failed, I should at least go out in a blaze of glory.
One who would not sneer at my misfortunes was old Glaukos the physician. While the Ainetê was being readied, I spent an afternoon with him. I discussed my problems and plans, except the circumnavigation of Africa.
"Yes, I met your Hippalos," he said. "A charming fellow, who would be none the worse for hanging. Tell me, suppose you catch up with him and your wife, what then?"
"I'll kill him, first."
"If you can. He's a big, powerful fellow, and you are not exactly a youth."
"I can still throw men half my age in the gymnasium. Anyway, I'll take my chances."
"How about the law? Revenge is sweet, but having your head chopped off afterwards is bound to take some of the pleasure out of it."
'That's not likely," I said. "He's a homeless wanderer. There would be no kinsmen to prosecute me, not even a Corinthian consul to bring an action on his behalf."
"Don't be too sure. Gades is under Roman rule, and Roman law differs from ours in many ways."
"I'll ask about it when I get there."
"All right, suppose you slay Hippalos. What will you do with Astra?"
"Bring her back, of course."
"Will you beat her?"
"I suppose I ought, but I—I don't think I could. I love her too much."
"When you get her back, how will you satisfy the lusts that led her to run off in the first place?"
"Oh," I said. "I hadn't thought that far ahead. But a wife's duty—"
'To the afterworld with her wifely duty!" said Glaukos. "When I was younger, I took those catchwords seriously, also. We men like to think of our women as passive vessels, satisfied to keep our houses and bear our brats. Nice girls are not supposed to enjoy being frittered, but to submit as a wifely duty. The fact is that they like it just as well as we do, and they get just as cranky and skittish when they don't have it."
"You sound like one of those Egyptians, who give their women almost as many rights as men."
"Hmp. Tell me, how often have you and Astra had a really successful bed-scrimmage in the last—how long since you got back from India the first time?"
"Nearly three years."
"Well, how often during the two years between your Indian voyages? I mean, where she quaked at the climax like a fish on the hook."
I thought. "Oh, perhaps four or five times."
"There you are. A healthy woman of her age ought to be well plumbed at least once or twice a ten-day. Another of my patients has similar trouble; in her case the cause is that her husband loves another man. Howsomever, perhaps you had better leave bad enough alone."
"You mean to ignore this adulterous pair? Let them go scot-free?"
"Just so—unless Astra has repented her bargain and really wishes to return to you."
"I couldn't do that! The honor of the family demands—"
"Honor, phy! Another catchword. Don't try to make up your mind right away, but think over my advice."
A month later, I set sail in the Ainetê with a cargo of Scythian wheat, Bithynian timber, and Mysian silver and wool. I stopped at Peiraieus to sell it and loaded up with Attic goods; then on to Dikaiarchia in the bay of Neapolis, in the shadow of Mount Vesuvius; then to Massilia, and so on until I threaded the Pillars of Herakles and so came to Gades.
At each stop, besides selling my cargo and buying a new one, I had talked to the shipping people of my grand project. I had no trouble in getting an audience, for my fame as the man who had twice sailed to India had run ahead of me. This reputation enabled me to profit most gratifyingly from this voyage. Many merchants, I think, bid on my goods more for the sake of questioning me about the Indian trade than because they needed the goods.
I also got offers to go shares on the journey, and some to go with me. I chose a few of these, such as the Athenian physician Mentor and his apprentice, and several shipwrights. I meant to be as well prepared for disaster as foresight could render me. As a result of these additions, the Ainetê was badly crowded by the time we reached the Bay of Gades, at the mouth of the Cilbus.
Gades is a small city, at the northern end of a long, narrow island, called Kolinoussa, across the mouth of the bay. We tied up at a quay on the eastern side of the island, next to the temenos of the temple of Herakles, among the massive, high-sided ships used in the Atlantic trade. I also saw several small fishing vessels with horse-head stem posts; but I must admit that these did not look much like the one I had found on the African coast.
Aside from this temple and one to Kronos on the west or seaward side, there was little to see in Gades. Inside the wall, the city consisted mainly of warehouses and facilities—taverns and lodginghouses—for sailors. The houses of the merchants, landowners, and officials were villas scattered around the periphery of the bay and on the smaller island of Erytheia, in the midst of the bay.
The streets of Gades swarmed with sailors, dock workers, and merchants. They were a mixture of Hellenes, Phoenicians, Moors, native Iberians, and now (since the Roman domination) Italians as well. The various peoples did not inhabit separate districts, as in Alexandria. The crowded quarters and the shifting population, over half of which was at sea at any one time, made such segregation impractical.
The different races had been mixing and intermarrying for many years, so that one met people with names like Titus Perikles ben-Hanno. They looked like any other nondescript seaport crowd. With modern transportation, all the port cities in the Inner Sea are coming to look more and more alike.