DOI Page / Citation link:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.5504#0032
126 Travels in Greece, Turkey, and the Holy Land,
not a little proud; and, among these, that of wearing, like
the Osmanlis, the white turban, is not the least in their esti-
mation. I made a drawing of the islands of Spalmadori, and,
opposite to Scio, of the city of Tchesma in Asia Minor. This
strand, which witnessed the defeat of the galleys of Antio-
•chus, one hundred and ninety one years before the Chris-
tian era, saw likewise, in 1770, the entire destruction of the
Turkish fleet by the Russians : several of the Ottoman ships
were burned; and the flames, which lighted the massa-
cre of a great part of the crews, favoured the escape of the
remainder. From this dreadful blow—from this terrible ca-
tastrophe, the Turkish marine has never recovered.
A fresh breeze from the north-west afforded me a rapid view
of Nacri, Lipso, Lero, Colmine, Stahcho, Nicero, Biseopi, Car-
chi, and, lastly, Rhodes. On the night of the first of Novem-
ber, the sea rose in billows, the vivid lightnings Hashed, and,
the wind still augmenting, we lost sight of the coast of Cara-
mania. From the third until the seventh in the morning
the storm raged with unabated fury.
The winter evenings are very dreary on shipboard, and in-
spire, in boisterous weather, an invincible sadness. I vainly
interrogated myself why I had quitted my country, my friends,
and calm repose, when the waves covered the vessel's deck,
when the moon was concealed by black clouds, across which
the lightnings gleamed, and when the fatigued and disheart-
ened crew ceased to hear the captain's Toice. The best
reasons then appear either frivolous or absurd. Constant suf-
ferings, and dangers to which we appear to be fruitlessly ex-
posed, are not, however, entirely lost on us: great and pro-
found impressions give a new stimulus to the mind, and exalt
it to the pitch of the noblest meditations. It is perhaps on
the deck of a vessel beaten by the storm that the world is best
judged, and its grandeurs and miseries most truly appreciated.
What a destiny is that of the navigator! He sets out on his
voyage full of life and hope : suddenly exposed to the horrors
of shipwreck, he has still to struggle against his destiny, to
form an estimate of the danger, to calculate the duration of bis
own agonies, and, lastly, to have recourse to expedients which
may lead to his inevitable destruction.
On the morning of the sixth of November land was seen
from the mast-head. A general anxiety was displayed, to
catch, through a thick haze, the glimpse of a mountain, the
form of which each chew, according to his own fancy, in a dif-
ferent way. Mount Carmel was at length descried, having for
its base an uneven strand : this was the bay of Caifa.
The brig came to anchor opposite the small village of Caifa,
not a little proud; and, among these, that of wearing, like
the Osmanlis, the white turban, is not the least in their esti-
mation. I made a drawing of the islands of Spalmadori, and,
opposite to Scio, of the city of Tchesma in Asia Minor. This
strand, which witnessed the defeat of the galleys of Antio-
•chus, one hundred and ninety one years before the Chris-
tian era, saw likewise, in 1770, the entire destruction of the
Turkish fleet by the Russians : several of the Ottoman ships
were burned; and the flames, which lighted the massa-
cre of a great part of the crews, favoured the escape of the
remainder. From this dreadful blow—from this terrible ca-
tastrophe, the Turkish marine has never recovered.
A fresh breeze from the north-west afforded me a rapid view
of Nacri, Lipso, Lero, Colmine, Stahcho, Nicero, Biseopi, Car-
chi, and, lastly, Rhodes. On the night of the first of Novem-
ber, the sea rose in billows, the vivid lightnings Hashed, and,
the wind still augmenting, we lost sight of the coast of Cara-
mania. From the third until the seventh in the morning
the storm raged with unabated fury.
The winter evenings are very dreary on shipboard, and in-
spire, in boisterous weather, an invincible sadness. I vainly
interrogated myself why I had quitted my country, my friends,
and calm repose, when the waves covered the vessel's deck,
when the moon was concealed by black clouds, across which
the lightnings gleamed, and when the fatigued and disheart-
ened crew ceased to hear the captain's Toice. The best
reasons then appear either frivolous or absurd. Constant suf-
ferings, and dangers to which we appear to be fruitlessly ex-
posed, are not, however, entirely lost on us: great and pro-
found impressions give a new stimulus to the mind, and exalt
it to the pitch of the noblest meditations. It is perhaps on
the deck of a vessel beaten by the storm that the world is best
judged, and its grandeurs and miseries most truly appreciated.
What a destiny is that of the navigator! He sets out on his
voyage full of life and hope : suddenly exposed to the horrors
of shipwreck, he has still to struggle against his destiny, to
form an estimate of the danger, to calculate the duration of bis
own agonies, and, lastly, to have recourse to expedients which
may lead to his inevitable destruction.
On the morning of the sixth of November land was seen
from the mast-head. A general anxiety was displayed, to
catch, through a thick haze, the glimpse of a mountain, the
form of which each chew, according to his own fancy, in a dif-
ferent way. Mount Carmel was at length descried, having for
its base an uneven strand : this was the bay of Caifa.
The brig came to anchor opposite the small village of Caifa,