DOI Page / Citation link:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.10358#0143
n8
PICTURESQUE PALESTINE.
thirty feet in height, formed of rubble faced with stone. The lower part is crumbling away.
It was the corner block of a fortress built here by the Crusaders (see page 105). This place
is now quite abandoned, its walls have fallen, and the cliffs are giving way. The modern
village of Tanturah is about half a mile farther south, and stands on the site of the ancient
Canaanitish city of Dor (see Joshua xvii. 11), but all along the shore there are columns and
capitals, partly embedded in the ground, slabs of marble, and hewn stones, remains of the
Roman city Dora. Women and children may be seen collecting in large baskets the coarse
encrusted salt, which settles in the natural hollows and artificial basins of the rocks on the
beach below. Herds of cattle and goats, the chief wealth of Tanturah, graze on the coast
plain, which is here overgrown with thorns and thistles, dwarf mimosas, and low brushwood.
The village of Tanturah consists of about forty or fifty rudely built houses, made of irregularly
piled blocks of anciently hewn stone, fragments of broken columns, and masses of mud and
clay. On one occasion, in the month of September, when we were on our way from Jaffa (see
page 133) to Haifa (see page 83) in an Arab sailing-boat, we landed at Tanturah to pursue
our journey by land, because " the winds wrere contrary." It was at the same time of the year
(after the Fast of the Atonement, which is kept on the tenth day of Tishri, or towards the end
of September), that St. Paul was tossed about by " contrary winds" on this sea, and when, as
he said, " sailing was dangerous " (Acts xxvii. 9).
We were assured that the voyage from Jaffa to Haifa by sea would not occupy more than
eight or ten hours, and as we were extremely anxious to arrive there as quickly as possible,
my brother made arrangements with the owner of a little Arab sailing-boat to convey us there,
with our servants and baggage. We were ready and waiting, when at midnight he sent word
to us that " the wind was favourable," and that he was ready to sail. WTe hurried down to
the dark wharf accompanied by our kawass and my servant Katrine, a woman of Bethlehem,
and two Carmelite monks who had requested permission to travel with us. The great water-
gate of Jaffa was opened for us, and I was somehow dropped gently into a little rowing-boat
far down in the darkness below, where I was taken charge of by two sturdy boatmen. After
much shouting and jolting we were all huddled together, and the boat skimmed rapidly over
the water to the sailing-vessel which awaited us outside the shallow rock-encircled harbour,
and to which with some little difficulty we were transferred. It was divided into three parts—
the central portion being like an uncovered hold, four feet deep and eight feet square. The
decks, fore and aft, were encumbered with ship's tackle and crowded with sailors, who were
singing lustily. The hold, lighted by two lanterns, was matted and set apart for passengers
and luggage. Our portmanteaus and carpet-bags served us for a couch, and the monks sat on
their saddle bags, wrapped in their comfortable-looking hooded robes. Poor Katrine, who
had never been on the sea before, was very much alarmed. She rolled herself up in her cloak,
stretched herself full-length by my side, and was happily soon fast asleep. Our kawass smoked
his pipe in company with the captain above, and an Italian, who had smuggled himself and his
luggage on board in the hurry and darkness, kept aloof with the sailors. The sky was bright
PICTURESQUE PALESTINE.
thirty feet in height, formed of rubble faced with stone. The lower part is crumbling away.
It was the corner block of a fortress built here by the Crusaders (see page 105). This place
is now quite abandoned, its walls have fallen, and the cliffs are giving way. The modern
village of Tanturah is about half a mile farther south, and stands on the site of the ancient
Canaanitish city of Dor (see Joshua xvii. 11), but all along the shore there are columns and
capitals, partly embedded in the ground, slabs of marble, and hewn stones, remains of the
Roman city Dora. Women and children may be seen collecting in large baskets the coarse
encrusted salt, which settles in the natural hollows and artificial basins of the rocks on the
beach below. Herds of cattle and goats, the chief wealth of Tanturah, graze on the coast
plain, which is here overgrown with thorns and thistles, dwarf mimosas, and low brushwood.
The village of Tanturah consists of about forty or fifty rudely built houses, made of irregularly
piled blocks of anciently hewn stone, fragments of broken columns, and masses of mud and
clay. On one occasion, in the month of September, when we were on our way from Jaffa (see
page 133) to Haifa (see page 83) in an Arab sailing-boat, we landed at Tanturah to pursue
our journey by land, because " the winds wrere contrary." It was at the same time of the year
(after the Fast of the Atonement, which is kept on the tenth day of Tishri, or towards the end
of September), that St. Paul was tossed about by " contrary winds" on this sea, and when, as
he said, " sailing was dangerous " (Acts xxvii. 9).
We were assured that the voyage from Jaffa to Haifa by sea would not occupy more than
eight or ten hours, and as we were extremely anxious to arrive there as quickly as possible,
my brother made arrangements with the owner of a little Arab sailing-boat to convey us there,
with our servants and baggage. We were ready and waiting, when at midnight he sent word
to us that " the wind was favourable," and that he was ready to sail. WTe hurried down to
the dark wharf accompanied by our kawass and my servant Katrine, a woman of Bethlehem,
and two Carmelite monks who had requested permission to travel with us. The great water-
gate of Jaffa was opened for us, and I was somehow dropped gently into a little rowing-boat
far down in the darkness below, where I was taken charge of by two sturdy boatmen. After
much shouting and jolting we were all huddled together, and the boat skimmed rapidly over
the water to the sailing-vessel which awaited us outside the shallow rock-encircled harbour,
and to which with some little difficulty we were transferred. It was divided into three parts—
the central portion being like an uncovered hold, four feet deep and eight feet square. The
decks, fore and aft, were encumbered with ship's tackle and crowded with sailors, who were
singing lustily. The hold, lighted by two lanterns, was matted and set apart for passengers
and luggage. Our portmanteaus and carpet-bags served us for a couch, and the monks sat on
their saddle bags, wrapped in their comfortable-looking hooded robes. Poor Katrine, who
had never been on the sea before, was very much alarmed. She rolled herself up in her cloak,
stretched herself full-length by my side, and was happily soon fast asleep. Our kawass smoked
his pipe in company with the captain above, and an Italian, who had smuggled himself and his
luggage on board in the hurry and darkness, kept aloof with the sailors. The sky was bright