Finding Ithaka

by Anna Harvey

  The bard now was extolling Odysseus’ qualities: his god-like appearance, his physical prowess, his noble countenance and how he could better any man in the athletic games so that even the young princess had fallen in love with him. Clearly the bard was expecting a good supper and generous reward for his efforts. Bawdy laughter rang out from the table.

  “You are one for the women, Odysseus,” one of his guests exclaimed.

  “Perhaps that hospitality was too comfortable for you seemed in no hurry to return,” shouted out another to raucous laughter.

  Suddenly he felt ill at ease and awkward, sitting beside his honourable and steadfast wife. It was true that discovering his true identity, Alkinoos had offered him the hand of his daughter. He had graciously declined thinking only of his return. Nevertheless he had been accorded the full honours of guest friendship and provided with passage on a boat to take him at last to his journey’s end, Ithaka.

  The bard had now finished his song and the fellow guests roared out their approval, thumping the tables and calling out his name “Odysseus”. The raucous sound filled the high beamed hall. But he still felt troubled in the knowledge he had not been faithful to his lawful wife and by all those years he had deserted her. He quickly glanced at Penelope besides him, trying to make out her reaction. Nothing could be discerned in her expression. There Penelope sat dignified and composed, no outward display of sentiment betraying her thoughts.

  Chapter 16

  Pascha

  It was still quite early in the morning when Thea descended the staircase into the hotel lobby. Sunlight was flooding through the large bay windows, holding the promise of a warm spring day with a clear azure sky.

  “Someone’s got an admirer, I see,” said Electra conspiratorially, as Thea handed over her room key. “Such beautiful roses that arrived for you yesterday! I think someone likes you very much.” Thea blushed thinking of the extravagant pink bouquet in the modest surroundings of her room. “And what’s that I see?” Electra had noticed the flash of gold on Thea’s finger, her eye drawn to the metal like a magpie. “Let me see!” Thea reluctantly volunteered her hand for Electra to inspect. “Very expensive!” Electra gasped excitedly as she examined the embossed gold ring on Thea’s slender finger. “I think this admirer is very rich too!” With a slight nod, Thea accepted Electra’s approval, trying to cover up her awkwardness. These outward extravagant displays by Dimitri were obviously being noticed and not just by her.

  Across at the hotel entrance, Thea found Matthew looking pensive and pre-occupied. His face lit up at her approach and he greeted her with an open smile. Almost regretfully Thea noted he was alone.

  “How are things?” she asked, noting the dark shadows underscoring Matthew’s eyes. “You look tired.”

  “It’s been a tough week,” he admitted. “Rob and I have had a few late nights working to catch up on the analysis. Hopefully today will be more relaxed,” he said buoyantly forcing a grin. “Certainly it will be good to escape the lab for the day.”

  “Is Rob not joining us?” Thea asked, her eyes circling the foyer, puzzled by his absence.

  “He’s on his way down.” Matthew looked around furtively and lowered his voice. “I have to warn you,” he began, “Rob’s not in a good mood.” Thea had wanted to press him more, but at that precise moment Rob’s familiar figure appeared. He was dressed in cargo shorts and a bright close-fitting shirt, presumably local purchases, which emphasised the strong muscles of his shoulders and arms. But the relaxed casual clothes did not mirror Rob’s expression and the scowl planted on his face. He gave Thea the briefest of acknowledgements, before striding out of the hotel. It wasn’t a good sign for the day and already Thea’s initial enthusiasm had evaporated.

  “Enjoy your day,” Electra called out after them, as Thea and Matthew followed Rob’s receding figure through the wide glass doors.

  It had been Mark who had proposed a team barbecue on one of the southern beaches on Paliki to celebrate Greek Easter, Pascha. It had seemed a good idea at the time, especially as the Greeks took the occasion very seriously and everything closed down to celebrate the holy day. Thea had come prepared for a rough hike, picking out a jade shirt and shorts to go with her sturdy walking boots. Into her rucksack, she had stuffed some beach items as a concession to the public holiday: a towel, a book, sunscreen and sunglasses. In her hand, she clutched the cardboard box, containing baklava pastries, which the assistant from her favourite bakery had decorated with a purple ribbon.

  In the taxi, Matthew was first to break the awkward silence.

  “So I understand we are making a detour before we arrive at the beach.”

  “Yes. I hope that’s ok,” replied Thea lightly. “Mr Kampitsis very kindly offered transport to take us over to the small island in the middle of the bay. It’s called Vardianoi, meaning “Protector”, as it guards the entrance to the gulf. I’m keen to visit it but it’s only accessible by boat.” She noticed again Rob’s deafening silence as he sat in the front seat, his broad shoulders stiff and upright. The cold atmosphere was starting to dampen her mood.

  “Does it have any significance?” Matthew enquired happy to continue the conversation.

  “Of course. Homer mentions an island situated between Ithaka and Same, the old name for Kefalonia. It’s here the suitors of Penelope dispatch a ship to ambush Odysseus’ son Telemachos, after he journeys to the mainland for news of his father. By then, the kingdom is in a terrible state and the suitors are threatening to depose Telemachos as his father’s heir,” Thea explained. They all lurched forward as the car hit a pothole in the road. “I’m hoping that Vardianoi will provide more geographical evidence that Paliki is our Ithaka.”

  “And what happens to the son?” asked Matthew, interested. “Does he survive the ambush?”

  “He has a premonition and instead decides to sail a different way up to one of the northern harbours. So he escapes and returns secretly to Ithaka, where he is reunited with his father.” At these words, Thea noticed Rob throw a glance in her direction. The good humour had vanished, but she had not discerned him as a man of contradictory moods, blowing hot and cold like the wind.

  They were now approaching one of the modern hotels in the resort area of the town. It was still early in the season and the area was only just starting to open up after the winter hibernation. There still were not many foreign visitors about. A speedboat was waiting for them at the jetty.

  “Wow! Is that for us? I’ve never travelled this way before?” exclaimed Matthew enthusiastically, clearly impressed.

  “Yes, I think so,” Thea said noticing Rob remained stubbornly silent. She sensed the speedboat was Dimitri’s doing, another display to impress her or at the very least, Stelios had been tasked with the job.

  They were warmly welcomed on board by the skipper and his younger companion. But the atmosphere from the taxi followed them and hung over the speedboat like a dark cloud. It was dispelled by the hum of the motor starting as the boat pulled away from the jetty. Once out of the shelter of the harbour, the boat gained momentum, skimming and bouncing off the waves. They were now heading across the straits to a small island in the bay. As the breeze whipped up around them, Thea held tight to the side of the boat. It was hard to talk above the noise of the engine, the sea spray and gusts of wind.

  The island quickly came into view and the stump of the old lighthouse, standing castrated on its plinth of concrete. Thea could feel her excitement rising, as she scanned the shoreline, tempered by growing nausea from the boat ride. There was no immediate sign of what she was seeking, only large boulders and rugged rocks.

  The sound of the motor engine quietened as the boat now approached its destination, a small half moon bay, and with relief, Thea took in the white sand against the clay edge. So there was at least one beach, where a ship could be brought aground.

  “So what exactly are we looking for?” asked Matthew, surveying the flat barren land.

  “A second harbour,” Thea repli
ed, shielding her face from the dazzling sunlight with her hand. “The Odyssey describes the island as having two harbours. This one here is ideal for the Myceneans. They would beach the ships on shore, pulling them up above the water, rather than anchoring them in the bay. We just need to see if there’s a second beach.”

  “This is as far as we can go into shore,” said the skipper, raising his voice over the spluttering engine. An anchor was being dropped with a rumbling noise of metal scrapping against metal. It was hard to discern the Greek words above the din and the gusts of wind. “You will need to wade in from here. We’ll stay on the boat, so let us know when you are ready to leave.”

  “Thank you,” said Thea, starting to remove her boots. “Bring your footwear with you,” she said, casting her glance at Matthew, “unless you are staying on the beach.”

  “Thea, why don’t you use your Greek to ask the skipper if he knows anything?” The sound of Rob’s voice surprised her. It was the first time he had addressed her directly all morning.

  “Thanks for the suggestion.” She glanced up at Rob for a moment, searching for a sign of friendship but only a stony expression greeted her. Their relationship had distinctly soured.

  Thea turned to the skipper, noticing his surprising slight build and slender arms in comparison to other sea-faring Greeks she had encountered. “Do you know if there is another beach here on Vardianoi?” Thea asked, switching again into Greek.

  The skipper hesitated for a moment and then shrugged. “Not that I know of,” he said, throwing his arms back. “The island is surrounded by rocks everywhere except for this bay. But…” he paused, thinking out aloud. “My father worked the boats before. He told me that once the island was larger as they used to come here to hunt rabbits. It’s possible there could have been another beach but it has been taken by the sea.”

  Feeling deflated by his words, Thea tried to enthuse her voice with optimism as she thanked him. Holding her boots aloft, she descended the short rope ladder, gasping as she entered the cold sea. The sand was soft-rippled beneath her feet making it easy to wade to the shore.

  Perfect, she thought, scanning the shoreline, as she stepped onto the dry sand.

  “So you are saying this might be the very spot where the suitors hid for their ambush?” Matthew had come to join her and was standing beside her. Clearly the idea captured his imagination.

  “Precisely.” Thea sat down on a smooth rock and started to dust the gritty sand from her feet, looking round. “On this north side, any boats would be hidden from view from anyone sailing into the gulf from the south. We are looking for somewhere a small ship can be beached. It only needs to be a short visit.” She finished tying the final shoelace of her boot. “I don’t know if this island has any snakes,” she said pausing.” It may be wise to make lots of noise so they scuttle out of the way.” Without a second glance, Thea set off leading the way.

  They clambered over the rocks and detritus to a small jetty, made of decaying planks of wood, nailed together. They climbed up the steep steps using an old rope banister. At the top, a disused chapel from the old monastery came into view. It was here, just above the sandy beach they found a single track, the red earth path picking its way through the scrubland of yellow gorse. From this vantage point, it was obvious the island was flat, treeless and featureless, except for the broken stump of the lighthouse and an old shipwrecked boat in the distance.

  Rob had now caught them up and was quickly outpacing them. After a couple of minutes of trying to keep up his pace, Thea and Matthew both fell into a comfortable walking rhythm. As Rob’s figure receded, it at least gave them a chance to talk.

  “So how have things been going over the last couple of weeks?” Thea asked, trying to fathom Rob’s ill-temper.

  There was a discernible pause before Matthew responded. “Not great. You know that Rob unexpectedly had to leave the island for a couple of days, which threw our schedule.” He adjusted his hat to shield his face from the strong sunlight. “Then we’ve had a series of visitors to the lab which has further disrupted things. First Richard, then Mr Kampitsis himself, both asking to see the ins and outs of our work. Ever since we’ve been hosting regular visits from the Foundation or local dignitaries at Mr Kampitsis’ request. Rob was furious. I don’t think it’s just about being behind schedule. He and our great benefactor just don’t seem to hit it off.”

  “Oh,” Thea replied, taken by surprise. She could imagine Dimitri being excited by any new discovery like a child unwrapping a toy on Christmas morning. It brought to the surface her own recent experiences of Dimitri. Certainly it was clear he had other concerns in addition to herself. But she had an uneasy feeling that Rob’s ill humour was connected to her in some way and perhaps what she had disclosed.

  “Dimitri, I mean Mr Kampitsis,” Thea said correcting herself, “can be very single-minded. But,” she added, steering the conversation into safer territory, “the Foundation must be very pleased with the progress in the lab.”

  “Yes, the results so far are very promising,” Matthew readily agreed. “Rob thinks that it’s way too premature to draw conclusions. He tends to be very territorial about his work and isn’t used to entertaining visitors. But evidence does seem to support Paliki being a separate island. ”

  This was good news but still a part of Thea felt uneasy. “I may have said something out of turn,” she confided, biting her inner lip. “I mentioned to Richard and Mr Kampitsis that you were getting encouraging results. Rob told me in confidence and I’m afraid I may have inadvertently disrupted your work.”

  “Don’t worry Thea,” Matthew said reassuringly. “You’re privileged for Rob to have entrusted you with that information. He must regard you highly.” For a moment, a wave of confusion swept over her, as she tried to reconcile this new information with Rob’s aloofness. The curious mix of indifference but also attentiveness, verging on what exactly she could not say.

  “Has the island always been called Vardianoi?” Matthew asked distracting Thea away from following this line of thinking. They now had a clear view of the southern shoreline.

  “In Homer, it was known as Asteris, meaning like a star.” They now had a clear view of the southern shoreline. “This isn’t looking promising, Matthew,” Thea said, noticing with disappointment the jagged rocky crevices at the water’s edge. It would be impossible to beach a wooden ship here. She felt again doubt creeping over her. Are we looking in the right place, she wondered.

  “Don’t worry Thea,” Matthew reassured her, picking up her tense mood. “If there’s a second harbour on this island, Rob will find it. The man has got a sixth sense when it comes to geology.”

  “You think so?” Thea asked with incredulity. They had now reached the end of the track and the stump of the emasculated lighthouse. From the pile of stone and rubble, it was clear the beacon had once stood taller and prouder, guarding the straits before some earth tremor had toppled it. They were looking southwards over the rocky perimeter of the island towards the hazy mound of Zakynthos that rose up above the sea-line. Some way off Rob was gesticulating towards them. They made their way towards him, scrambling over the ruined debris of the lighthouse.

  “I think I’ve found your second harbour,” declared Rob, when they finally caught up, pointing towards a narrow strip of white sand enclosed by an outcrop of rocks.

  “But how?” asked Thea, not fully taking in his words. “The shoreline here is far too rocky to beach a boat.”

  “That’s true.” A thoughtful expression played on Rob’s face and a lively intelligence behind the slate-blue eyes. “What you’re seeing here isn’t necessarily the original shoreline. Rather with the seismic activity, I think this was originally a beach which became landlocked as the land rose over the last two millennia.” He brushed away an insect, humming around in search of food. “The whole of the ground round here has been lifted up about five metres, equivalent to 20 H-bombs.”

  “So you think this could be the second beach?” Thea
asked, surveying the shore-line. It was difficult to grasp the amount of physical force required to bring about that level of displacement of rock and earth, when everything looked so peaceful and solid.

  “I suspect so. It would need a fuller geographical survey to confirm it and may be one for the future.”

  Thea turned her head upwards to look at him, squinting against the sunlight. “Thanks Rob.” For the first time that morning, Rob returned her glance and smiled back. They walked along the stretch of silver sand, now landlocked, picking their way through the detritus that had been blown in from the sea: traces of old sailing boats, their wooden fixtures broken and splintered across the shore; bits of fishing nets; an old flip-flop; and a cluster of squashed plastic bottles, which had been lost or discarded into the sea. At the end of the beach, they came to the wreck of an old boat marooned on the rocks. The waves had tossed it unceremoniously onto the rocky shoreline, like a matchstick toy. Instead of being submerged in salt water, the stern pointed skywards suspended in clean air.

  “Look!” called out Matthew, pointing at the calico sailcloth. “The sail is still attached to the mast.” He hunkered down beside the wooden skeleton of the boat, where the fallen wooden mast now lay ripped from its fixture. The grey-coloured calico canvas had been shredded like rags, but the carefully tied sail remained trussed in place.

  It was then that Rob appeared to falter. “Are you alright?” asked Thea, noticing his face had taken on a deathly pallor.

  “For a moment, I felt unsteady on my feet,” Rob replied sharply, throwing off her concern. ”Just give me a moment to recover and I’ll be okay. I suspect it’s something I’ve eaten or the boat journey over. I’m not good on water.”