The ship of the Greek and Roman mariner was comparatively rude, both in its build and its rig. The hull was not laid down with the fine lines with which we are so familiar in the competing vessels of England and America, (f2193) and the arrangement of the sails exhibited little of that complicated distribution yet effective combination of mechanical forces which we admire in the East-Indiaman or modern frigate. With the war-ships (f2194) of the ancients we need not here occupy ourselves or the reader: but two peculiarities in the structure of Greek and Roman merchantmen must be carefully noticed; for both of them are much concerned in the seamanship described in the narrative before us.

The ships of the Greeks and Romans, like those of the early Northmen, (f2195) were not steered by means of a single rudder, but by two paddle-rudders, one on each quarter. Hence "rudders" are mentioned in the plural (f2196) by St. Luke (Act. 27:40) as by Heathen writers; and the fact is made still more palpable by the representations of art, as in the coins of Imperial Rome or the tapestry of Bayeux: nor does the hinged-rudder appear on any of the remains of antiquity till a late period in the Middle Ages. (f2197)

And as this mode of steering is common to the two sources, from which we must trace our present art of ship-building, so also is the same mode of rigging characteristic of the ships both of the North Sea and the Mediterranean. (f2198) We find in these ancient ships one large mast, with strong ropes rove through a block at the mast-head, and one large sail, fastened to an enormous yard. (f2199) We shall see the importance of attending to this arrangement when we enter upon the incidents of St. Paul’s voyage (Act. 27:17, 19). One consequence was, that instead of the strain being distributed over the hull, as in a modern ship, it was concentrated upon a smaller portion of it: and thus in ancient times there must have been a greater tendency to leakage than at present; (f2200) and we have the testimony of ancient writers to the fact, that a vast proportion of the vessels lost were by foundering. Thus Virgil, (f2201) whose descriptions of everything which relates to the sea are peculiarly exact, speaks of the ships in the fleet of AEneas as lost in various ways, some on rocks, and some on quicksands, but "all with fastenings loosened;" and Josephus relates that the ship from which he so narrowly escaped foundered (f2202) in "Adria," and that he and his companions saved themselves by swimming (f2203) through the night, — an escape which found its parallel in the experience of the Apostle, who in one of those shipwrecks, of which no particular narration has been given to us, was "a night and a day in the deep" (2Co. 11:25). The same danger was apprehended in the ship of Jonah, from which "they cast forth the wares that were in the ship into the sea to lighten it" (Jon. 1:5); as well as in the ship of St. Paul, from which, after having "lightened" it the first day, they "cast out the tackling" on the second day, and finally "threw out the cargo of wheat into the sea" (Act. 27:18, 19, 38).

This leads us to notice what may be called a third peculiarity of the appointments of ancient ships, as compared with those of modern times. In consequence of the extreme danger to which they were exposed from leaking, it was customary to take to sea, as part of their ordinary gear, "undergirders" (upozwmata), which were simply ropes for passing round the hull of the ship, and thus preventing the planks from starting. (f2204) One of the most remarkable proofs of the truth of this statement is to be found in the inscribed marbles dug up within the last twenty years at the Piraeus, which give us an inventory of the Attic fleet in its flourishing period; (f2205) as one of the most remarkable accounts of the application of these artificial "helps" (Act. 27:17) in a storm is to be found in the narrative before us.

If these differences between ancient ships and our own are borne in mind, the problems of early seamanship in the Mediterranean are nearly reduced to those with which the modern navigator has to deal in the same seas. The practical questions which remain to be asked are these, What were the dimensions of ancient ships? how near the wind could they sail? and, with a fair wind, at what rate?

As regards the first of these questions, there seems no reason why we should suppose the old trading-vessels of the Mediterranean to be much smaller than our own. We may rest this conclusion both on the character of the cargoes with which they were freighted, (f2206) and on the number of persons we know them to have sometimes conveyed. Though the great ship of Ptolemy Philadelphus (f2207) may justly be regarded as built for ostentation rather than for use, the Alexandrian vessel which forms the subject of one of Lucian’s dialogues, (f2208) and is described as driven by stress of weather into the Piraeus, furnishes us with satisfactory data for the calculation of the tonnage of ancient ships. Two hundred and seventy-six souls (f2209) were on board the ship in which St. Paul was wrecked (Act. 27:37), and the "Castor and Pollux" conveyed them, in addition to her own crew, from Malta to Puteoli (Act. 28:11); while Josephus informs us (f2210) that there were six hundred on board the ship from which he, with about eighty others, escaped. Such considerations lead us to suppose that the burden of many ancient merchantmen may have been from five hundred to a thousand tons.

A second question, of greater consequence in reference to the present subject, relates to the angle which the course of an ancient ship could be made to assume with the direction of the wind, or, to use the language (f2211) of English sailors (who divide the compass into thirty-two points), within how many points of the wind she would sail. That ancient vessels could not work to windward is one of the popular mistakes (f2212) which need not he refuted. They doubtless took advantage of the Etesian winds, (f2213) just as the traders in the Eastern Archipelago sail with the monsoons: but those who were accustomed to a seafaring life could not avoid discovering that a ship’s course can be made to assume a less angle than a right angle with the direction of the wind, or, in other words, that she can be made to sail within less than eight points of the wind:(f2214) and Pliny distinctly says, that it is possible for a ship to sail on contrary tacks. (f2215) The limits of this possibility depend upon the character of the vessel and the violence of the gale. We shall find, below, that the vessel in which St. Paul was wrecked "could not look at the wind," — for so the Greek word (Act. 27:15) may be literally translated in the language of English sailors, — though with a less violent gale an English ship, well managed, could easily have kept her course. A modern merchantman, in moderate weather, can sail within six points of the wind. In an ancient vessel the yard could not be braced so sharp, and the hull was more clumsy; and it would not be safe to say that (f2216) she could sail nearer the wind than within seven points.

To turn now to the third question, the rate of sailing, — the very nature of the rig, which was less adapted than our own for working to windward, was peculiarly favorable to a quick run before the wind. In the China seas, during the monsoons, junks have been seen from the deck of a British vessel behind in the horizon in the morning, and before in the horizon in the evening. (f2217) Thus we read of passages accomplished of old in the Mediterranean, which would do credit to a well-appointed modern ship. Pliny, who was himself a seaman, and in command of a fleet at the time of his death, might furnish us with several instances. We might quote the story of the fresh fig, which Cato produced in the senate at Rome, when he urged his countrymen to undertake the third Punic war, by impressing on them the imminent nearness of their enemy. "This fruit," he says, "was gathered fresh at Carthage three days ago." (f2218) Other voyages, which he adduces, are such as these, — seven days from Cadiz to Ostia, — seven days from the straits of Messina to Alexandria, — nine days from Puteoli to Alexandria. These instances are quite in harmony with what we read in other authors. Thus Rhodes and Cape Salmone, at the eastern extremity of Crete, are reckoned by Diodorus and Strabo as four days from Alexandria: Plutarch tells us of a voyage within the day from Brundusium to Corcyra: Procopius describes Belisarius as sailing on one day with his fleet from Malta, and landing on the next day some leagues to the south of Carthage. (f2219) A thousand stades (or between 100 and 150 miles) is reckoned by the geographers a common distance to accomplish in the twenty-four hours. (f2220) And the conclusion to which we are brought is, that with a fair wind an ancient merchantman would easily sail at the rate of seven knots an hour, — a conclusion in complete harmony both with what we have observed in a former voyage of St. Paul (Ch. 20.), and with what will demand our attention at the close of that voyage which brought him at length from Malta by Rhegium to Puteoli (Act. 28:13).

The remarks which have been made will convey to the reader a sufficient notion of the ships and navigation of the ancients. If to the above-mentioned peculiarities of build and rig we add the eye painted at the prow, the conventional ornaments at stem and stern, which are familiar to us in remaining works of art, (f2221) and the characteristic figures of Heathen divinities, (f2222) we shall gain a sufficient idea of an ancient merchantman. And a glance at the chart of the Mediterranean will enable us to realize in our imagination the nature of the voyages that were most frequent in the ancient world. With the same view of elucidating the details of our subject beforehand, we may now devote a short space to the prevalent lines of traffic, and to the opportunities of travelers by sea, in the first century of the Christian era.

Though the Romans had no natural love for the sea, and though a commercial life was never regarded by them as an honorable occupation, and thus both experience of practical seamanship and the business of the carrying-trade remained in a great measure with the Greeks, yet a vast development had been given to commerce by the consolidation of the Roman Empire. Piracy had been effectually put down before the close of the Republic. (f2223) The annexation of Egypt drew towards Italy the rich trade of the Indian seas. After the effectual reduction of Gaul and Spain, Roman soldiers and Roman slave-dealers (f2224) invaded the shores of Britain. The trade of all the countries which surrounded the Mediterranean began to flow towards Rome. The great city herself was passive, for she had nothing to export. But the cravings of her luxury, and the necessities of her vast population, drew to one center the converging lines of a busy traffic from a wide extent of provinces. To leave out of view what hardly concerns us here, the commerce by land from the North, (f2225) some of the principal directions of trade by sea may be briefly enumerated as follows. The harbors of Ostia and Puteoli were constantly full of ships from the West, which had brought wool and other articles from Cadiz:(f2226) a circumstance which possesses some interest for us here, as illustrating the mode in which St. Paul might hope to accomplish his voyage to Spain (Rom. 15:24). On the South was Sicily, often called the Store-house of Italy, — and Africa, which sent furniture-woods to Rome, and heavy cargoes of marble and granite. On the East, Asia Minor was the intermediate space through which the caravan-trade (f2227) passed, conveying silks and spices from beyond the Euphrates to the markets and wharves of Ephesus. We might extend this enumeration by alluding to the fisheries of the Black Sea, and the wine-trade of the Archipelago. But enough has been said to give some notion of the commercial activity of which Italy was the center: and our particular attention here is required only to one branch of trade, one line of constant traffic across the waters of the Mediterranean to Rome.

Alexandria has been mentioned already as a city, which, next after Athens, exerted the strongest intellectual influence over the age in which St. Paul’s appointed work was done; and we have had occasion to notice some indirect connection between this city and the Apostle’s own labors. (f2228) But it was eminent commercially not less than intellectually. The prophetic views of Alexander were at that time receiving an ampler fullfillment than at any former period. The trade with the Indian seas, which had been encouraged under the Ptolemies, received a vast impulse in the reign of Augustus: and under the reigns of his successors, the valley of the Nile was the channel of an active transit trade in spices, dyes, jewels, and perfumes, which were brought by Arabian mariners from the far East, and poured into the markets of Italy. (f2229) But Egypt was not only the medium of transit trade. She had her own manufactures of linen, paper, and glass, which she exported in large quantities. And one natural product of her soil has been a staple commodity from the time of Pharaoh to our own. "We have only to think of the fertilizing inundations of the Nile, on the one hand, and, on the other, of the multitudes composing the free and slave population of Italy, in order to comprehend the activity and importance of the Alexandrian corn-trade. At a later period the Emperor Commodus established a company of merchants to convey the supplies from Egypt to Rome; and the commendations which he gave himself for this forethought may still be read in the inscription round the ships represented on his coins. (f2230) The harbor to which the Egyptian corn-vessels were usually bound was Puteoli. At the close of this chapter we shall refer to some passages which give an animated picture of the arrival of these ships. Meanwhile, it is well to have called attention to this line of traffic between Alexandria and Puteoli; for in so doing we have described the means which Divine Providence employed for bringing the Apostle to Rome.

The transition is easy from the commerce of the Mediterranean to the progress of travelers from point to point in that sea. If to this enumeration of the main lines of traffic by sea we add all the ramifications of the coasting-trade which depended on them, we have before us a full view of the opportunities which travelers possessed of accomplishing their voyages. Just in this way we have lately seen St. Paul completing the journey, on which his mind was set, from Philippi, by Miletus and Patara, to Caesarea (Ch. 20.). We read of no periodical packets for the conveyance of passengers sailing between the great towns of the Mediterranean. Emperors themselves were usually compelled to take advantage of the same opportunities to which Jewish pilgrims and Christian Apostles were limited. When Vespasian went to Rome, leaving Titus to prosecute the siege of Jerusalem, "he went on board a merchant-ship, and sailed from Alexandria to Rhodes," and thence pursued his way through Greece to the Adriatic, and finally went to Rome through Italy by land. (f2231) And when the Jewish war was ended, and when, suspicions having arisen concerning the allegiance of Titus to Vespasian, the son was anxious "to rejoin his father," he also left Alexandria (f2232) in a "merchant-ship," and "hastened to Italy," touching at the very places at which St. Paul touched, first at Rhegium (Act. 28:13), and then at Puteoli (ib.).

If such was the mode in which even royal personages traveled from the provinces to the metropolis, we must of course conclude that those who traveled on the business of the state must often have been content to avail themselves of similar opportunities. The sending of state prisoners to Rome from various parts of the Empire was an event of frequent occurrence. Thus we are told by Josephus, (f2233) that Felix, "for some slight offence, bound and sent to Rome several priests of his acquaintance, honorable and good men, to answer for themselves to Caesar." Such groups must often have left Caesarea and the other Eastern ports, in merchant-vessels bound for the West; and such was the departure of St. Paul, when the time at length came for that eventful journey, which had been so long and earnestly cherished in his own wishes; ( Rom. 15:23.) so emphatically foretold by divine revelation; (Act. 19:21; 23:11. See Act. 27:24.) and which was destined to involve such great consequences to the whole future of Christianity.

The vessel in which he sailed, with certain other state prisoners, was "a ship of Adramyttium" apparently engaged in the coasting-trade, (f2234) and at that time (probably the end of summer or the beginning of autumn) (f2235) bound on her homeward voyage. Whatever might be the harbors at which she intended to touch, her course lay along the coast of the province of Asia. (f2236) Adramyttium was itself a seaport in Mysia, which (as we have seen) was a subdivision of that province: and we have already described it as situated in the deep gulf which recedes beyond the base of Mount Ida, over against the island of Lesbos, and as connected by good roads with Pergamus and Troas on the coast, and the various marts in the interior of the peninsula. (f2237) Since St. Paul never reached the place, no description of it is required. (f2238) It is only needful to observe that when the vessel reached the coast of "Asia," the travelers would be brought some considerable distance on their way to Rome; and there would be a good prospect of finding some other westward-bound vessel, in which they might complete their voyage, — more especially since the Alexandrian corn-ships (as we shall see) often touched at the harbors in that neighborhood.

St. Paul’s two companions — besides the soldiers, with Julius their commanding officer, the sailors, the other prisoners, and such occasional passengers as may have taken advantage of this opportunity of leaving Caesarea — were two Christians already familiar to us, Luke the Evangelist, whose name, like that of Timothy, is almost inseparable from the Apostle, and whom we may conclude to have been with him since his arrival in Jerusalem, (f2239) — and "Aristarchus the Macedonian, of Thessalonica," whose native country and native city have been separately mentioned before (Act. 19:29, 20:4), and who seems, from the manner in which he is spoken of in the Epistles written from Rome (Phm. 1:24, Col. 4:10), to have been, like St. Paul himself, a prisoner in the cause of the Gospel.

On the day after sailing from Caesarea the vessel put into Sidon (v. 3). This may be readily accounted for, by supposing that she touched there for the purposes of trade, or to land some passengers. Or another hypothesis is equally allowable. Westerly and north-westerly winds prevail in the Levant at the end of summer and the beginning of autumn; (f2240) and we find that it did actually blow from these quarters soon afterwards, in the course of St. Paul’s voyage. Such a wind would be sufficiently fair for a passage to Sidon: and the seamen might proceed to that port in the hope of the weather becoming more favorable, and be detained there by the wind continuing in the same quarter. (f2241) The passage from Caesarea to Sidon is sixty-seven miles, a distance easily accomplished, under favorable circumstances, in less than twenty-four hours. In the course of the night they would pass by Ptolemais and Tyre, where St. Paul had visited the Christians two years before. (f2242) Sidon is the last city on the Phoenician shore in which the Apostle’s presence can be traced. It is a city associated, from the earliest times, with patriarchal and Jewish history. The limit of "the border of the Canaanites" in the description of the peopling of the earth after the Flood (Gen. 10:19), — "the haven of the sea, the haven of ships," in the dim vision of the dying Patriarch (Gen. 49:13), — the "great Sidon" of the wars of Joshua (Jos. 11:8), — the city that never was conquered by the Israelites (Jud. 1:31), — the home of the merchants that "passed over the sea" (Isaiah 23.), — its history was linked with all the annals of the Hebrew race. Nor is it less familiarly known in the records of Heathen antiquity. Its name is celebrated both in the Iliad and the Odyssey, and Herodotus says that its sailors were the most expert of all the Phoenicians. Its strong and massive fortifications were pulled down, when this coast fell under the sway of the Persians; but its harbor remained uninjured till a far later period.

The Prince of the Druses, with whose strange and brilliant career its more recent history is most closely connected, threw masses of stone and earth into the port, in order to protect himself from the Turks:(f2243) — and houses are now standing on the spot where the ships of King Louis anchored in the last Crusade, (f2244) and which was crowded with merchandise in that age, when the geographer of the Roman Empire spoke of Sidon as the best harbor of Phoenicia. (f2245)

Nor is the history of Sidon without a close connection with those years in which Christianity was founded. Not only did its inhabitants, with those of Tyre, follow the footsteps of JESUS, to hear His words, and to be healed of their diseases (Luk. 6:17), but the Son of David Himself visited those coasts, and there rewarded the importunate faith of a Gentile suppliant (Matthew 15., Mark 7.); and soon the prophecy which lay, as it were, involved in this miracle, was fulfilled by the preaching of Evangelists and Apostles. Those who had been converted during the dispersion which followed the martyrdom of Stephen were presently visited by Barnabas and Saul (Acts 11.). Again, Paul with Barnabas passed through these cities on their return from the first victorious journey among the Gentiles (Act. 15:3). Nor were these the only journeys which the Apostle had taken through Phoenicia; (f2246) so that he well knew, on his arrival from Caesarea, that Christian brethren were to be found in Sidon. He, doubtless, told Julius that he had "friends" there, whom he wished to visit, and, either from special commands which had been given by Festus in favor of St. Paul, or through an influence which the Apostle had already gained over the centurion’s mind, the desired permission was granted. If we bear in our remembrance that St. Paul’s health was naturally delicate, and that he must have suffered much during his long detention at Caesarea, a new interest is given to the touching incident, with which the narrative of this voyage opens, that the Roman officer treated this one prisoner "courteously, and gave him liberty to go unto his friends to refresh himself." We have already considered the military position of this centurion, and seen that there are good grounds for identifying him with an officer mentioned by a Heathen historian. (f2247) It gives an additional pleasure to such investigations, when we can record our grateful recollection of kindness shown by him to that Apostle, from whom we have received our chief knowledge of the Gospel.

On going to sea from Sidon, the wind was unfavorable. Hence, whatever the weather had been before, it certainly blew from the westward now. The direct course from Sidon to the "coasts of Asia" would have been to the southward of Cyprus, across the sea over which the Apostle had sailed so prosperously two years before. (f2248) Thus when St. Luke says that "they sailed under the lee (f2249) of Cyprus, because the winds were contrary" he means that they sailed to the north-east and north of the island. If there were any doubt concerning his meaning, it would be made clear by what is said afterwards, that they "sailed through (f2250) the sea which is over against Gilicia and Pamphylia." The reasons why this course was taken will be easily understood by those who have navigated those seas in modern times. By standing to the north, the vessel would fall in with the current which sets in a north-westerly direction past the eastern extremity of Cyprus, and then westerly along the southern coast of Asia Minor, till it is lost at the opening of the Archipelago. (f2251) And besides this, as the land was neared, the wind would draw off the shore, and the water would be smoother; and both these advantages would aid the progress of the vessel. (f2252) Hence she would easily work to windward, (f2253) under the mountains of Cilicia, and through the bay of Pamphylia, — to Lycia, which was the first district in the province of Asia. (f2254) Thus we follow the Apostle once more across the sea over which he had first sailed with Barnabas from Antioch to Salamis, — and within sight of the summits of Taurus, which rise above his native city, — and close by Perga and Attaleia, — till he came to a Lycian harbor not far from Patara, the last point at which he had touched on his return from the third missionary journey.

The Lycian harbor, in which the Adramyttian ship came to anchor on this occasion, after her voyage from Sidon, was Myra, a city which has been fully illustrated by some of those travelers, whose researches have, within these few years, for the first time provided materials for a detailed geographical commentary on the Acts of the Apostles. (f2255) Its situation was at the opening of a long and wonderful gorge, which conducts the traveler from the interior of the mountain-region of Lycia to the sea. (f2256) A wide space of plain intervened between the city and the port. Strabo says that the distance was twenty stadia, or more than two miles. (f2257) If we draw a natural inference from the magnitude of the theatre, (f2258) which remains at the base of the cliffs, and the traces of ruins to some distance across the plain, we should conclude that Myra once held a considerable population: while the Lycian tombs, still conspicuous in the rocks, seem to connect it with a remote period of Asiatic history. (f2259) We trace it, on the other hand, in a later though hardly less obscure period of history: for in the Middle Ages it was called the port of the Adriatic, and was visited by Anglo-Saxon travelers. (f2260) This was the period when St. Nicholas, the saint of the modern Greek sailors, — born at Patara, and buried at Myra, — had usurped the honor which those two cities might more naturally have given to the Apostle who anchored in their harbors. (f2261) In the seclusion of the deep gorge of Dembra is a magnificent Byzantine church, (f2262) — probably the cathedral of the diocese, when Myra was the ecclesiastical and political metropolis of Lycia. (f2263) Another building, hardly less conspicuous, is a granary erected by Trajan near the mouth of the little river Andraki. (f2264) This is the ancient Andriace, which Pliny mentions as the port of Myra, and which is described to us by Appian, in bis narrative of the Civil Wars of Rome, as closed and protected by a chain. (f2265)

Andriace, the port of Myra, was one of the many excellent harbors which abound in the south-western part of Asia Minor. From this circumstance, and from the fact that the coast is high, and visible to a great distance, — in addition to the local advantages which we have mentioned above, the westerly current, and the offshore wind, — it was common for ships bound from Egypt to the westward to be found in this neighborhood when the winds were contrary. (f2266) It was therefore a natural occurrence, and one which could have caused no surprise, when the centurion met in the harbor at Myra with an Alexandrian corn-ship on her voyage to Italy (v. 6). Even if business had not brought her to this coast, she was not really out of her track in a harbor in the same meridian as that of her own port. (f2267) It is probable that the same westerly winds which had hindered St. Paul’s progress from Caesarea to Myra had caused the Alexandrian ship to stand to the north.

Thus the expectation was fulfilled which had induced the centurion to place his prisoners on board the vessel of Adramyttium. (f2268) That vessel proceeded on her homeward route up the coast of the AEgean, if the weather permitted; and we now follow the Apostle through a more eventful part of his voyage, in a ship which was probably much larger than those that were simply engaged in the coasting-trade. From the total number of souls on board (v. 37), and the known fact that the Egyptian merchantmen were among the largest in the Mediterranean, (f2269) we conclude that she was a vessel of considerable size. Every thing that relates to her construction is interesting to us, through the minute account which is given of her misfortunes from the moment of her leaving Myra. The weather was unfavorable from the first. They were "many days" before reaching Cnidus (v. 7):and since the distance from Myra to this place is only a hundred and thirty miles, it is certain that they must have sailed "slowly" (ib.). The delay was of course occasioned by one of two causes, — by calms or by contrary winds. There can be no doubt that the latter was the real cause, not only because the sacred narrative states that they reached Cnidus (f2270) "with difficulty" but because we are informed that, when Cnidus was reached, they could not make good their course (f2271) any farther, "the wind not suffering them" (ibid.). At this point they lost the advantages of a favoring current, a weather-shore and smooth water, and were met by all the force of the sea from the westward; and it was judged the most prudent course, instead of contending with a head sea and contrary winds, to run down to the southward, and after rounding Cape Salmone, the easternmost point of Crete, to pursue the voyage under the lee of that island. (f2272)

Knowing, as we do, the consequences which followed this step, we are inclined to blame it as imprudent, unless, indeed, it was absolutely necessary. For while the south coast of Crete was deficient in good harbors, that of Cnidus was excellent, — well sheltered from the north-westerly winds, fully supplied with all kinds of stores, and in every way commodious, if needful, for wintering. (f2273)

And here, according to our custom, we pause again in the narrative, that we may devote a few lines to the history and description of the place. In early times it was the metropolis of the Asiatic Dorians, who worshipped Apollo, their national Deity, on the rugged headland called the Triopian (f2274) promontory (the modern Cape Crio), which juts out beyond the city to the West. From these heights the people of Cnidus saw that engagement between the fleets of Pisander and Conon, which resulted in the maritime supremacy of Athens. (f2275) To the north-west is seen the island of Cos (p. 604); to the southeast, across a wider reach of sea, is the larger island of Rhodes (p. 606), with which, in their weaker and more voluptuous days, (f2276) Cnidus was united in alliance with Rome, at the beginning of the struggle between Italy and the East. (f2277) The position of the city of Cnidus is to the east of the Triopian headland, where a narrow isthmus unites the promontory with the continent,, and separates the two harbors which Strabo has described. (f2278)

"Few places bear more incontestable proofs of former magnificence; and fewer still of the ruffian industry of their destroyers. The whole area of the city is one promiscuous mass of ruins; among which may be traced streets and gateways, porticoes and theatres." (f2279)

But the remains which are the most worthy to arrest our attention are those of the harbors; not only because Cnidus was a city peculiarly associated with maritime enterprise, (f2280) but because these remains have been less obliterated by violence or decay. "The smallest harbor has a narrow entrance between high piers, and was evidently the closed basin for triremes, which Strabo mentions." But it was the southern and larger port which lay in St. Paul’s course from Myra, and in which the Alexandrian ship must necessarily have come to anchor, if she had touched at Cnidus.

"This port is formed by two transzerse moles; these noble works were carried into the sea to a depth of nearly a hundred feet; one of them is almost perfect; the other, which is more exposed to the south-west swell, can only be seen under water." (f2281)

And we may conclude our description by quoting from another traveler, who speaks of "the remains of an ancient quay on the S. W., supported by Clycopean walls, and in some places cut out of the steep limestone rocks, which rise abruptly from the water’s edge." (f2282)

This excellent harbor, then, from choice or from necessity, was left behind by the seamen of the Alexandrian vessel. Instead of putting back there for shelter, they yielded to the expectation of being able to pursue their voyage under the lee of Crete, and ran down to Cape Salmone: after rounding which, the same "difficulty" would indeed recur (v. 8), but still with the advantage of a weather-shore. The statements at this particular point of St. Luke’s narrative enable us to ascertain, with singular minuteness, the direction of the wind: and it is deeply interesting to observe how this direction, once ascertained, harmonizes all the inferences which we should naturally draw from other parts of the context. But the argument has been so well stated by the first writer who has called attention to this question, that we will present it in his words rather than our own. (f2283)

"The course of a ship on her voyage from Myra to Italy, after she has reached Cnidus, is by the north side of Crete, through the Archipelago, W. by S. Hence a ship which can make good a course of less than seven points from the wind would not have been prevented from proceeding on her course, unless the wind had been to the west of N. N. W. But we are told that she ‘ran under Crete, over against Salmone,’ which implies that she was able to fetch that cape, which bears about S. W. by S. from Cnidus; but, unless the wind had been to the north of W. N. W., she could not have done so. The middle point between N. N. W. and W.N.W. is north-west, which cannot be more than two points, and is probably not more than one, from the true direction. The wind, therefore, would in common language have been termed northwest." (f2284)

And then the author proceeds to quote, what we have quoted elsewhere (p. 605, n. 4), a statement from the English Sailing Directions regarding the prevalence of north-westerly winds in these seas during the summer months; and to point out that the statement is in complete harmony with what Pliny says of the Etesian monsoons.

Under these circumstances of weather, a consideration of what has been said above, with the chart of Crete before us, will show that the voyage could have been continued some distance from Cape Salmone under the lee of the island, as it had been from Myra to Cnidus, (f2285) — but that at a certain point (now called Cape Matala), where the coast trends suddenly to the north, and where the full force of the wind and sea from the westward must have been met, this possibility would have ceased once more, as it had ceased at the south-western corner of the Peninsula. At a short distance to the east of Cape Matala is a roadstead, (f2286) which was then called "Fair Havens," and still retains the same name, (f2287) and which the voyagers successfully reached and came to anchor. There seems to have been no town at Fair Havens: but there was a town near it called Lasaea, (f2288) a circumstance which St. Luke mentions (if we may presume to say so), not with any view of fixing the locality of the roadstead, but simply because the fact was impressed on his memory. (f2289) If the vessel was detained long at this anchorage, the sailors must have had frequent intercourse with Lasaea, and the soldiers too might obtain leave to visit it; and possibly also the prisoners, each with a soldier chained to his arm.

We are not informed of the length of the delay at Fair Havens: but before they left the place, a "considerable time" had elapsed since they had sailed from Caesarea (f2290) (v. 9); and they had arrived at that season of the year when it was considered imprudent to try the open sea. This is expressed by St. Luke by saying that "the fast was already past;" a proverbial phrase among the Jews, employed as we should employ the phrase "about Michaelmas," and indicating precisely that period of the year. (f2291) The fast of expiation was on the tenth of Tisri, and corresponded to the close of September or the beginning of October; (Lev. 16:29, 23:27.) and is exactly the time when seafaring is pronounced to be dangerous by Greek and Roman writers. (f2292) It became, then, a very serious matter of consultation whether they should remain at Pair Havens for the winter, or seek some better harbor. St. Paul’s advice was very strongly given that they should remain where they were. He warned them that if they ventured to pursue their voyage, they would meet with violent weather, (f2293) with great injury to the cargo and the ship, and much risk to the lives of those on board. It is sufficient if we trace in this warning rather the natural prudence and judgment of St. Paul than the result of any supernatural revelation: though it is possible that a prophetic power was acting (f2294) in combination with the insight derived from long experience of "perils in the sea" (2Co. 11:26). He addressed such arguments to his fellow-voyagers as would be likely to influence all: the master (f2295) would naturally avoid what might endanger the ship: the owner (f2296) (who was also on board) would be anxious for the cargo: to the centurion and to all, the risk of perilling their lives was a prospect that could not lightly be regarded. That St. Paul was allowed to give advice at all implies that he was already held in a consideration very unusual for a prisoner in the custody of soldiers; and the time came when his words held a commanding sway over the whole crew: yet we cannot be surprised that on this occasion the centurion was more influenced (f2297) by the words of the owner and the master than those of the Apostle. There could be no doubt that their present anchorage was "incommodious to winter in" (v. 12), and the decision of "the majority" was to leave it so soon as the weather should permit.

On the south coast of the island, somewhat farther to the west, was a harbor called Phoenix, (f2298) with which it seems that some of the sailors wove familiar. (f2299) They spoke of it in their conversation during the delay at Fair Havens, and they described it as "looking (f2300) toward the south-west wind and the north-west wind." If they meant to recommend a harbor, into which these winds blew dead on shore, it would appear to have been unsailor-like advice: and we are tempted to examine more closely whether the expression really means what at first sight it appears to mean, and then to inquire further whether we can identify this description with any existing harbor. This might indeed be considered a question of mere curiosity, — since the vessel never reached Phoenix, — and since the description of the place is evidently not that of St. Luke, but of the sailors, whose conversation he heard. (f2301) But every thing has a deep interest for us which tends to elucidate this voyage. And, first, we think there cannot be a doubt, both from the notices in ancient writers and the continuance of ancient names upon the spot, that Phoenix is to be identified with the modern Lutro. (f2302) This is a harbor which is sheltered from the winds above mentioned: and, without entering fully into the discussions which have arisen upon this subject, we give it as our opinion that the difficulty is to be explained, simply by remembering that sailors speak of every thing from their own point of view, and that such a harbor does "look" — from the water towards the land which encloses it — in the direction of "south-west and north-west." (f2303)

With a sudden change of weather, the north-westerly wind ceasing, and a light air springing up from the south, the sanguine sailors "thought that their purpose was already accomplished" (v. 13). They weighed anchor: and the vessel bore round Cape Matala. The distance to this point from Fair Havens is four or five miles: the bearing is W. by S. With a gentle southerly wind she would be able to weather the cape: and then the wind was fair to Phoenix, which was thirty-five miles distant from the cape, and bore from thence about W. N. W. The sailors already saw the high land above Lutro, and were proceeding in high spirits, — perhaps with fair-weather sails set, (f2304) — certainly with the boat towing astern, (f2305) — forgetful of past difficulties, and blind to impending dangers.

The change in the fortunes of these mariners came without a moment’s warning. (f2306) Soon after weathering Cape Matala, and while they were pursuing their course in full confidence, close by the coast of Crete (f2307) (v. 13), a violent wind came down (f2308) from the mountains, and struck the ship (seizing her, according to the Greek expression, and whirling her round), so that it was impossible for the helmsman to make her keep her course. (f2309) The character of the wind is described in terms expressive of the utmost violence. It came with all the appearance of a hurricane:(f2310) and the name "Euroclydon," which was given to it by the sailors, indicates the commotion in the sea which presently resulted. (f2311) The consequence was, that, in the first instance, they were compelled to scud before the gale. (f2312)

If we wish to understand the events which followed, it is of the utmost consequence that we should ascertain, in the first place, the direction of this gale. Though there is a great weight of opinion in favor of the reading Euroaquilo, in place of Euroclydon, (f2313) — a view which would determine, on critical grounds, that the wind was E. N. E., — we need not consider ourselves compelled to yield absolutely to this authority: and the mere context of the narrative enables us to determine the question with great exactitude. The wind came down from the island and drove the "vessel off the island: whence it is evident that it could not have been southerly. (f2314) If we consider further that the wind struck the vessel when she was not far (f2315) from Cape Matala (v. 14), — that it drove her towards Clauda (f2316) (v. 16), which is an island about twenty miles to the S. W. of that point, — and that the sailors "feared" lest it should drive them into the Syrtis (f2317) on the African coast (v. 17), — all which facts are mentioned in rapid succession, — an inspection of the chart will suffice to show us that the point from which the storm came must have been N. E., or rather to the East of N. E., — and thus we may safely speak of it as coming from the E. N. E. (f2318)

We proceed now to inquire what was done with the vessel under these perilous circumstances. She was compelled at first (as we have seen) to scud before the gale. But three things are mentioned in close connection with her coming near to Clauda, and running under the lee of it. (f2319) Here they would have the advantage of a temporary lull and of comparatively smooth water for a few miles:(f2320) and the most urgent necessity was attended to first. The boat was hoisted on board: but after towing so long, it must have been nearly filled with water: and under any circumstances the hoisting of a boat on board in a gale of wind is a work accomplished "with difficulty." So it was in this instance, as St. Luke informs us. To effect it at all, it would be necessary for the vessel to be rounded to, with her head brought towards the wind; (f2321) a circumstance which, for other reasons (as we shall see presently), it is important to bear in mind. The next precaution that was adopted betrays an apprehension lest the vessel should spring a leak, and so be in danger of foundering at sea. (f2322) They used the tackling, which we have described above, and which provided "helps" in such an emergency. They "undergirded" the ship with ropes passed round her frame and tightly secured on deck. (f2323) And after this, or rather simultaneously (for, as there were many hands on board, these operations might all be proceeding together), they "lowered the gear." This is the most literal translation of the Greek expression. (f2324) In itself it is indeterminate: but it doubtless implies careful preparation for weathering out the storm. What precise change was made we are not able to determine, in our ignorance of the exact state of the ship’s gear at the moment. (f2325) It might mean that the mainsail was reefed and set; or that the great yard (f2326) was lowered upon deck and a small storm-sail hoisted. It is certain that what English seamen call the top-hamper (f2327) would be sent down on deck. As to those fair-weather sails themselves, which may have been too hastily used on leaving Fair Havens, if not taken in at the beginning of the gale, they must have been already blown to pieces.

But the mention of one particular apprehension, as the motive of this last precaution, informs us of something further. It was because they feared lest they "should be driven into the Syrtis" that they "lowered the gear." Now, to avoid this danger, the head of the vessel must necessarily have been turned away from the African coast, in the direction (more or less) from which the wind came. To have scudded before the gale under bare poles, or under storm-sails, would infallibly have stranded them in the Syrtis, — not to mention the danger of pooping, or being swamped by the sea breaking over her stern. To have anchored was evidently impossible. Only one other course remained: and this was what is technically called by sailors lying to. To effect this arrangement, the head of the vessel is brought as near to the wind as possible: a small amount of canvas is set, and so adjusted as to prevent the vessel from falling off into the trough of the sea. (f2328) This plan (as is well known to all who have made long voyages) is constantly resorted to when the object is not so much to make progress as to weather out a gale.

We are here brought to the critical point of the whole nautical difficulty in the narrative of St. Paul’s voyage and shipwreck, and it is desirable to notice very carefully both the ship’s position in reference to the wind and its consequent motion through the water. Assuming that the vessel was laid to, the questions to be answered in reference to its position are these: How near the wind did she lie? and which side did she present to the wind? The first question is answered in some degree by a reference to what was said in the early part of this chapter. (f2329) If an ancient merchantman could go ahead in moderate weather, when within seven points of the wind, we may assume that she would make about the same angle with it when lying to in a gale. (f2330) The second question would be practically determined by the circumstances of the case and the judgment of the sailors. It will be seen very clearly by what follows, that, if the ship had been laid to with her left or port side to the wind, she must have drifted far out of her course, and also in the direction of another part of the African coast. In order to make sure of sea-room, and at the same time to drift to the westward, she must have been laid to with her right side to the wind, or on the starboard tack, — the position which she was probably made to assume at the moment of taking the boat on board. (f2331)

We have hitherto considered only the ship’s position in reference to the wind. We must now consider its motion. When a vessel is laid to, she does not remain stationary, but drifts; and our inquiries of course have reference to the rate and direction of the drift. The rate of drift may vary, within certain limits, according to the build of the vessel and the intensity of the gale; but all seamen would agree, that, under the circumstances before us, a mile and a half in the hour, or thirty-six miles in twenty-four hours, may be taken as a fair average. (f2332) The direction in which she drifts is not that in which she appears to sail, or towards which her bows are turned: but she falls off to leeward: and to the angle formed by the line of the ship’s keel and the line in which the wind blows we must add another, to include what the sailors call lee-way:(f2333) and this may be estimated on an average at six points (67°). Thus we come to the conclusion that the direction of drift would make an angle of thirteen points (147°) with the direction of the wind. If the wind was E. N. E., the course of the vessel would be W. by N. (f2334)

We have been minute in describing the circumstances of the ship at this moment; for it is the point upon which all our subsequent conclusions must turn. (f2335) Assuming now that the vessel was, as we have said, laid to on the larboard tack, with the boat on board and the hull under-girded, drifting from Clauda in a direction W. by N. at the rate of thirty-six miles in twenty-four hours, we pursue the narrative of the voyage, without anticipating the results to which we shall be brought. The more marked incidents of the second and third days of the gale are related to us (vv. 18, 19). The violence of the storm continued without any intermission. (f2336) On "the day after" they left Clauda, "they proceeded to lighten (f2337) the ship" by throwing overboard whatever could be most easily spared. From this we should infer that the precaution of undergirding had been only partially successful, and that the vessel had already sprung a leak. This is made still more probable by what occurred on the "third day." Both sailors and passengers united (f2338) in throwing out all the "spare gear" into the sea. (f2339) Then followed "several days" of continued hardship and anxiety. (f2340) No one who has never been in a leaking ship in a continued gale (f2341) can know what is suffered under such circumstances. The strain both of mind and body — the incessant demand for the labor of all the crew — the terror of the passengers — the hopeless working at the pumps — the laboring of the ship’s frame and cordage — the driving of the storm — the benumbing effect of the cold and wet — make up a scene of no ordinary confusion, anxiety, and fatigue.

But in the present case these evils were much aggravated by the continued overclouding of the sky (a circumstance not unusual during a Levanter), which prevented the navigators from taking the necessary observations of the heavenly bodies. In a modern ship, however dark the weather might be, there would always be a light in the binnacle, and the ship’s course would always be known; but in an ancient vessel, "when neither sun nor stars were seen for many days," the case would be far more hopeless. It was impossible to know how near they might be to the most dangerous coast. And yet the worst danger was that which arose from the leaky state of the vessel. This was so bad, that at length they gave up all hope of being saved, thinking that nothing could prevent her foundering. (f2342) To this despair was added a further suffering from want of food, (f2343) in consequence of the injury done to the provisions, and the impossibility of preparing any regular meal. Hence we see the force of the phrase (f2344) which alludes to what a casual reader might suppose an unimportant part of the suffering, the fact that there was "much abstinence." It was in this time of utter weariness and despair that to the Apostle there rose up "light in the darkness:" and that light was made the means of encouraging and saving the rest. While the Heathen sailors were vainly struggling to subdue the leak, Paul was praying; and God granted to him the lives of all who sailed with him. A vision was vouchsafed to him in the night, as formerly, when he was on the eve of conveying the Gospel from Asia to Europe, and more recently in the midst of those harassing events, which resulted in his voyage from Jerusalem to Rome. When the cheerless day came, he gathered the sailors round him (f2345) on the deck of the laboring vessel, and, raising his voice above the storm, said,

See Notes on Act. 27:21-26.