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National Geographic : 1967 Jun
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25 feet on deck, that proved much more than a station wagon (page 803). The airy cabin contained a galley with sink, icebox, and stove. Opposite were a head and hanging locker for shore clothes. A folding table served for dining and as a typing desk, then conveniently dropped to become part of a comfortable berth. Awnings converted the after cockpit to a back porch. Twin 120 Mer cruiser outboard-drive engines would carry me far and fast when the sea lay like a mirror, and get me safely back to port when a sudden mistral blew. Mediterranean Reflects Boating Explosion Swinging toward the old port of Marseille, reserved for fishing boats and yachts, I round ed a medieval fortress and stared in amaze ment. Yachts beyond count, power and sail, rimmed the quay; the boating explosion had reached the Mediterranean too. Like a sardine looking for room in a can already packed, I circled until a sign pro claimed Accueil Etrangers, "Welcome Stran gers." Backing into an empty slip, I congratu lated myself on having no sails to furl. Docking seemed as easy as parking a car, until I became aware of a torrent of French words spouting from a gesticulating character on the quay. Luckily I knew the local idiom: "Not that way, monsieur! Haul out your bow with a buoy." I had neglected to follow the traditional Mediterranean method of mooring, bow an chored toward the center of a harbor by a buoy, stern tied to the quay. Now I hauled in the buoy to reach the anchor chain attached beneath it. With every link the rusty chain grew heavier and the harbor master more voluble, while mud oozed between my fingers and onto the deck. Finally making fast, I straightened to meet the grin of an Irishman on a small cutter moored alongside. "Never you mind a bit o' muck on the deck, Yank," he consoled. "In that lot is twenty-five centuries of seafaring history." As I swabbed down, Tom Galloway and I talked of the city's beginnings. About 600 B.C., roving Greek galleys under a young captain named Protis entered what is now Marseille harbor. Then it was a creek surrounded by forests. Legend says the Greeks arrived the day the local chief gave a banquet for warriors seeking the hand of his daughter, Gyptis. After the feast Gyptis entered, carrying a goblet of wine; the man to whom she offered a drink would be the man of her choice. A handsome Greek caught her eye. She stopped, they looked at each other, and she proffered Protis the symbolic cup. He drank, and they were married. The dowry of Gyptis was the land around the creek, and under Protis and his successors it became the Greek seaport and trading cen ter of Massalia. The first link between the civilizations around the eastern Mediterra nean and the forest-dwelling barbarians of Gaul, Marseille is the oldest city of France. It was old when Julius Caesar and Pompey 800
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