Ocean Parks
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Ocean parks are the best way of getting out to sea. This is where one side of the strait has a deep channel that can be used for ships with ballast and one which is shallow enough so that boats with no ballast will just float away down it. They have been put there by the waves over thousands of years, and they are as regular as clockwork now.
The sea currents around them are very strong so that even if a boat is not going anywhere in particular when it starts off, it is soon carried out far enough to turn around and make its way back to shore again. I think we should call them tidal channels: they are like tides but on land.
The first thing to do is to find out exactly where the tide runs up against the land – how high or low it reaches. Then you need to know exactly what time this happens. It depends on the state of the moon at the moment, but also on whether there are any storms. You cannot always tell which way the current is running because it changes quite often.
If you happen to be unlucky, then the sea will go in a big circle around the end of the channel. That means that all your work has gone wasted. In fact, the whole thing seems to me a hopeless business, unless you can make some kind of instrument to show you where the water will flow.
When we arrived at Cape St Vincent it was late afternoon, and we could see straight away that we had done very well indeed. There was hardly anyone about; we were able to walk right along the cliffs without fear of falling into the sea, though once or twice it looked as if it would be better than walking.
We came to an old ruined fort that was built on the top of a huge rock. The cliff below it was so sheer that I never saw such rocks in my life.
As we climbed up to it the sea came in much closer than usual, but I noticed nothing unusual. We found a small path that led up to the fort itself. When I reached the top I thought that everything was just as before, only a little more crowded than usual.
But when I turned towards the other side of the fort, I suddenly realized that something was wrong there: there seemed to be no wind and almost no wave. Then, when we came down from the fort, we found that a large part of the town had disappeared into the sea.
We went round the harbor looking for survivors and found several families sitting together at the edge of the water waiting to drown. The next morning, after I had made sure that everybody knew what to do, I ordered the fleet to move off immediately.
We took with us the few people who wanted to come with us. They said they did not want to go back to their homes, and I suppose they would rather die on our journey than drown on theirs.
We traveled very fast; the current ran strongly with us, and the waves kept breaking over the bows of the boats so that the men had to keep a sharp lookout in case one of them rolled over. When the tide rose up against us it pulled us along faster than we could travel in the other direction, while at other times the sea became calm and we sailed through it without difficulty.
After many weeks we finally came to a narrow strip of sand where the waves could break against each other without disturbing the bottom. I called everyone to help build a raft that would take us across the sea.
I was surprised by how easy it was to get started with this since I have seen rafts blown away by a single puff of wind. We built the raft very firmly on purpose, knowing that it might have to last for a long time, but I still wonder how it stayed afloat during the night.
The next morning I gave orders for the raft to be towed to a point near land where there is a narrow stretch of sand where we would be able to walk to the other side. We tied it firmly together on land, and then let it loose in the water.
As soon as we were all standing on it, the sea began to rise and it carried us rapidly out to sea. Soon the land behind us got smaller and smaller until it vanished completely in front of us. All at once, a few moments before we hit land, we saw a light on the beach ahead of us.
“Well,” I shouted in triumph, “here we are.” Everyone was happy at having reached this point and we celebrated by eating some biscuits from our stores. The next day I sent men ashore to see what sort of place we were going to land on.
They returned and told me that the coast ahead of us was covered with forests that stretched inland as far as the eye could see. I ordered the raft to be towed to shore and anchored. A few hours later it was taken apart again and carried on foot.
We landed on a sandy slope and followed a winding path upwards for some time until we came to a clearing where we could see the sea lying spread out below us.
It seemed to be a wonderful spot. I decided to build a camp here and leave the ships outside. My men worked hard preparing a house for me; they cleared out part of the forest and cut enough wood to make two large fires. While they were doing this I went up a hill with one of my men.
The view from the top was magnificent and I felt as if I were looking down upon all creation, seeing everything clearly – except the horizon, which lay hidden behind a great distance of sky. The trees were thick on either side of the track and they formed a wall around us on both sides.
The air was fresh and pure and filled with bird calls, which gave added beauty to the scene. It was as if we had come to a place where everything was just as it should be. We walked back slowly towards the camp where my men were busy building another one for me. In time I was given a tent that they had made for me from the material that we had brought with us from England.
***
We were not yet settled when one evening some people from a neighboring village came to ask for protection and asked for the men from our village to join them. Most of us agreed and soon we found ourselves in a group of twenty-eight people.
We moved out to a small island about half a mile from the shore where we were joined by more people. We were all happy with our new lives and felt safe from our enemies, but we missed those we had left behind. We spent much of our time talking about the old days and longing for home; we spoke of our families, especially of our wives and children.
We also spoke of what we thought our fate would be, whether we would ever be allowed to return to the homeland and take up our old ways and occupations again. Our mood was sad and depressed for a long time until suddenly one evening after we had eaten supper, we noticed the moon rising above the sea.
It shone brightly on the water like a silver ball, reflecting its light on every wave. For several days this beautiful sight was repeated; whenever the sky was clear we would look up and see the moon shining down upon us.
We did not speak about this to anyone, because we knew that it was dangerous for strangers to tell others of the presence of strange gods in these parts. But we could not help thinking that this must be a sign that good things were to come – or perhaps even the promise of something better to come.
***
We continued our lives on the island until, almost ten years later, I was told that we would soon have company. One night when we were lying on our mats before the fire, I was listening to the sound of the waves breaking against the shore when suddenly I heard someone calling me.
When I called back I received no reply. I looked around and saw a man standing a little way off, silhouetted by the light coming from our fire. I could see him clearly now, although I had not recognized his voice.
He was tall and thin, with a beard. He wore a cloak over his shoulders which was covered with embroidery. He turned his face away, then came closer to me and said in a loud whisper:
“The time has come. You know who I am?”
I shook my head and tried to hide my surprise. How could he recognize me?
He continued to stand there looking at me. Finally, he said to me softly: “I’m your friend.”
“But why do you want to meet with me here? What does it mean?”
There was a long silence while he stared into the fire. Then he began speaking again as if trying to reassure himself that this was really the person he had come to see.
“Listen,” he whispered. “You may think I’ve changed my mind, but it’s only because of circumstances beyond my control. I’m afraid you’ll think me mad, but I can’t go on hiding any longer.”
At first, I was puzzled as to what he meant, but gradually it dawned on me that he had to keep the secret of his identity. If he revealed it then the whole story might end. And then I understood how deeply troubled he was about the whole affair.
“How do you expect me to believe you? Why should I listen to anything you have to say?”
“Because, my dear friend, the truth is so extraordinary that I don’t think you will be able to comprehend it.”
For a long time, he stood silently staring at me, then he said:
“My name is Týr, the god of battle and strength. Many years ago I appeared in the form of a man, and I became very well-known among the people of Iceland. They worshipped me and gave me all kinds of names, such as Níðhöggr or Óðin Fóska, ‘the lord of the world because they believed that I could bring them good luck in their battles and protect them from evil spirits.
“They built me shrines at many places where I had been seen or heard from. The most famous of these shrines lies on an island off the coast of Norway. My followers came to worship at it, and there were always plenty of offerings for the shrine: fish, birds’ eggs, honey, and milk, all given in reverence and faith. There were even sacrifices, and sometimes I was offered my own blood by my faithful worshippers.
“I enjoyed being worshipped. People flocked to me and brought gifts. They made promises to me, and their hearts burned within them, burning with love for me.”
His voice sounded full of sadness as he remembered his former glory and power. Suddenly he stopped speaking and stood in front of me gazing intently into my eyes. I stared back at him in silence for some moments, and I was beginning to understand just how powerful he had once been and how great the influence he still exerted was.
As I watched him he turned his gaze towards the sea and started walking slowly around and around the hut. I could feel a cold shiver run up my spine. Something ominous seemed to hang over me as if we were both about to enter dangerous territory. But I didn’t move.
“What you need, my good friend is a new kind of belief – and I think I know what it should be! But you are a stranger here and you have only one chance to save yourself. You must believe me completely!”
Suddenly he raised his arm and pointed out towards the sea. His gesture indicated that I should follow him outside. Without saying another word he walked out of the door and down to the shore. It was dark, and a strong wind was blowing, carrying clouds of spray from the water. On the beach, Týr took hold of something which lay there. When I asked him what he had found, he answered simply:
“It belongs to us!”
Then he lifted a large rock and threw it out into the waves, sending up a mighty splash that reached high into the sky. We stood there watching the ripples moving in the darkness. Then, when the water began to calm down, I saw that the stone was shaped like a giant axe. Týr picked it up and handed it to me. I felt its weight, then passed it back to him, wondering at this strange coincidence.
“Why do you want me to believe you?”
Again he gazed out across the water. At last he spoke quietly but firmly:
“Because the truth is unbelievable, and if you don’t accept it straight away, you’ll never believe it! I have traveled far in search of you – not because I wanted you to worship me, but for your own sake.
You must remember that it was your ancestor Thorir who first brought me here. In his youth, he was a friend of mine, but now he lives on his estate in Hesteyri and has no contact with the people of Iceland. He doesn’t know what happened to me all those years ago, or that I’ve returned to my homeland.”
For a moment there was a pause before he continued.
“He has become an important personage. He rules over the land around Hesteyri, and the people revere him and obey him. But I’m warning you: he’s not worthy of his position, and sooner or later he will be destroyed by my enemies.”
Týr paused for a while, and I could see that he was thinking hard about something. Then suddenly he turned to me with a grim smile.
“That day will come soon enough. But there are others who have been following in your footsteps for many years. They are waiting in the forest nearby.”
We were silent for a while. The wind had died down, and the air had a faint chilliness to it. Týr went back inside, returning shortly afterward with a small fire-blackened axe.
“You must make an offering to me now,” he said. “Take this to the altar and offer it with respect. Then we shall go deeper into the woods and look for those who await us there.”
He handed me the axe, which felt heavy in my hands. Then I followed him out of the hut and down to the beach. A short distance from the hut lay an old boat lying half submerged in the sand. We waded into the waves to reach it and pushed it into deep water. Týr took an oar from the boat and rowed us out towards the middle of the bay.
The sun was setting, throwing long shadows along the beach. The waves grew bigger and swirled around our boat as we sailed slowly past rocks and small islands. The smell of fish drifted across to us through the stillness of the air. We came to a place where the water seemed darker; then the bottom gave way under us and we sank up to our knees in the cold sea. For a few minutes, we were forced to cling tightly together until we finally reached the surface again. Týr jumped out of the boat and began rowing it ashore.
“You must take this boat with you,” he told me. “It will help you to escape. When it begins to sink, jumps into the sea and swims fast toward the shore. If you’re lucky, you won’t meet any other dangers.”
I thanked him for his advice and started rowing myself back to shore. When I reached the bank, I climbed out and took the oar from Týr, handing it back to him after he had given me a few words of thanks in return.
There was something very familiar about the sound of his voice, almost as though I’d heard it before. And then it hit me: this wasn’t some man called Týr at all. This was the same god whom I had seen in the cave at Hesteyri!
“Who are you?” I demanded. “How did you get here? Where are your men?”
But the answer was not what I expected. The god turned towards me with a smile on his lips, and I noticed how similar he looked to his son Thorir – tall, broad-shouldered, handsome.
“They’re here,” he replied simply.
The End