Leagues from the Rocks
A pale morning sun hangs low on the horizon. Soon it will roast the trireme as it moves across calm water. For now the air is cool and quiet except for the rhythm of labor. The oars rise, then splash back into the sea. Fifteen men row until noon, when they will be relieved. This crew has been rowing since before dawn.
https://bryanaiellocom.wordpress.com/2026/03/15/leagues-from-the-rocks/



