A Gentle Sail with Ancient Sea Explorers - History Sleep Story - Rest: Sleepy Bedtime Stories

Episode Transcript
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Speaker 1 (00:01):
Good evening, and welcome to Rest, your sanctuary for peaceful
sleep and relaxation. Whether you're escaping daily stresses or seeking
a nightly companion, you're in the right place. My name
is Jessica, and I'll be your host this evening. Before

(00:27):
we begin, why don't you turn off your screens and
turn down your volume. Now that's done, let's unwind and
help you ease into a blessed rest. Close your eyes

(00:52):
and let your mind drift back through the sentries to
a time when the world was quieter, a time when
the edges of the known world were shrouded in mystery,
a time when maps were incomplete, and stories of distant

(01:18):
lands passed from sailor to sailor, growing richer and more
fantastical with each telling. Picture. The bustling harbors of ancient Massalia,
the scent of salt and tar mingling with the hum

(01:43):
of a busy port. Ships bob gently in the water,
their sails ready to catch the wind, while merchants and
adventurers exchange news of strange, far off places. Among them

(02:08):
is a quiet but curious figure, Pitheus of Messalia, a
bold explorer setting sail for the northern seas tonight wheel
journey alongside him through calm harvests and gentle oceans. So

(02:37):
breathe in deeply. Imagine you're inhaling the salty scent of
the ocean, and let go of your day. Slip on
your imaginary sea boots and join me as we explore

(03:01):
the sleepy history of this ancient explorer. You had heard
all about him, the quiet and adventurous Greek from the
bustling harbor of Messalia modern day Marseilles, a brave explorer

(03:31):
known for his unquenchable curiosity and outlandish ventures beyond familiar
Mediterranean shores to chart unknown, colder waters. Pitheus the Man,
the myth and the legend, one of the first Greeks

(03:58):
to reach Britain and make some of the first known
mentions of the Aurora borealis, also known as the Northern Lights.
He also made one of the earliest descriptions of Arctic

(04:18):
ice in recorded history, describing parts of the sea as
neither solid nor liquid nor air, which many believe referred
to sea ice or slush, a sight undoubtedly foreign to

(04:42):
the Mediterranean world. Born in the fourth century BCE, little
is known about his early life, but his journey north
made him one of the most respected explorers of his generation.

(05:08):
At the time, knowledge of northern Europe was extremely limited,
but Pytheus was driven by inquisitiveness and an academic mission
to chart new territories and understand the lands beyond his

(05:31):
You've been a fan of this master geographer for a
long time, and once you'd received word that his ship
was docked in your town's harbor, well, there was no
second guessing what you were about to do next. The

(05:58):
doc is life but hushed. The low sun on the horizon,
illuminating the row of sailors standing to attention. A salty
sea breeze carries a slightly cold bite, and the seagulls

(06:22):
call as they circle overhead. A faint scent of fresh
wood and tar rises from the hull of the ship,
newly mended and ready for the long journey northward. A

(06:46):
mixed group of twelve men and women wait in silence,
their eyes glued to the tall figure before them, Commander Pythius.
Commander Pitheus, stands firm, his intense gaze sweeping over the

(07:12):
assembled crew, as though weighing each person's dedication and readiness
for the journey ahead. Beside him, his second in command,
Captain Cleon, waits patiently with a parchment rolled up under

(07:35):
his arm, prepared to record the names of those selected.
You stand in line, sandwiched between a young man with
a wooden leg and a woman with a coarse face
and even coarser disposition. You feel the light flutter of

(08:03):
nerves and anticipation swirling in your chest. This voyage is
unlike any other. It is beyond what any of you
standing on the dock know. The tails of islands, bathed

(08:27):
in eternal twilight, of lands enthralled by a chill so
deep it can be felt in your very bones, have
floated through the port, And so here you are hoping

(08:49):
for a once in a lifetime opportunity to sail with
Commander Pitheus. It had just so conveniently happened that two
of Pitheus's crew members had overindulged the night prior at

(09:11):
a local capalos, a humble establishment for drinking and carousing,
and this morning, quite curiously, were nowhere to be found.
And as Captain Cleon had mentioned several times, the commander

(09:35):
waits for no man. You do your best to look
the part of a reliable see ready sailor. You puff
up your chest, hold your head high, and keep your

(09:57):
eyes fixed straight ah head. One by one, Pytheas scans
his potential crew members, scrutinizing them silently with his eyes.
Then he pauses hystare, lingering as he studies you an

(10:24):
ever so slight approving nod. Then he speaks with a
steady voice that cuts through the silence. Lycos and you,
he says, pointing at you, I see a hunger for

(10:48):
adventure behind those eyes. Your relief and excitement swell as
you and like costs, step forward. Pithius nods again briefly
and welcomes you both aboard. The assembled crew disperses, moving

(11:15):
swiftly to prepare for departure. As you approach the gangplank,
Captain Cleon hands you each a small bundle containing a
few provisions and a spare cloak. The boards creak underfoot

(11:37):
as you ascend, excited to take your first steps onto
Pythius's ship. The vessel is sturdy, yet modest, crafted less
for the eye and more for long treacherous journeys. It is.

(12:00):
It's built primarily from oak, its deck and hull stained
with salt from countless ocean waves. The ship is compact,
every inch of space serving a purpose. Barrels of fresh water,

(12:25):
sacks of grain, and salted fish are secured in every nook.
The air is thick with the smell of brine, damp wood,
and occasionally the faint tang of fish and tar. The

(12:49):
sails are already unfold, ready to catch the winds that
will carry you all northward into the unknown. You find
your place among the crew. Glancing around to take in

(13:11):
the vastness of the sea ahead, you spot Pythius and
Cleon exchanging a few final words, and soon, with a
shouted command, the ropes are untied. The ship's hull shifts,

(13:36):
and then it's gliding forward, cutting through the calm harbour
waters and setting course for the open ocean. Your first
day aboard Pitheus's ship passes quickly, a blurred rhythm of

(14:00):
persistent work men hauling ropes, adjusting sails, keeping the coarse steady,
and habitually celebrating the peaceful waters and calm weather. The
day's journey has been blessed with Their celebrations had continued

(14:27):
until Captain Cleon had grown tired of their praises and
demanded they cease immediately before they doomed the rest of
the journey, condemning you all to biting winds and relentless rains.

(14:49):
As twilight descends, the sky turns from clear blue to
deep pastel shades of orange and red. The crew gathers
on the deck for dinner, Sitting in small groups near

(15:11):
the main mast. You turn over a nearby barrel and
take a seat, your back pressed against the side of
the ship to stabilize you as you eat. The meal

(15:31):
is a simple one salted fish hardtack, a dry, long
lasting biscuit, dried fruits, and a small portion of preserved meat.
Although you must admit the meal is very basic and

(15:55):
a far cry from yesterday's hot and steaming, delicious supper
back home, you enjoy every bite. The meal offers a
brief and unexpected moment of warmth and companionship with your shipmates.

(16:21):
As you savor the last bite of the salted fish,
softened by water, you lean in closer, warmed by the
flickering lantern, as the sailors spin their tails, some crew

(16:42):
members evidently embellishing their adventures more than others. A seasoned
sailor a grisly old marina named Nilos leans back against
the ship, a mischievous twinkle in his eye and a

(17:07):
grin pulling at his lips. Ah did I ever speak
of the time we were swept up in a storm
off the coast of Crete, Niels starts, his voice, betraying

(17:29):
the practiced tones of a prolific storyteller. The crew turns
to listen, the younger sailors watching him with wide eyed delight.
It was night, and our torches had all been doused

(17:53):
by the rain. Not a glimmer of starlight in sight
to guide us, only waves rising taller than a giant's reach,
crashing against the hull, battering us. He pauses, letting the

(18:18):
suspense settle like mist over the sea. A few of
the seasoned crew shake their heads, presumably having heard this
tale many times before, but all the same, they quietly

(18:41):
wait for what's to come next. Nilos leans forward, lowering
his voice even further. As the storm raged, I looked
over to their health and saw Commander Pitheus, unshaken, calm

(19:08):
as the stillest water. He kept his hands steady on
the tiller. We had every reason to think we'd be
dashed against the rocks, But there the commander stood, his

(19:29):
eyes trained on the darkness, as if he possessed the
power to see beyond it. Hours went by, the rain
bucketing down, and still he didn't waver. The crew's faces

(19:54):
tense as they imagine the storm's fury, and Pytheus calm
amidst the chaos. But then Nilos continues, Just as dawn
started to break, a hush fell over the sea, The

(20:20):
clouds parted, and there before us was the island of Crete,
only a few lengths away. Pytheus had steered us true
through the storm, straight to the safe shores, without even

(20:44):
a flicker of starlight to guide him. The younger sailor's
eyes shine brightly. Spellbound, Nilos laughs, leaning and taking a
large gulp from his water skin. Now some say Pitheus

(21:11):
has divine favor. Others say he could feel the currents
beneath the keel and guide us by instinct alone. But me,
I say it was a bit of both. There's a pause,

(21:35):
then laughter ripples through the group. The sailors swap knowing smiles,
a few muttering their own theories about the mysterious event,
even the grumbling of those who've heard the story many

(21:57):
times before. In the laughter As the laughs fade, you
find yourself smiling too, feeling just a little bit closer
to this crew of fellow wanderers. The camaraderie, the shared resilience,

(22:26):
and a story well told wrap you in a warmth
that no home fire could ever match. The clink of
dinner balls drifts off into quiet as the crew settles

(22:46):
in readying themselves for sleep, leaving only the soft creaking
of the ship and the wash of waves lapping against
its hull. You sit still, entertained by the sailor's swash

(23:12):
buckling tails when Captain Cleon slowly approaches. I'll have you
as our meteorologist tonight, he says, voice calm and low.
At first, doubt passes across your face, a mixture of

(23:39):
surprise and the uneasy weight of the very real responsibility.
Accurate weather predictions mean safe passage after all, and you
can't help but feel unsure. But Cleon catches your eye,

(24:05):
and his steady words prick your ears. Observe, notice, and learn,
he says, glancing out at the sea, the sky, the sea,

(24:27):
the air. They all have their own language. But don't fret.
You'll learn to speak it soon enough, and tonight will
be your first lesson. He slaps you encouragingly on your

(24:49):
back as his eyes scan the horizon. Here, I'll help
you get started. Always study the sky as it changes color.
See how the high clouds you know, the cirrus clouds,

(25:13):
the ones that look like strands of horsehair, Well they
can signal weather shifts, and of course, ominous dark clouds
tell of approaching storms. Cleon's gaze returns to you as

(25:37):
he speaks the wind and the waves. Are they choppy
or rolling in gently? Are they fit to rock a
nursing baby to sleep better than its mother's arms? They

(25:59):
all tell you, just as well as any sign of
what awaits us on the horizon. In the night's deepening silence,
you soak in each of Cleon's words, his knowledge reassuring

(26:22):
as he describes the sky as if he's met it's
every mood. He turns his eyes upward, pointing to a
soft cluster of stars above. The Pliodes is out tonight.

(26:43):
They mark the season's turn. They're like the Big Dipper's
small radiant sister, not as grand to some, perhaps, but
clear and telling. Nonetheless, his voice softens as he continues

(27:10):
the constellations hanging like diamond chandeliers in the sky. And
in time you'll come to sense the signs in your bones,
feel the heaviness in the air, or a shift in

(27:33):
your joints. Birds will fly inland when storms loom, Dolphins
will gather near the surface in their silent warnings, and
fish below will dart about, sensing what we cannot. Captain

(27:57):
Cleon turns you toward the bow. In a few weeks,
you'll be the one guiding us. I can tell. Remember,
Cleon says, with a wink red sky at night, sailor's

(28:19):
delight red sky in morning, sailors take warning. You nod
your head slowly, trying to absorb the captain's crash course
in Marina's meteorology, and feel a small thrill course through you.

(28:46):
It's possible Captain Cleon sees something in you. The thought
helps ease your nerves ever so slightly. Well, there's no
time like the present, you mutter under your breath, Moving

(29:10):
to the quiet of the bow. Some of the crew
begin bedding down, their voices hushed, huddling together under woolen
blankets for warmth, and settling in as the gentle lull

(29:33):
of the waves works its watery magic. The rest of
the crew keep watchful eyes on the horizon, eagerly awaiting
the watch rotation and their own opportunity to be carried

(29:56):
into rest by the rolling waves. The sea is dark
and glassy, like living black silk, Stretching to meet the sky.
It rocks the ship up and down softly, the vessel

(30:22):
occasionally creaking in response. A full moon hovers five to
ten feet above the surface of the sea, its light
so bright you can easily trace its gray craters with

(30:45):
your eyes. It illuminates a thin path over the water,
carving out a welcomed slice of light amidst the darkness,
almost beckoning the ship to follow its glorious course back home.

(31:10):
The stars are a marvel, and you've spent many a
night sleeping beneath their radiance. But out here the stars
are incomparable and vastly innumerable. It strikes you that there's

(31:35):
almost more stars than sky. Giant hot balls of hydrogen
and helium gas freckling the brooding sky with their glow.
You observe the faint clouds clinging to the eastern edge

(31:59):
of the horizon, and take note of the subtle shift
of wind. Still and calm, but with a slight, salt
drenched chill. The cool, salty air lovingly tickles your lungs

(32:24):
as you begin to make marks on your wax tablet,
pressing carefully to capture each detail. There's a piece to
the motion of this work. The gentle creaks of the ship,

(32:48):
the soft splashes of the waves against the hull, the
occasional sigh of a crew member settling into a deeper sleep.
All these sounds feel like a part of the night's

(33:12):
original score. It's wonderfully comforting, the combined music of the ocean,
the crew, and the night. Then a quiet step behind
you breaks your focus. Are you settling into your duties well?

(33:41):
The familiar curious voice belongs to pytheus himself. He's closer
than you'd expected, his eyes sweeping across the water, his
expression soft, almost doting, like that of a father tenderly

(34:06):
watching over his children as they play unaware. I am sir,
you reply, trying to hide your surprise. The sky is
clear tonight, sir, the winds relatively still. We'll have fair sailing.

(34:33):
I think pitheous nods a hint of approval in his smile. Good,
he murmurs, almost to himself. You secretly study the explorer.

(34:56):
His skin is tanned, a definite combination of his Greek
heritage and years spent sailing under the open sun. His
hair is dark and his beard thick. Resting on his

(35:18):
chest neither wildly nor neatly. He has a sturdy, lean build,
perfectly suited for the physical rigors of sailing, and he's
dressed in a simple tunic layered with woolen fabrics to

(35:44):
keep him warm. Across his chest hangs a well worn
leather bag, its straps softened by years of travel. The
bag looks lightweight yet purposeful, likely holding his scrolls and

(36:08):
navigation tools, or perhaps his wax tablet and stylus for
jotting down expedition notes. You wonder what secrets or discoveries
he scribbled onto its pages. If only I could take

(36:34):
a peek. The thought floats briefly through your mind, tempting
your curiosity. When the stars speak like this, it's a
rare gift, you know, Pitheus muses You hold your scrupulous

(37:00):
studying of the commander and ask, do you often read
the weather like this? Sir Pythius glances at you with
a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. When the sea

(37:22):
is quiet, she's sharing her secrets, inviting us to learn,
should we choose to. He nods towards your tablet, and
you'll hear them too. The stillness often speaks louder than

(37:46):
the storm. You stand quietly, feeling the silent ripple of
Pythius's words, and watch him as he leans against the rail.
You allow a few moments to pass undisturbed, but something

(38:12):
kindles within you, a sudden nosiness that won't be subdued.
You step a little closer, Commander, You begin softly. You

(38:33):
once spoke of a place called Tully, a land where
the light never fades. I've often wondered what was it
like to see a place like that pitheus turns to

(38:54):
look at you, his face catching the faint glow of
moonlight night, his expression touched by a memory, or perhaps
a longing for that distant plane Tully. He replies with

(39:16):
a gentle nod. Six days journey beyond Britain we sailed.
We came upon a land like no other, where the
sun dipped just below the skyline, only to rise again

(39:38):
after the briefest moment. You imagine it a place beyond
the known bounds of familiar light and dark, where day
and night mingle in strange ways, and eternal summer light

(40:02):
sprawls across the land. Did you ever feel, you ask,
choosing your words carefully, as though you'd reached the very
end of the world, like you'd touched the very edge

(40:25):
of the endless river that surrounds us pitheus, ever so
slightly smiles, a subtle, knowing smile. Yes, many of us
felt that we'd come to the edge of all known things.

(40:51):
But then, in that land of unending light, I realized
that the world is not something with an edge. It
is wide, boundless, tremendous, waiting for us to tell stories

(41:15):
of its hidden mysteries. He stares out over the water,
shimmering like liquid mercury, and his eyes lose themselves in
a memory somewhere distant interally. The light was strange, yes,

(41:42):
but beautiful in a way I had never known, and
have never known since the night was almost forgotten. It's
a place where the sun kisses the land and clings

(42:04):
to it like a sailor reunited with his love after
long months at sea. He pauses before continuing slowly. I
remember writing down what I saw, in hopes that others

(42:31):
would one day see Tully as I did. The night,
as I noted, was extremely short in some places, the
sun goes down and rises again after a short interval,

(42:55):
You not feeling amazed that Pithion had captured these words
for future travelers, keeping the thirst for adventure alive. His
observations would be preserved in the texts of Roman historian

(43:19):
Pliny the Elder, a man who carried Pitheus's tales of
Tully to new generations and honored the mystery of his journey.
Then there were others, like Strabo, skeptics who dismissed his

(43:44):
stories as fanciful, fairy tales full of exaggeration. But why
did you press on to such unknown lands when you
couldn't be certain of what you'd find you venture, and

(44:05):
all the while knowing how much skepticism would await you
back home. Pitheus shrugs and laughs, his face alight with
the spark of an explorer. The unknown called to me,

(44:29):
I suppose louder than any other voice. Tully. The lands
we ventured toward they were never just destinations or landmarks
to be conquered. They were invitations to see the world differently,

(44:57):
And for that I was willing to lose myself in
endless seas and under strange skies. And I still am.
The words of man have never meant much to me.

(45:19):
The night air wraps around you, both filled with the
sea's chorus and thoughts of ancient explorers who once looked
to distant shores with the same inextinguishable wonder. You feel

(45:45):
somehow that you are a part of this lineage, now
a quiet companion on a mighty journey, invited to share
in the riddles of exploration with that pitheus walks away, silently,

(46:12):
leaving you all alone in the calm. You return to
your weather observations, now feeling more capable than ever to
take on this important task. The night stretches on and on, peaceful,

(46:43):
and you find yourself listening, truly listening for the first time,
to the stillness of the sea and the song of
the night. Have a blessed rest, sweet dreams, Good night,

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A Gentle Sail with Ancient Sea Explorers - History Sleep Story

Episode Transcript

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.css-14f5ked{margin:0;word-break:break-word;display:-webkit-box;-webkit-box-orient:vertical;box-orient:vertical;-webkit-line-clamp:2;overflow:hidden;}A Gentle Sail with Ancient Sea Explorers - History Sleep Story