May 19, 1770. Found ourselves within half a mile of the coast of Sicily,
which is low, but finely variegated. The opposite coast of Calabria is
very high, and the mountains are covered with the finest verdure. It was
almost a dead calm, our ship scarce moving half a mile in an hour, so
that we had time to get a complete view of the famous rock of Scylla, on
the Calabrian side, Cape Pylorus on the Sicilian, and the celebrated
Straits of the Faro that runs between them. Whilst we were still some
miles distant from the entry of the Straits, we heard the roaring of the
current, like the noise of some large impetuous river confined between
narrow banks. This increased in proportion as we advanced, till we saw
the water in many places raised to a considerable height, and forming
large eddies or whirlpools. The sea in every other place was as smooth
as glass. Our old pilot told us, that he had often seen ships caught in
these eddies, and whirled about with great rapidity, without obeying
the helm in the smallest degree. When the weather is calm, there is
little danger; but when the waves meet with this violent current, it
makes a dreadful sea. He says, there were five ships wrecked in this
spot last winter. We observed that the current set exactly for the rock
of Scylla, and would infallibly have carried any thing thrown into it
against that point; so that it was not without reason the ancients have
painted it as an object of such terror. It is about a mile from the
entry of the Faro, and forms a small promontory, which runs a little out
to sea, and meets the whole force of the waters, as they come out of the
narrowest part of the Straits. The head of this promontory is the famous
Scylla. It must be owned that it does not altogether come up to the
formidable description that Homer gives of it; the reading of which
(like that of Shakspeare’s Cliff) almost makes one’s head giddy. Neither
is the passage so wondrous narrow and difficult as he makes it. Indeed
it is probable that the breadth of it is greatly increased since his
time, by the violent impetuosity of the current. And this violence too
must have always diminished, in proportion as the breadth of the channel
increased.
Our pilot says, there are many small rocks that show their heads near
the base of the large ones. These are probably the dogs that are
described as howling round the monster Scylla. There are likewise many
caverns that add greatly to the noise of the water, and tend still to
increase the horror of the scene. The rock is near two hundred feet
high. There is a kind of castle or fort built on its summit; and the
town of Scylla, or Sciglio, containing three or four hundred
inhabitants, stands on its south side, and gives the title of prince to
a Calabrese family.