All the afternoon we are chased by a thunderstorm, but manage to keep
ahead of it. We do, however, get the wind that goes with it, and
there is a deal of motion in the ship, and a deal of squeamishness in
certain stomachs. By eight o'clock we have left the storm behind,
and by ten have abeam the light on a little island off Crete, or
Candia, as it is also called. We think of St. Paul and the hardships
he endured along this coast while he was on his way to Rome. The
Cretans of his time seem to have been a pretty bad lot, for he cites
"a prophet of their own" as saying that they were "always liars,
wicked brutes, lazy bellies," and vouches for the truth of the
indictment. But there must have been some good ones among them, for
he made many converts there, and gave his beloved disciple Titus to
be their first Bishop.
* * *