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After a lean dark winter spring is welcome. The shed doors are opened, the vessels on their rollers emerge, into the light, as though awakening, and the rigging, refitting, caulking, and painting begins. It is lovely when, later, the ships, wreathed with flowers, to singing and music, are brought to the water. Oil, and wine, and salt are poured into Thassa, the oil to calm her waters, the wine that she may be warmed and pleased, and the salt, in its preciousness, for honor, prestige, life, and hope, and, too, that it may be mixed with her own, that she may accept the ship as one with her, to be sheltered and protected, as sister, as kin. But, woe, I was far from Telnus, and her comforts. Her steep, narrow streets, her lights, her taverns, her slaves, perfumed and painted, their wrists and ankles jangling with bells, with tender lips and well-rounded, warm arms, were far distant. I looked over the rail. - (Mariners of Gor, Chapter )