I’ve always used the term “sirens’ song” casually.  As if I knew what it sounded like.  Ladies, I had no idea.  The sirens were a mythical group of women who haunted the waters of the 900 or so Greek Islands (about 400 of these islands are still uninhabited).  The sirens are usually represented as mermaids.  The story goes that they sing men to their deaths.  Their song is so beautiful that men are seduced by it and jump off ships to their death in the mistaken belief that their desire will be satisfied by these creatures.   Their song is so powerful that the greatest warrior ever, Odysseus, had to have himself bound to the mast so he too, wouldn’t succumb to their song.  That’s the nice version.

Our ship traveled at night from Athens to Rhodes, negotiating these islands.  I had thought about the sirens but hadn’t mentioned their story to JeanPaul.  Sometime in the middle of the night I awoke to the sound of the wind.  A strange wind, almost like a song wind.  I saw JeanPaul standing on the balcony overlooking the water.  I asked him what he was doing.  He returned to bed, silently.  Everything felt eerie, so I got up and closed the balcony door.  Locked it, too.

Next morning, JeanPaul told me about a dream he had of jumping off the balcony.  It was weird, he said, a thought came into his head that it would be easy to jump into the water.  You would have to know JeanPaul’s absolute fear of heights to know how ridiculous this sounded.

I told him about the sirens, about Odysseus and about the fates of the seamen who followed the sirens’ song.  He had never heard the story before (or at least he said he hadn’t).  No matter.  I heard their song, I knew they had sung to him.  A few nights later as we sailed from Turkey towards Egypt, I kept the balcony door locked tight and left the stereo on all night.  They weren’t going to mess with him, again.

I’ll never use that term casually again.  There’s a reason their song and story has come down through millenia.  They are beautiful, powerful seductresses, they always have been and warriors have good reason to fear them.   So a bit of advice is in order, if you ever find yourself on a ship somewhere in the Greek Islands with a warrior – lock the doors.  They know the way into men’s souls.