





With favoring winds, o'er sunlit seas,
We sailed for the Hesperides,
The land where golden apples grow;
But that, ah! that was long ago.
How far, since then, the ocean streams
Have swept us from that land of dreams,
That land of fiction and of truth,
The lost Atlantis of our youth!
Whither, ah, whither? Are not these
The tempest-haunted Orcades,
Where sea-gulls scream, and breakers roar,
And wreck and sea-weed line the shore?
Ultima Thule! Utmost Isle!
Here in thy harbors for a while
We lower our sails; a while we rest
From the unending, endless quest.
You see that one ship out on the horizon,
and feel that unique tang of loneliness.
There's far, far too much blank sea to thrive in,
and all the makings for keen ghostliness.
That boat will soon be passing beyond sight,
and maybe it will falter, maybe sink.
The sea has created a million plights,
and hazards there will honor no strict brinks.
In Shakespeare, ships are lost, often as not.
See: "Tempest," "Merchant," "Pericles,” and so on.
Perhaps, you'll say that today isn't so fraught
with maritime menace and sea demons.
Why more vexed than those who keep ships running?
'Cause sailors will never, ever, see it coming.
At the harbor at Fort Kochi, where ships enter the Arabian Sea, there are old Chinese Fishing Nets lining the coast. The nets don’t yield many fish in this area, but exist more as a tourist attraction. The fixed, lever-lowered nets were actually introduced by the Portuguese–albeit Portuguese who had spent time in southern China (i.e. Macau.)
The port at Kochi (Cochin) is one of India’s major transportation hubs (11th largest by tonnage and 8th largest by number of containers.) In addition to modern products, the port still handles a lot of the spice that made Kochi an important center of trade since ancient times.
The channel has to be dredged to keep a clear path for the large number of ships transiting in and out of port.