As Ulysses sailed onward, a strong wind picked up and shot his ship and crew far off course.  When the storm subsided they were fortunately close to an island, and moored in to gather supplies and find their bearing.  As they worked, they found they were not alone.  Strange African men in tribal clothing crept out of the bushes, not speaking, only watching.  Ulysses’ crew nervously went back to the ship and began to draw the anchor.  One of the men who watched them approached and suddenly spoke.
“Go back to where you came from.  You cannot handle these waters.”
The fearless Ulysses stood on the deck and called down “And why is that? Where are we and who are you people?”
Ignoring the men who were readying their weapons for trouble, the African stepped up onto the boarding ramp.  “I am Rucas, of the Ganaa tribe of this land.  You are sailing in the Goat Sea.  How did you come to this dangerous place?  The gods frown upon all who come here.”
“I am Ulysses of Ithaca, and I fear no god or demon.  Tell me what direction I must sail in to return to the Ionian Sea.”
Walking into the ship, Rucas gestured northward and sat down on the bow.  “There is a great danger in these waters; your bravery is admired.  I will accompany you.”  The ship set sail hoping familiar oceans awaited them.  The seas gradually began to get rougher as they continued.  In the midst of a great storm, the waters before them parted and a massive creature roared out from the depths.  Two necks reached up to join under its head, and a massive tentacle waved around under the head menacingly, but the most frightening thing was the face- for their was none, only a giant gaping hole assumed to be the mouth.  Ulysses’ crew was unable to attack, for the sight of the monster brought upon them such a supernatural horror that their eyes swelled shut and rolled back in their sockets, unable to bear the repulsion.
Then the stranger stood up and raised his arms.  “Against this creature of these waters, I must use my last measure.”  A glowing light emanated from him, and on the sides of the ship two banks of land rose up as the ship was floating in a crack in the middle.  The waters seemed to freeze, and then it seemed as if the whole world began to move around.  The crew realized that this man was in fact a god disguising himself when a booming chorus of voices cried out in a strange tongue from the sky; a sudden jolt threw them all to their feet.  Yellow sulfur-filled water jetted out volcanically from the crack between the land masses, and the ship flew threw the sky.
When the crew regained consciousness, they found their ship sitting placidly off the coast of the island they had left from before the storm had hit.  Parts of the deck were splintered, but worst off were some of the younger crewmates, who were curled up and shivering at the memory of the monstrous sight, as if it was burned into their minds.  A crewman cried, “It feels as though that creature made something die inside me.”  Ulysses responded, “That was the weak part.  Now you are stronger.”  They sailed on.