Furthermore, on the other side of the promontory began the terrible Gulf of Lyons.

Upon its surface, not more than ninety yards in extent, the waters driven by the strong sea winds often became so rough, and raised up waves so high and so solid that upon clashing together and finding no intermediate space upon which to fall, they piled one upon another, forming regular towers.
This gulf was the most terrible of the Mediterranean.

The transatlantic liners returning from a good voyage to the other hemisphere used here to tremble with a pre-monition of danger and sometimes even turned back.

The captains who had just crossed the great Atlantic would here furrow their brows with uneasiness.
From the door of the Athenaeum the experts used to point out the Latin sailboats that were about to double the promontory.

They were merchant vessels such as that elder Ferragut had commanded, embarkations from Valencia that were bringing wine to Cette and fruits to Marseilles.
Upon seeing the blue surface of the Gulf on the other side of the Cape with no other roughness than that of a long and infinitely heavy swell, the Valencians would exclaim happily: "Let us cross quickly, while the lion sleeps." Ulysses had one friend, the secretary of the city-hall, and the only inhabitant that had any books in his house.