It is a well-known fact that solids sink in liquids of like material. Solid iron sinks below molten iron in the forge, and liquid beeswax floats closest to the wick of the burning candle. Unlike all else, however, water sinks as a liquid; lakes and ponds freeze up in the winter, although the brine of the sea remains clear for sailing. The reason for this strange phenomenon is that a vengeful Poseidon caused this to occur, and the story as to why is as follows:

In the time of Hercules, there lived a wandering traveler. He was known as Jeris of Pembroke, as he came from that island just off the great land mass at the western edge of the world. This man Jeris was a journeyman, and he has set foot on more soil than Odysseus and Jason of Thessaly combined. In his travels, Jeris had gained much knowledge, and he has so become quite wise: so much in fact that he claimed to possess more knowledge than any other mortal in the world.

In time this boast had reached Olympus, and it touched the ears of Athena, patron of Athens and most wise of the gods. Although Athena was immortal and therefore not implicated in Jeris's boast, she wondered if he was in fact as smart as he claimed. She questioned Apollo, brother of Artemis, as his truthfulness was not doubted by anyone, mortal or otherwise, as to the purported wiseness of the man Jeris. "He means what he says and knows well to say it, for of all mortals who this day walk the earth, it is this Jeris who, by virtue of his extensive travels, is most sage," replied Apollo.

"But does he claim to outwit the immortals?" queried Athena. "And is he thus capable?"

"Indeed he is wise enough to utter no such boast, daughter of Zeus. As to his knowledge contested with that of the gods, I for one believe many would fail to match him. I swear by the river where the ferryman Charon plies his trade that even I myself could not outwit this man Jeris."

Athena was dumbfounded. Astonished, she resolved to find out for herself if indeed Jeris could match wits with the gods. She came down upon earth, and assuming the form of an Athenian maiden of sixteen, sought out Jeris, whose travels had brought him to Mycenae.

At dawn of the day following Athena's arrival, Jeris of Pembroke found himself inexplicably summoned to the palace of Eurystheus, King of Mycenae. Upon his arrival, he was greeted by the king himself, with the maid Athena at his side. "O Jeris of Pembroke, it is said that you are the wisest being in all the world," said the king.

Replied Jeris, "May immortal Zeus set this palace ablaze with his thunderbolt if there is any mortal living on earth this day who than me is wiser. As I have yet to challenge the immortals, I may make no claim as of yet with regard to them."

Eurystheus, impressed with the wise man's reply, continued: "This maiden of Athens wishes to challenge you to a battle of wits, to whatever stakes you desire."

Jeris raised his hand. "Stakes are not necessary." He turned toward his challenger. "I am confident that our mutual desire to prove our own worth shall be motivation enough. I accept the challenge of the grey-eyed maid of Athens." Returning his attention to Eurystheus, Jeris continued: "And as I know you to be most just and fair, even in punishment of your cousin Hercules, I request that you be the judge of our competition."

"Then I bid you both return upon the dawn of the morrow," commanded the king, "and the Athenian's challenge shall be answered."

The two competitors then retired from the royal chambers, not to meet each other again until the following morning.

Back at Olympus, while Athena prepared for the competition at Mycenae, Apollo contemplated the statements made by Jeris before Eurystheus. "Jeris of Pembroke truly does not know that he is inferior to the gods; he has yet to face them, he says. Wise he may be, but Athena shall set him in his place."

The next morning the competitors returned to the palace of Eurystheus.

"I pray to thee Apollo," issued the Mycenaen king, "that this contest may in no part be false, and that a winner declared be the one who is the more sage, in your judgement and mine." "And now the rules: I have thought of a thousand questions, to which I have found a thousand answers. I shall ask these questions of each of you in turn, and by your responses I shall determine who is the wiser. You, of Pembroke, shall be at the north end of the palace, and you, of Athens, at the south, so that neither may hear the other. Is there any dissent as to the manner of the contest?" Both Jeris and the maiden remained silent. "Then," proclaimed Eurystheus, "let the contest begin!"

The remainder of the morning was spent with the questioning; one, then the other answered each question with such exacting detail as to be sure to prove the contestant's knowledge. Apollo watched the contest from Olympus with great interest, and he resolved, much to his dismay, that he had been correct in assessing Jeris's ability: only the most wise of the gods could possibly defeat him, Apollo thought. Whether she would succeed was another matter, and as he anxiously awaited the results, he searched for another way to put the mortal Jeris in his place.

The coming of noon signaled the end of the competition, and Eurystheus tallied the results. Unsatisfied, he tallied them again. And again. Thrice and thrice more he computed the winner, and nine times the same result came to him. He then called the competitors back together to announce the victor: "O immortal gods, you see before you today the greatest minds now standing on the earth: the self-proclaimed champion of mortals, Jeris of Pembroke, and his rightful equal, the grey-eyed Athenian. Each was posed a thousand questions, and each gave a thousand answers. Each erred in answering three, yet each agreed with the other in the answers to the letter, both in right and in wrong. Each is therefore equal to the other--this contest is a draw. Congratulations to the contestants--you are both indeed vastly wise."

Jeris thanked the king, and turned to leave, but the grey-eyed challenger called after him. "I have one further question for you," she shouted. "You have proven you know much about earthly affairs, and I assume you know nearly as much about the gods. Tell me, who is the mother of Athena, daughter of Zeus? I have heard many stories, yet not all agree. What is the truth in this matter?"

"Ah," responded Jeris from the door of the palace, "you indeed do not well know the patron of your city, for you unwittingly ask a question without an answer. Athena, creator of the olive tree, claims no mother; she is the daughter of Zeus and Zeus alone, having been born full-grown of his forehead." Jeris, satisfied, then departed to set sail for his next journey.

Apollo was outraged at all that had occurred. "Jeris has shown himself not worthy of life. His impious display contesting the wisdom of the gods must not go unpunished, for a mere mortal shall not humiliate the gods in this manner. I ask therefore of you, dear sister, that you slay the man Jeris, on my behalf as well as Athena's, on behalf of all Olympus that he cease to live, and may Minos judge him unworthy of all but the lowest depths of Hades's domain!" And so Apollo delivered this entreaty to the huntress Artemis, that she may revenge for all the Olympians this affront by the man Jeris of Pembroke.

Athena meanwhile, hearing none of Apollo's pleas, could not respond herself to the mortal's answer to her question; Jeris is indeed as smart as she, she realized, for he even exactly and meticulously responded correctly to a question specifically meant to trick him. Athena realized further that should Jeris travel beyond Mycenae, two things would happen: he would gain more knowledge than even the goddess of wisdom herself could amass, and, aware of Apollo's sarcastic oath about Jeris's abilities, Jeris could be in danger facing Apollo's wrath. She would have been right on both counts. She therefore resolved to detain Jeris--permanently--in Mycenae, where she could protect him. She ran from the palace of Eurystheus toward the Aegean shore, but Jeris had set sail; when she arrived at the shoreline, his ship was out to sea. She then called upon Poseidon, the god of the sea, to aid her in trapping Jeris. She traded her patronage of the city of Athens to Poseidon, who had initially contended for it as well, and in return Poseidon made the ice at the base of the sea rise to the surface. Thus was Jeris's ship trapped, and the maiden Athena walked across the ice to the suddenly captive ship. There she seized the man Jeris, who was bewildered by the floating ice in the sea, and brought him back to shore. When they again set foot upon the land, the ice sank to the bottom from whence it had risen. The grey-eyed maiden-goddess then spoke to Jeris: "From Pembroke you have come, gathering knowledge along the way to rival even the wisest of the gods. At Mycenae you have met your only match, and the two greatest minds in history have done battle to no victory. At Mycenae then you must stay, that you may never more gain knowledge so as to surpass the gods."

"I have never, before today, faced an immortal, but I gather I speak to one now. I concede that I have matched an immortal's wisdom, but I implore that I may not have matched she who is wisest, that Athena of whom you earlier queried."

"Your knowledge of the wise Athena is impressive indeed. And while she can accept a tie, she cannot face a future loss. Indeed there are doubtless those among the gods who cannot bear even a draw this day. So, Jeris of Pembroke, you shall stay at Mycenae, you shall stay in the town of our battle as a monument to the two greatest minds of all time, yours and Athena's.

You pointed out to me that it was I who created the olive tree. This is true enough, and as it is most sacred to me, I shall create one of you now, that you shall no longer wander the earth."

Jeris bowed his head, and he was a tree.

At this moment the huntress Artemis sprang from the forest north of the city, and coming upon Athena, questioned her as to the whereabouts of Jeris. "Foolish one, Apollo," cried Athena, turning toward the sky. "You thought you could outwit me, that I would not see your distaste for the wise mortal. You even attempted to fool me with an oath 'on the river where the Ferryman Charon plies his trade'. The river of oath of the immortals is Styx, yet your oath is on Acheron! Such an obvious Farce could only mean that you, Apollo, were not disclosing the truth of your feelings. You felt certainly that you could easily defeat the man Jeris: in music, yes, but in knowledge the fight would be equally unfair, and you would not approach to be the victor. Therefore you send your sister here in your stead to doubtless slay the man who would defeat Apollo. Alas, Apollo, you are not to have him slain, for what man or god that shall attack this sacred olive tree should answer to Zeus, as would one sacking your sacred temple at Delphi. Be not attempting to trick those than whom you are less wise, Apollo--you shall lose always." And so Athena returned with Artemis to Olympus, and the Pembrokan olive stood fast, unharmed.

All was then harmonious on Olympus, until some time later, when Poseidon had become displeased with the bargain he had struck with Athena. True enough, he had wanted Athens for his own city, but while Athena had relinquished her rights to the city, the Athenians, not knowing of the deal struck among the gods, continued to respect Athena as their patron goddess. This Poseidon viewed as disrespectful to his own right, and he brought a storm raging upon the Athenian shores, and even to the city itself. Zeus was alarmed at this storm, for it was not of his doing, and Zeus is responsible for storms on land. So Zeus summoned the Olympians to him, and demanded who was responsible for the storm. Poseidon spoke up; it was he, he explained. "But why do you not confine your storms to the sea, as is your lot, and instead punish my daughter's city with your rage?" Zeus demanded of his brother.

"It is not hers. Its patronage she gave to me in exchange for my aid in trapping the man Jeris on the sea," Poseidon responded.

"But why still," Zeus pressed, "do you vent your rage upon this land, and not by sea as is your lot?"

"The citizens under my patronage have ignored me. They continue to hail Athena as their rightful patron."

"If the people of Athens hold Athena as their patron, then the duty of patronage is not hers to delegate but hers alone to honor. This is my judgement in this matter," Zeus resolved.

So it was resolved by Zeus that Athena had never in fact relinquished the city of Athens. This was satisfactory to the sage goddess; Poseidon, on the other hand, became even more enraged. He dismissed the storm from the land, but for three days it continued to rage in the Aegean harbors as Poseidon sought to avenge his niece's trickery. At length he found the answer. Returning to Olympus, he sought out the goddess Athena and to her spoke these words: "You have succeeded, daughter of Zeus, in manipulating my powers over the lakes and seas to suit your own ends; you floated the ice on the sea at Mycenae to trap the island-born wanderer who your equal mind had been proven. For this usurpation you have been cost nothing; that which had been offered has been deemed inofferable. And so I now proclaim that this transaction is complete once more: Athena's will is granted at no recompense, and from this day forth the ice in the seas and lakes the world over shall float on top of the water, as the wisest of goddesses has ordained."

Athena's face was graced with a puzzled look. "You have not the power you think you have," was her response.

"Ah, fair Athena," Poseidon laughed, "you cannot defeat me this time. Nor can you run to your father, for Zeus's lot is control of the skies, and mine the waters. You must concur with this reason, goddess of reason that you are!" Athena nodded, somber-faced. "Then I have indeed won." Athena's head drooped. Full of self-satisfaction, Poseidon returned to his suddenly-frozen domain.

With Poseidon then gone from Olympus, Athena, raising her head, muttered, "You have not the power you think you have," smiling.

It is true that Poseidon was supreme over the sea that day, but he had neglected to remember one slight detail. That evening, the sun-god Helios, having completed his day's journey, returned toward his palace's undersea gates with his flaming-hot chariot. As he approached the surface of the sea, he noticed the wall of ice that Poseidon had placed at his entrance. Resolved to melt the ice, Helios drove his golden chariot even faster than usual toward the sea, so much faster that the chariot turned red in the added heat. As he approached the sea, the intense heat melted the surfaced ice; the ice in all the world's seas succumbed to its reddened heat. Thus the ice in the seas was melted, and Poseidon was furious. For five more days, he witnessed the ice float on the surface, and each of five dusks it was melted by Helios's speeding chariot. Finally Poseidon accepted his defeat and went back to Olympus, where in Athena's presence he spoke these words: "The sun-god Helios I had omitted from the list of those who might limit my power, and he has been the one to defeat my will each of these last five days. I therefore resolve here, in the presence of Athena, that the ice of the seas shall no longer float, but shall stay hidden far beneath the surface, as it had been."

Athena smiled. "I told you you had not the power you thought you had. I believe you now know the expanse of your domain, and I commend you for gaining this knowledge. Now you shall be less susceptible to the trickery employed by those wiser than you. That the ice still floats on the lakes of pure water yet not on the seas of brine shall be a fair reminder to all the immortals, myself included, of the limits of each other's--and our own-capabilities."

And so the incident ended. That is, for all but Helios, the incident ended. To this day, that he never be caught off-guard should the ice float again, he speeds his chariot into the sea, and so it appears red at dusk.