Doc had managed to avoid the many tourists that flocked to the Ionian islands in the summer. Yet during each of the three past years, it seemed their numbers had increased with the warmer months of the season's cycle. These were the boat-going adventurers who usually passed below his humble dwelling and section of castle. They journeyed just offshore to the more fashionable and populated side of Kalamos. It was on that eastern side where only a few hundred people were said to be the year-round gentry of the entire island. Porto Kalamos featured a small marina where sea-goers could put in for supplies, moor their boats overnight, and frequent the few local hotels and tavernas in the area. But as was the case with most of these summer interlopers, they had simply come to this remote corner of the world to spend the long, pointless day on a white sandy section of beach known to both locals and tourists alike as Voskopoula—"the shepherd's daughter."

From his abandoned village of Kastro—on the western, steeper, and more pristine side of the isle, only a few boats would anchor nearby, and infrequently. The few passengers would then row over or swim to the many hidden coves which made the area just below the castle so enchanting. It was the perfect last home and resting place for a Nereid, Doc surmised, if the elusive Maera was truly what she had told him she was that latest summer.

As with the previous seasons, June through August brought the typical adventurers—revellers and party-island tourists, showing up on their sleek and sturdy sailboats, multi-million-dollar yachts, or just the super-fast inflatables which came over noisily for the day from the mainland.

* * *

Maera had made the former professor's acquaintance early that summer, yet he had only seen her on two other occasions. Once while checking his fish traps in a tidal pool, and once more on a moonlit night when the young beauty knocked on his door but stood outside shyly. She told him then she just wanted to talk and reminisce. It had been on that very evening of storytelling in the warm night air that Doc's senses and credibility were strongly awakened to the possibility he really was in the presence of some archaic sprite. And if not a Nymph—a true daughter of Nereus--at best another scholar with almost as much knowledge of the ancient myths as he had.

Doc was out collecting eatable greens for his salads one night in that early June, just near the cliff edge when he saw the two-mast, classic schooner. It was anchored off the rocks below him. More curious about the vintage vessel itself than who might have been sailing it, he hiked further down the narrow fox trail off the headland for a better look. To his surprise, he came face to face with a group of adventurers who had apparently decided to hike up into the dense forest above their ship.

The most remarkable thing about the young, suntanned visitors to Doc's side of the island was that they were—save for the colorful backpacks each wore, completely as naked as the day they were born. This nude contingent of hikers included two rather athletically fit males—their long hair reminiscent of Rock stars, and three twenty-something females, each unflinching in their lack of modesty upon encountering the older scholar on the cliff edge.

"How are you today, Mate?" One of the young men asked upon seeing Doc awkwardly surprised.

"I'm, well . . . making my usual rounds. It's a nice time of day for this."

"It's bloody incredible!" one of the young women exclaimed. She boldly continued walking, up closer to the professor. "It's simply brill here!"

"Oh, tiz, it tiz!, Evie," another of the females responded, equally impressed by her surroundings. Both had a northern European look about them, though the shorter and youngest of the girls could have been a North African or East Indian. There's was a British accent among each of the visitors who had spoken.

"So where do ya hail from, man?" the second of the males asked.

They were all gathered round Doc now, and none seemed bothered or concerned that he was fully dressed, and each of them was strikingly naked.

"I . . . Well, I actually live here. Or . . . not far from here," Doc replied, still a bit off-guard.

"Bonkers, Man! . . . You say . . . LIVE here?" the second girl asked, putting her hand to her forehead in disbelief.

"Well, only for a couple of years now."

Doc tried to be as matter of fact as he could to the strangers, still taken aback by their state of undress.

"Well, Mate . . . you landed in Nirvana, as I see it," The taller of the men added.

He was smiling now as he spoke, putting his arm around the darker-skinned girl. She seemed unconcerned that her full bare breasts were pressed against his own bare chest.

"We're all Brits, Gov'nor," the first man weighed in. "Our second time to Greece, and yeah, the islands are cool . . . But this place? Man . . . it puts me over the moon!"

"Yes. Kalamos is quite special," Doc replied, trying to keep his eyes above the girls' waistlines.

"So, good man . . . Are ye a local bloke?" Surprisingly, this strongest accent came from the African girl.

"American. Retired. Just happy to be where it's quiet," Doc told her.

"Well quiet she is, this island, Mate," the first man weighed in. "And ye don't look old enough to be a geezer professor retired. Yer still a young man, ya know.!"

Doc smiled at the skewed compliment.

"Me name's Seth," he said. "And this ere is John, Eva, Katie and Sita."

"Hi, all . . . Doc."

"Doctor?"

"Just Doc."

"Well good man . . . Since you are a Doc . . . and rightly king of this lovely island, we invite you to that handsome ship down there . . . for a feast tonight."

"Truly a feast," John agreed. "It's Sita's turn to cook tonight, Gov'nor . . . you don't want to miss that."

"Ere-Ere!" the two taller girls shouted together and began hugging Sita affectionately. They then began to giggle like schoolgirls.

"Well I appreciate the invitation, everyone, but . . ."

"But what? Ave ya a better invitation in the big city tonight, Gov'nor?"

"No, but . . . really, guys . . ."

"Then, dinner it is! With your new, temporary neighbors ere."

Doc could see they were sincere. Being seriously cordial to him. He really did not have a good excuse to refuse the offer.

"Just give us a shout later. From the shore at sunset. Aye Doc? We'll bring you over in the dingy. You seem like a rightly bloke to appreciate a good French wine. Aye?"

Doc smiled and nodded in agreement. He then thanked them for the invitation. He had almost forgotten by then that they were all naked. And it somehow became easier to accept as they left him, walking along the trail, their tan derrieres passing into the distance, looking to be some strange, tan uniform.

* * *