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died, age manifesting itself only in the depths of their eyes and by their lilting voices turning old and crabby.
     

    They were deeply afraid of and despised the squids and sharks that lived in the water surrounding their island, and oftentimes they played mean pranks on them or killed them for fun. They sat by their fire and ravenously ate shellfish and lobster, the while smoke from the fire spiraling upward much like their horns. They also made simple smoke rings and jumped through them or made interlocking rings that rose high in the sky and dissolved.
     
    They tried to convince the old woman, who was then a child, to be their daughter, but after two weeks she still cried and missed her home on land. They kindly repaired her boat and with kisses, wreaths of kelp, and fond farewells, led her back to shore.
     

    The old woman told this story for many years and would readily tell anyone who cared to listen. Young boys who grew to be sailors longingly gazed at the glow on the ocean and the strange circular clouds arising from nowhere to surround the moon. Some said they heard the songs of these women while they sailed, but no one had ever really seen them.
     
    One night as large cargo ship loaded with precious spices and jewels sailed past the vicinity where the island was supposedly located, something hit the ship so hard, the boat almost capsized. Large tentacles reached over the bow of the ship, grabbed some of the sailors on board, and dragged them screaming into the ocean. It was then they realized a giant squid had attacked the ship.
     

    It eventually dragged the entire ship into the ocean. A few men struggled to remain on the surface, but in the end all lost their battle with death.
     
    The boat later resurfaced and floated aimlessly on its side, the valuable cargo now rattling worthlessly inside the hull. After a couple of months, it bumped into an island and washed ashore.
     
    That evening several white luminous figures dragged themselves out of the ocean toward the ship, talking among themselves in low hushed voices as they examined the ruins and cargo within. This escalated into exclamations of joy as they soon found one treasure after another. Soon the island was covered by sirens dripping in glistening, luxurious jewels, lounging and eating their lobster off silver-embossed platters as they wove pearls into each other’s hair--the pearls imitating and highlighting the whiteness there as they gazed at themselves in their new-found silver hand mirrors.
     

    The sirens had never seen this many incredible earthly belongings before, and it gave them a lust for more. Their favorite treasures were the telescope and compass. Fights broke out as to who should own them, but the conflict was settled in a lady-like way when one siren acquired both in a bet. After they divided the remaining treasures, the sirens focused on the ship, which they promptly set to rebuild. They worked for hours, the last touch being the replacement of the figurehead they unknowingly made in their image. Laughing all the while, they placed a crown of shells in her waving wooden locks. They planned to set sail the following twilight.
     
    The first ship they came across was much smaller than theirs and not much cargo was to be had, but they stole what there was with relish, leaving the crew tied to the mast. The next day they came across a larger craft. The sailors on board fought well but the sirens won with a vengeance and victoriously carried the cargo back to the island.
     

    Soon the story spread of beautiful, strange women, glowing white like ghosts with long tapered  horns, killing sailors with swords and stealing the booty. Some laughed and claimed the victims were mad, making up stories to glorify their loss; others believed the women were actually ghosts and tried to anoint their ships with spells and charms for good luck. Either way, no one ever caught the siren ship, and you can still see the strange luminous lights from the