Sit back, children, and listen to the story of three intrepid explorers. Our story begins on, just after the first ice age, but not quite before the extinction of the great animal branta canadensis, the second day of the month December to be exact.

‘Twas bitterly cold, and the wind whipped the frozen waters into a roiling cauldron of foam, but that wouldn’t daunt these brave heralds of the west.

The first was Sir Ferdinand Magellan; the Jordanian Harbour was a mere stop from his trip around the world.

Under the commission of His majesty King Manuel of Portugal, Fearless Vasco DeGama was quick to follow.

Snorri Sturluson, native to these wild lands, was the historian and poet of three. [S]he wandered along, muttering strange words like “Gylfaginning” and “Skaldskaparmal”; perhaps it was the momentous creation of yet another myth.

Entering enemy territory

The three were besought with dangers:

Hostile natives

The great beast lay stretched across the shore; valiantly conquered, no doubt in some fierce battle. Our brave explorers tiptoed by with pinched noses...

'Twas desolate land they'd found; rocky and lifeless. The very wind carried whispers of death, and the waves echoed a ceaseless refrain of peril. The intrepids christened the place "Jordanian Harbour", and having pitched the flag for Spain, Italy and Portugal, happily continued their travels to brighter vistas...