124Far out in the sea, opposite the foaming shore, there is a rock which at times is submerged and pounded by swelling waves, when the wintry north-westers hide the stars; 127in calm it is silent, and rises from the still water as a level field, a most welcome resting place for sun-loving sea-birds. 129Here father Aeneas set up a green turning post of leafy holm-oak as a mark for the sailors, so that they might know where to turn back and where to wheel round on their long course. 132Then they choose their places by lot, and on the sterns the captains themselves gleam far off, splendid in gold and purple; 134the rest of the crews are crowned with poplar leaves, and their bare shoulders glisten, drenched with oil.
136They take their seats on the benches, and their arms are stretched to the oars; 137tense, they wait for the signal, and throbbing fear and an eager desire for glory drain their leaping hearts. 139Then, when the trumpet gave its clear sound, all shot forward from their places without delay; 140the sailors' shout strikes the sky, the waters foam, churned by arms drawn back. 142They cleave their furrows side by side, and the whole sea gapes open, torn up by oars and three-pronged beaks. 144Not so headlong in the two-horse race do chariots seize the plain and rush pouring from the starting gate, nor do charioteers so shake the rippling reins over their teams let loose, leaning forward over the lash.
148Then the whole grove resounds with the applause and roar of men and the cheers of their supporters, the enclosed shores roll the sound, and the hills, struck by the shouting, echo back.