The boat flows smoothly forward.

[Tunnel of Sorrow]
Here and there, wan sunlight pierces the decaying leaf canopy to waken oily rainbows of color on the surface of the stream that carries the boats. There is an odd beauty to the colors and patterns, but the sun's faint heat brings out a gagging cacophony of smells from things better left unknown and even the oily patches themselves give off a vile scent as of stale grease.
Obvious exits: none.