The first blow was to be struck at the earliest possible date. Even before the end of the stormy winter break, if at all feasible in early March, Agrippa would sail south more than five hundred miles to the Peloponnese, the southern half of Greece. His objective was to attack and capture the strongly defended fort of Methone. From this base he would then try to pick off Antony’s other garrisons along the Greek coast.
Two outcomes from this raid were envisaged. First, the supply line to Egypt would be cut and Antony’s soldiers and sailors would soon be short of food. The time pressure would be reversed. Second, Antony would have to send warships against Agrippa and in doing so would weaken his naval garrisons.
The next step would be for Octavian to transport his forces from Brundisium to somewhere near the Via Egnatia in the north, then to march south at once with all speed to corner Antony and prevent him from moving his army out of the confined area of Actium into central Greece, where he would be free to harass and perhaps outmaneuver Octavian.
This was a hugely daring plan, for it meant moving a fleet across open seas (presumably, if it was not to be detected it could not hug the coast) and risking the catastrophe of a Mediterranean storm. As it turned out, the enterprise was crowned with total success, although we do not have the details or the exact sequence of events. Methone fell and Octavian immediately, and without any kind of trouble from either the enemy or the weather, transferred the main part of his army across the Adriatic Sea, landing somewhere between the Via Egnatia and Corcyra—perhaps at Panormus (today’s Palermo in Albania).
The first news of these events to reach Antony and Cleopatra at their headquarters was that the enemy held a small place some miles north of Actium called Toryne, the Greek word for ladle. It was a sign of the nervousness of the high command at Patrae that the queen cracked a seriously bad joke to mask the general consternation: “What is so terrible about Caesar Octavian having got hold of a ladle?”
When Octavian arrived at Actium, he made camp on the northern promontory. He found an ideal spot, a hill today called Mikhalitzi about five miles north of the channel into the Ambracian Gulf. Four hundred feet high, it commanded good views all around. Immediately to the south lay enough flat ground for a battle, should that be called for.
The site had two disadvantages. First, it had no weatherproof harbor, only the nearby bay of Comaros, which was open to western gales even after a protective breakwater was constructed (traces of which survive). Walls were built down to the beach from the camp to guard against surprise attack by land. Second, water had to be brought in, either from the river Louros, a mile and a quarter or so to the northeast, or from a couple of springs on the southern plain.
Soon after his arrival, Octavian drew up his fleet in open water and offered battle, but the enemy, undermanned and performing poorly, wisely declined to come out of safe anchorage. Antony was having trouble recruiting oarsmen and retaining them. Plutarch claims that he was so short of men that his warship captains were “press-ganging travellers, muledrivers, reapers, and boys not yet of military age from the exhausted provinces of Greece.”
Antony arrived from Patrae in a couple of days, together with Cleopatra, who lived with him in the camp. He transported his army from Actium to the northern peninsula—this may have been at the end of April—and built a new camp facing Octavian’s. He was ready and eager for battle.
But Octavian was no longer looking for a fight, for the indispensable and indefatigable Agrippa had captured the island of Leucas, giving him a safe harbor on Antony’s doorstep and making it extremely difficult for supply ships from Egypt—which would already have run the gauntlet up the west coast of Greece—to gain entry to Actium.
This was a terrible blow. Provisions ran very short and Antony had to break the stranglehold. The longer he waited, the stronger Octavian, with safe logistical support from Italy, would become; by the same token, Antony’s position could only deteriorate. He needed to deprive the enemy of water. He took control of the springs in the plain beneath Mikhalitzi without difficulty and sent a strong force of cavalry on the long trek around the Ambracian Gulf to establish itself above the enemy camp and thereby cut off access to the Louros. But Octavian’s able general Titus Statilius Taurus launched a sudden, vigorous counterattack and drove off Antony’s horse. One of the eastern client kings took the opportunity to desert.