passed with anxieties that would have killed weaker people. From the beginning of March 24, the storm seemed to moderate. At dawn, the clouds rose higher in the sky, and after several hours, the waterspout broke up. The wind, no longer a hurricane, changed to a brisk breeze. It was still what sailors would call “a three-reef breeze,” but it was nevertheless an improvement.
About eleven o’clock, the atmosphere became noticeably clearer and the air exuded a damp clarity that is seen and even felt after the passage of such strong weather disturbances. It did not appear that the storm had gone farther westward but had simply died out on its own, perhaps dispersed into electric strata after the breakup of its waterspout, as sometimes occurs with the typhoons of the Indian Ocean.
But it was again evident that the balloon was slowly but constantly falling. It was deflating little by little, and its envelope was elongating and distending, changing from a spherical shape to an oval.
About noon, the balloon hovered no more than 2000 feet above the sea. It contained 50,000 cubic feet of gas* and, thanks to this capacity, it had been able to remain in the air for a long time. The passengers now threw overboard the last objects that still weighed them down, several provisions they had kept, everything, even the small knick-knacks in their pockets. Helping each other, they hoisted themselves onto the ring where the ropes were attached, all the while searching for solid ground below.
It was obvious that the passengers could not keep the balloon aloft much longer. Too much gas had escaped.
They were going to die!
There was no continent, not even an island, beneath them—no place to land, no firm surface they could touch down on. There was only an immense ocean whose waves still churned with incomparable violence. It was an ocean without visible limits, even though they could see over a radius of forty miles from their height. It was a liquid plain, battered by the storm without mercy. No land in sight, not even a ship.
They had to keep the balloon, at any price, from dropping into the waves. But, despite their best efforts, the balloon kept falling, sometimes rapidly, while being carried along by the wind from northeast to southwest.
It was a terrible situation for these unfortunate men. They were no longer masters of the balloon. Their efforts had no effect. The envelope of the balloon was stretching more and more. The gas continued to escape, and they could do nothing to keep it in. Their descent was now visibly accelerating and, at one o’clock in the afternoon, the balloon was no more than 600 feet above the ocean.
By throwing out everything in the basket, the passengers were able to keep it in the air for several more hours, but the inevitable catastrophe could not be avoided. If land did not appear before nightfall, the passengers, their basket, and the balloon would no doubt disappear beneath the waves.
They now executed the only maneuver still left to them. These were energetic men who knew how to look death square in the face. Not a single murmur escaped their lips. They would struggle to the last second and do everything they could to delay their fall. The basket was only a wicker box, not intended for floating, and there was no possibility of keeping it afloat on the surface of the sea.
At two o’clock the balloon was scarcely 400 feet above the waves.
At this moment, the voice of a man whose heart knew no fear was heard. Other voices, no less energetic, answered.
“Has everything been thrown out?”
“No! We still have ten thousand francs in gold!”
A weighty sack fell at once into the sea.
“Is the balloon rising now?”
“A little, but it won’t be long before it falls again!”
“Is there anything left to throw out?”
“No!”
“Yes! … the basket!”
“Let’s hang on to the ropes and drop the basket into the sea!”
It was the only way to make the balloon lighter. The cords which connected the basket to the ring were slashed, and the balloon rose to 2000 feet. The five passengers hoisted themselves onto the ropes above the ring and, holding on to the balloon’s rigging, they looked down at the abyss below them. The aerostatic sensitivity of balloons is well known and throwing out the lightest objects suffices to induce an immediate vertical rise. The apparatus, floating in the air, behaves like a highly accurate set of scales. When a weight is removed, its displacement is significant and instantaneous. So it was on this occasion.
But after maintaining its equilibrium for an instant at a higher altitude, the balloon soon began to fall again. The gas was escaping through a tear that was impossible to repair.
The passengers had done all that they could do. No human means could save them now. They could no longer count on any help, save from God.
At four o’clock, the balloon was no more than 500 feet above the water.
A bark was heard. A dog accompanying the passengers hung on to the rigging near his master.
“Top has seen something!” shouted one of the passengers.
Then suddenly a strong voice shouted out:
“Land! Land!”
The balloon, which the wind had been carrying toward the southwest, had covered hundreds of miles since dawn, and a rather elevated land mass had appeared on the horizon in that direction.
But the land was still more than 30 miles windward. More than a full hour was needed to reach it, assuming they did not deviate from their path. One hour! Wouldn’t the balloon have lost all its gas before then?
This was the crucial question. The passengers could distinctly see this point of land that they had to reach at all costs. They did not know what it was, island or continent, because they were unaware of exactly where the storm had driven them. But they knew that they had to reach this land, inhabited or not, hospitable or not.
At four o’clock, it was obvious that the balloon could no longer stay aloft. It grazed the surface of the sea. Several times already the crests of enormous waves licked the bottom of the ropes making it still heavier. Like a bird with a wounded wing, the balloon could barely remain airborne.
A half hour later, land was only a mile away. But the balloon, now exhausted, flabby, distended, and creased with large wrinkles, had no more gas except in its uppermost canopy. The passengers, holding on to the rigging, were just too heavy for it. And soon, as it half immersed itself into the sea, they began to be battered by strong waves. The casing of the balloon made an air pocket which the wind pushed like a vessel. Perhaps they could reach the coast in this manner?
When they were only 1000 feet away, four men simultaneously cried out. The balloon, which seemed as though it would never rise again, made an unexpected bound after being struck by a large wave. As if it had lost another of its weights, it suddenly rose to a height of 1500 feet. It was swept up into a wind pocket which, instead of bringing it directly to the coast, forced it to move in an almost parallel direction. Finally, two minutes later, it approached the coast obliquely, then dropped down on the shore out of reach of the waves.
The passengers, helping one another, managed to untangle themselves
