“Now then, when my burner’s spigot is wide open, it uses up 27 cubic feet per hour,8 and its flame is at least six times brighter than the biggest streetlights. So on an average, to keep myself at a middling altitude, I wouldn’t burn more than 9 cubic feet per hour;9 therefore my 25 gallons of water offer me 630 hours of airborne travel, or just over twenty-six days.
“And yet, since I can descend at will and replenish my water supply on the way, my journey can be of indefinite duration.
“That’s my secret, gentlemen; it’s simple, and as simple things do, it will succeed without fail. My method consists of making the gas expand and contract in my lighter-than-air vehicle, and there’s no need for clumsy wings or driving devices. A heating system to produce my changes in temperature, a burner to supply the heat—nothing that’s inconvenient or burdensome. So I believe that I’ve assembled all the prime ingredients for success.”
That was the close of Dr. Fergusson’s speech, and it was heartily applauded. There wasn’t a single objection to be raised; everything had been anticipated and resolved.
“Even so,” the commander said, “there could be some dangers.”
“If it works,” the doctor merely replied, “who cares?”
chapter 11
Arriving in Zanzibar—the English consul—hostile reception by the natives—Koumbeni Island—the rainmakers—inflating the balloon—departure on April 18—final farewell—the Victoria.
A continually favorable wind meant that the Resolute made excellent time to her port of destination. The Mozambique Channel was especially smooth sailing. This trip through the waves was a good omen for their trip through the clouds. Everybody was eager for the moment when they would arrive and put the finishing touches on Dr. Fergusson’s preparations.
Finally the vessel came in sight of Zanzibar, the town located on the island of the same name, and at eleven o’clock in the morning on April 15, she dropped anchor in the harbor.
The island of Zanzibar belongs to the Imam of Muscat, an ally of France and England, and it’s clearly his prize colony. The harbor welcomes a large number of ships from neighboring regions.
The island is separated from Africa’s coast by a channel, no more than thirty miles across1 at its widest point.
It does a booming business in gum, ivory, and especially “ebony,” because Zanzibar is the leading slave market. This is the gathering place for all the conquered booty from the battles continually indulged in by chieftains inland. This trafficking in humanity also extends along the entire east coast, even up to the latitudes of the Nile, and Monsieur G. Lejean has seen this trade openly carried on under the flag of France.
As soon as the Resolute arrived, the English consul in Zanzibar came on board to put himself at the doctor’s disposal, since, over the past month, European newspapers had kept him up to date on Fergusson’s plans. But until then he had belonged to the sizable phalanx of the skeptical.
View of Zanzibar
“I had my doubts,” he said, holding out his hand to Samuel Fergusson, “but not anymore.”
He offered his own home to the doctor, Dick Kennedy, and of course our gallant Joe.
As a further kindness, he acquainted the doctor with various letters he had received from Captain Speke. The captain and his companions had suffered dreadfully from hunger and foul weather before reaching the country of Ugogo; they found it tremendously difficult to make any headway and no longer thought they could send back news in a timely manner.
“Those are perils and hardships we’ll be able to avoid,” the doctor said.
The three travelers had their baggage transferred to the consul’s home. The crew got ready to unload the balloon on the beach in Zanzibar; there was a promising location next to the signal mast and near an enormous edifice that would shelter it from easterly winds. It was a huge tower shaped like an upended barrel—the Heidelberg cask is a humble keg by comparison—and it functioned as a citadel with Balochi enforcers carrying lances and standing watch on its platform, a gang of noisy idlers.
But as they were about to unload the lighter-than-air vehicle, the consul learned that the local population would oppose this move by force. Nothing is blinder than fanatical fervor. The island chafed at the news that a Christian had arrived and meant to ascend into the skies; Negroes were more perturbed than Arabs and viewed the scheme as intentionally hostile to their religion; it looked to them as if somebody had designs on the sun and moon. Now then, those two heavenly bodies are subjects of veneration for African tribes. So they were determined to oppose this sacrilegious expedition.
Alerted to these developments, the consul, Dr. Fergusson, and Commander Pennet put their heads together. The seaman didn’t want to retreat in the face of these threats; but his friend made him listen to reason on the matter.
“We’ll definitely prevail in the end,” he told him. “Even the imam’s enforcers will lend us a hand if need be; yet, my dear commander, accidents can happen in a second; one piece of mischief could be enough to cause irreversible damage to the balloon, and our journey could be jeopardized beyond repair; so we must proceed with great caution.”
“But what can we do? If we go ashore on the African mainland, we’ll run into the same difficulties! What can we do?”
“Nothing could be simpler,” the consul answered. “Look at those islands located beyond the harbor; unload your vehicle on one of them, put a cordon of sailors around her, and you’ll be out of harm’s way.”
“Perfect,” the doctor said, “and we’ll complete our preparations at our leisure.”
The commander went along with this advice. The Resolute drew up to Koumbeni Island. During the morning of April 16, they put the balloon in a place of safety inside a clearing among the big trees that dot this landscape.
They stood two masts on end, 80 feet high and positioned the same distance from each other; sets of pulleys were attached to the tips of these, able to raise the lighter-than-air vehicle with the help of a crosswise cable; at that juncture the balloon was completely deflated. Fastened to the top of the outer envelope, the inner one would be lifted up along with it.
They fitted the two intake pipes for the hydrogen into the lower appendix2 of each balloon.
They spent the day of the 17th setting up the mechanism designed to produce the gas; it consisted of thirty barrels in which a large amount of water was broken down by mixing in scrap iron and sulfuric acid. Getting washed as it went, the hydrogen made its way into a huge central cask, from there entering each envelope by the intake pipes. In this fashion each of them got filled with an accurately measured amount of gas.
For this operation it was necessary to employ 1,866 gallons of sulfuric acid, 16,050 pounds of iron,3 and 9,166 gallons of water.4
The operation got under way the following night around three o’clock in the morning; it went on for nearly eight hours. The next day, complete with her netting, the lighter-than-air vehicle swayed gracefully above her gondola, held down by a good
