of the sea! The Nautilus is the ship of ships, sir. And if it is true that the engineer has more confidence in the vessel than the constructor, and the constructor more than the captain himself, you will understand with what confidence I trust to my Nautilus, as I am at the same time captain, constructor, and engineer.’
Captain Nemo spoke with captivating eloquence. His fiery look and passionate gestures transfigured him. Yes! he did love his vessel like a father loves his child.
‘But how could you construct this admirable Nautilus in secret?’
‘I had each separate portion made in different parts of the globe, and it reached me through a disguised address. The keel was forged at Creuzot, the shaft of the screw at Penn and Co.’s, of London; the iron plates of the hull at Laird’s, of Liverpool; the screw itself at Scott’s, of Glasgow. Its reservoirs were made by Cail and Co., of Paris; the engine by the Prussian Krupp; the prow in Motala’s workshop in Sweden; the mathematical instruments by Hart Brothers, of New York, etc.; all of these people had my orders under different names.’
‘But how did you get all the parts put together?’
‘I set up a workshop upon a desert island in the ocean. There, my workmen – that is to say, my brave companions whom I instructed – and I put together our Nautilus. When the work was ended, fire destroyed all trace of our proceedings on the island, which I should have blown up if I could.’
‘It must have cost you a great deal.’
‘An iron vessel costs £45 a ton. The Nautilus weighs 1500 tons. It came, therefore, to £67,500, and £80,000 more for fitting up; altogether, with the works of art and collections it contains, it cost about £200,000.’
‘You must be rich?’
‘Immensely rich, sir; I could, without missing it, pay the English national debt.’
I stared at the singular person who spoke. Was he taking advantage of my credulity?
The Pacific Ocean extends from north to south between the two polar circles, and from west to east between Asia and America over an extent of 145° of longitude. It is the smoothest of all seas; its currents are wide and slow, its tides slight, its rains abundant. Such was the ocean that my destiny called upon me to go over under such strange conditions.
‘Now, professor,’ said Captain Nemo, ‘we will, if you please, take our bearings and fix the starting-point of this voyage. It wants a quarter to twelve. I am going up to the surface of the water.’
The captain pressed an electric bell three times. The pumps began to drive the water out of the reservoirs; the needle of the manometer marked by the different pressures the ascensional movement of the Nautilus, then it stopped.
‘We have arrived,’ said the captain.
We went to the central staircase which led up to the platform, climbed the iron steps, and found ourselves on the top of the Nautilus.
The platform was only three feet out of the water. The front and back of the Nautilus were of that spindle shape which caused it justly to be compared to a cigar. I noticed that its iron plates slightly overlaid each other, like the scales on the body of our large terrestrial reptiles. I well understood how, in spite of the best glasses, this boat should have been taken for a marine animal.
Towards the middle of the platform, the boat, half sunk in the vessel, formed a slight excrescence. Fore and aft rose two cages of medium height, with inclined sides, and partly enclosed by thick lenticular glasses. In the one was the helmsman who directed the Nautilus; and in the other a powerful electric lantern that lighted up his course.
The sea was beautiful, the sky pure. The long vessel could hardly feel the broad undulations of the ocean. A slight breeze from the east rippled the surface of the water. The horizon was quite clear, making observation easy. There was nothing in sight – not a rock nor an island, no Abraham Lincoln, nothing but a waste of waters.
Captain Nemo took the altitude of the sun with his sextant to get his latitude. He waited some minutes till the planet came on a level with the edge of the horizon. Whilst he was observing, not one of his muscles moved, and the instrument would not have been more motionless in a hand of marble.
‘It is noon. Professor, when you are ready –’
I cast a last look at the sea, slightly yellowed by the Japanese coast, and went down again to the saloon.
There the captain made his point, and calculated his longitude chronometrically, which he controlled by preceding observations of horary angles. Then he said to me, –
‘M. Aronnax, we are in west longitude 137° 15.’
‘By what meridian?’ I asked quickly, hoping that the captain’s answer might indicate his nationality.
‘Sir,’ he answered, ‘I have different chronometers regulated on the meridians of Paris, Greenwich, and Washington. But, in your honour, I will use the Paris one.’
This answer taught me nothing. I bowed, and the commander continued, –
‘Thirty-seven degrees and fifteen minutes longitude west of the Paris meridian, and thirty degrees and seven minutes north latitude – that is to say, about three hundred miles from the coasts of Japan. Today, the 8th of November, at noon, our voyage of exploration under the waters begins.’
‘God preserve us!’ I answered.
‘And now, professor,’ added the captain, ‘I leave you to your studies. I have given ENE. as our route at a depth of fifty yards. Here are maps on which you can follow it. The saloon is at your disposition, and I ask your permission to withdraw.’
Captain Nemo bowed to me. I remained alone, absorbed in my thoughts. All of them referred to the commander of the Nautilus. Should I ever know to what nation belonged the strange man who boasted of belonging to none? This hatred which he had vowed to humanity – this hatred which perhaps sought terrible means of revenge – what had provoked it? I, whom hazard had just cast upon his vessel – I, whose life he held in his hands, he had received me coldly, but with hospitality. Only he had never taken the hand I had held out to him. He had never held out his to me.
For a whole hour I remained buried in these reflections, seeking to pierce the mystery that interested me so greatly. Then my eyes fell upon the vast planisphere on the table, and I placed my finger on the very spot where the given latitude and longitude crossed.
The sea has its large rivers like continents. They are special currents, known by their temperature and colour. The most remarkable is known under the name of the Gulf Stream. Science has found out the direction of five principal currents – one in the North Atlantic, a second in the South Atlantic, a third in the North Pacific, a fourth in the South Pacific, and a fifth in the South Indian Ocean. It is probable that a sixth current formerly existed in the North Indian Ocean, when the Caspian and Aral Seas, united to the great Asiatic lakes, only formed one vast sheet of water.
At the point on the planisphere where my finger lay, one of these currents was rolling – the Black River of the Japanese, which, leaving the Gulf of Bengal,
