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Updated: May 17, 2025
By then, crowded with jellyfish, squid, and other devilfish, the oceans will have become huge centers of infection, because their waves will no longer possess "these huge stomachs that God has entrusted with scouring the surface of the sea." Meanwhile, without scorning these theories, the Nautilus's crew captured half a dozen manatees.
Lord knows why, but I saw a definite connection between this sick crewman and yesterday's happenings, and the mystery of those events concerned me at least as much as the man's sickness. Captain Nemo led me to the Nautilus's stern and invited me into a cabin located next to the sailors' quarters.
Looming like a long reef, the Nautilus's hull disappeared little by little, but when night fell in the midst of the waters, the ship's beacon would surely facilitate our return on board, since its rays carried with perfect distinctness. This effect is difficult to understand for anyone who has never seen light beams so sharply defined on shore.
As the Nautilus's commander had predicted, my mind was already starting to fall into that promised state of stunned amazement. "Professor," this strange man then said, "you must excuse the informality with which I receive you, and the disorder reigning in this lounge." "Sir," I replied, "without prying into who you are, might I venture to identify you as an artist?"
From this point on, it was an issue of cutting out a piece equal in surface area to the Nautilus's waterline. This meant detaching about 6,500 cubic meters, to dig a hole through which the ship could descend below this tract of ice. Work began immediately and was carried on with tireless tenacity.
And Ned Land reentered his cabin, "to keep from doing something desperate," he said as he left me. Meanwhile preparations for this daring attempt were getting under way. The Nautilus's powerful pumps forced air down into the tanks and stored it under high pressure. Near four o'clock Captain Nemo informed me that the platform hatches were about to be closed.
Just then a shell hit the Nautilus's hull obliquely, failed to breach it, ricocheted near the captain, and vanished into the sea. Captain Nemo shrugged his shoulders. Then, addressing me: "Go below!" he told me in a curt tone. "You and your companions, go below!" "Sir," I exclaimed, "are you going to attack this ship?" "Sir, I'm going to sink it." "You wouldn't!"
Captain Nemo led me to the Nautilus's stern, and passing by Ned and Conseil's cabin, I summoned my two companions, who instantly followed us. Then we arrived at a cell located within easy access of the engine room; in this cell we were to get dressed for our stroll. Strolling the Plains THIS CELL, properly speaking, was the Nautilus's arsenal and wardrobe.
Some were skillfully slain, and when cooked in a certain fashion, they make a very acceptable platter of water game. The Nautilus's nets hauled up several types of sea turtle from the hawksbill genus with arching backs whose scales are highly prized.
He told me: "We won't see each other again before we go. At ten o'clock the moon won't be up yet. We'll take advantage of the darkness. Come to the skiff. Conseil and I will be inside waiting for you." The Canadian left without giving me time to answer him. I wanted to verify the Nautilus's heading. I made my way to the lounge.
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