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Updated: May 5, 2025
"We can plug her seams, all right," said Steve, "and by keeping a pump going get to port, if we can only get her off the beach. But I can't, for the life of me, see how we're going to do that. Her bow's settled a foot deep in sand and it's piled up along this side of her. Even her propeller's buried!" "Not very much," said Joe. "If we start her she'll kick it away in a minute."
The craft shot backward. There followed a sickening grind which could only tell of interference with the propeller. Too quick a reverse had sent it against the ice astern. Shutting off all power, Dave allowed her to rise silently to the surface. Then, as silently, one member of the crew opened the hatch and they all filed out. "Propeller's still there," breathed one of the gobs in relief.
"The life preservers, you mean?" almost whispered Grace. A fearful lurch of the boat caused the whole party to cling desperately to the supports. Before he could answer a ship's officer came scudding down below. "Captain Shadburn says that every one is to prepare for the worst. The propeller's smashed and we can't live in this sea. Be quick!" cried the pale-faced sailor, hurrying onward.
He glanced at the begrimed faces of the Saigon's wild and ghastly looking company, and beyond them for a moment, then stumbled over the coal, followed by Sievers, until he was brought up by the iron partition of the hold. He made, however, straight for the bulkhead, and stooping down, held the candle close to the line of bolts covering the propeller's tunnel. "By Jingo!" cried Sievers.
The log indicated a moderate speed, the pressure gauge a depth of about sixty feet. So circumstances were in favor of the Canadian's plans. I stayed in my stateroom. I dressed warmly: fishing boots, otter cap, coat of fan-mussel fabric lined with sealskin. I was ready. I was waiting. Only the propeller's vibrations disturbed the deep silence reigning on board. I cocked an ear and listened.
The same inadequate light, the same solitude. I went to man my post near the door opening into the well of the central companionway. I waited for Ned Land's signal. At this point the propeller's vibrations slowed down appreciably, then they died out altogether. Why was the Nautilus stopping? Whether this layover would help or hinder Ned Land's schemes I couldn't have said.
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