The oceans cover a huge part of our planet. Scientists estimate that the total area covered by water is more than eighty million acres. All this water forms a massive body of liquid, containing around two billion two hundred and fifty million cubic miles. If gathered together, it would create a sphere about sixty leagues in diameter, weighing an unbelievable three quintillion tons.
To understand such numbers, one must know that a quintillion is to a billion what a billion is to one. In other words, a quintillion contains as many billions as a billion contains single units. The amount of water in the oceans is almost equal to the water that all the rivers on Earth would pour into the sea over forty thousand years.
Long ago, during the early ages of the Earth, the oceans covered almost everything. Later, as the planet changed, the land slowly rose from the water. During the Silurian period, the tops of mountains began to appear, islands emerged, disappeared beneath floods, and rose again. Over time, these islands became permanent, joined together, and formed the continents we know today.
Little by little, the solid land took possession of part of the planet from the endless oceans. The continents now cover about thirty-seven million six hundred and fifty-seven square miles, leaving the rest of the globe to the waters.
The shape of the continents divides the world’s oceans into five great regions: the Arctic Ocean, the Antarctic Ocean, the Indian Ocean, the Atlantic Ocean, and the Pacific Ocean.
The Pacific stretches from the north to the south between the two polar circles, and from east to west between Asia and America. It covers a vast area of about 145 degrees of longitude. Compared with other seas, it is the calmest. Its currents move slowly and steadily, its tides are moderate, and rainfall is abundant.
This was the ocean across which my strange fate had chosen to carry me.
“Sir,” said Captain Nemo, “if you are ready, we shall determine our exact position and mark the beginning of our journey. It is a quarter before twelve. I will rise to the surface.”
The Captain pressed an electric button three times.
Immediately, the pumps began forcing water out of the tanks. The needle of the pressure gauge moved slowly, showing that the Nautilus was rising toward the surface.
Then it stopped.
“We have arrived,” said Captain Nemo.
I walked toward the central staircase that led to the platform above. I climbed the iron steps and soon found myself standing on top of the Nautilus.
The platform rose only about three feet above the water.
The front and rear of the submarine had the smooth, pointed shape of a spindle, making it easy to understand why people had mistaken it for some strange sea creature. The iron plates covering its body overlapped slightly, much like the scales protecting the skin of large reptiles.
Its appearance truly explained why even experienced observers might believe the Nautilus was a living animal.
Near the center of the platform was the small boat, partly hidden inside the body of the submarine, creating only a slight bump on the surface.
At the front and back stood two small towers with sloping sides. They were partly covered with thick glass shaped like lenses. One contained the controls where the helmsman guided the Nautilus. The other held a powerful lamp that illuminated the path ahead.
The sea was calm and beautiful. The sky was perfectly clear. The huge submarine barely felt the gentle movement of the waves.
A light wind from the east brushed across the surface of the ocean. The horizon was free of mist, making observation easy.
Nothing could be seen anywhere.
No island.
No reef.
No piece of land.
Only an endless ocean.
Captain Nemo took out his sextant and measured the height of the sun to calculate our position. He waited patiently until the sun’s edge touched the horizon.
While making his observations, he remained completely still. The instrument in his hand seemed as steady as if it were held by a statue.
Captain Nemo measured the sun’s position
“Twelve o’clock, sir,” he said. “Whenever you are ready.”
I gave one final glance at the sea, its surface slightly colored by the distant Japanese coast, and then followed him back down into the saloon.
“And now, sir, I will leave you to your studies,” said Captain Nemo.
“Our course is east-northeast, and we are twenty-six fathoms below the surface. Here are detailed maps so that you may follow our route. The saloon is yours to use. With your permission, I shall leave you.”
Captain Nemo bowed politely and disappeared.
I remained alone, my thoughts completely occupied by this mysterious man who commanded the Nautilus.
For an entire hour, I sat there thinking about him, trying to understand the secret behind his extraordinary life.
Then my eyes fell upon the large map spread across the table.
I placed my finger on the exact point where our latitude and longitude met.
The sea, like the continents, has its own great rivers. These are powerful ocean currents, recognized by their temperature and color.
The most famous of these is the Gulf Stream.
Scientists have identified five major ocean currents around the world: one in the North Atlantic, one in the South Atlantic, one in the North Pacific, one in the South Pacific, and one in the southern Indian Ocean.
There may even have once been another great current in the northern Indian Ocean, when the Caspian Sea and the Aral Sea were still connected as one enormous body of water.
At the location marked on the map, one of these great currents was flowing.
It was the Kuro-Scivo, the famous “Black River” of Japan.
Beginning near the Gulf of Bengal, where tropical sunlight warms its waters, this current passes through the Strait of Malacca, follows the coast of Asia, and moves northward across the Pacific toward the Aleutian Islands.
Along its path, it carries pieces of camphor trees and other natural materials from the lands it passes.
Its warm blue waters color the surrounding ocean with a deep indigo shade.
This was the current that the Nautilus planned to follow.
I traced its path with my eyes as it disappeared into the vast Pacific.
For a moment, I felt as if I were being carried away with it.
Just then, Ned Land and Conseil appeared at the door of the saloon.
My two companions stood frozen in amazement at the wonders surrounding them.
“Where are we?” cried the Canadian. “Are we inside the museum at Quebec?”
“My friends,” I replied, inviting them inside, “you are not in Canada. You are aboard the Nautilus, fifty yards beneath the surface of the ocean.”
“But, M. Aronnax,” said Ned Land, “can you tell me how many men are on this ship? Ten? Twenty? Fifty? A hundred?”
“I cannot answer that, Mr. Land,” I said.
“For the moment, it would be better to forget any attempt to capture the Nautilus or escape from it. This vessel is a masterpiece of modern engineering, and I would regret leaving it without studying its wonders.”
“Many people would willingly accept our situation just to experience such a place.”
“So let us remain calm and observe what happens around us.”
“Observe?” shouted the harpooner.
“How can we observe anything in this iron prison? We are moving through the ocean completely blind!”
No sooner had Ned finished speaking than darkness suddenly filled the room.
The glowing ceiling disappeared so quickly that my eyes hurt from the sudden change.
We stood silently, unable to move, wondering what surprise was coming next.
Would it be something wonderful?
Or something dangerous?
A strange sliding sound echoed through the submarine.
It seemed as though panels along the sides of the Nautilus were opening.
“This is the end of everything!” muttered Ned Land.
Then, suddenly, light poured into the saloon from both sides.
Two long windows had opened.
Beyond them was the ocean, brilliantly illuminated by electric light.
Only two sheets of crystal separated us from the sea.
At first, I felt a sudden fear. What if these fragile-looking windows broke?
But strong copper frames surrounded them, giving them incredible strength.
Through the glass, we could see the ocean clearly for a distance of nearly a mile around the Nautilus.
What a magnificent sight!
No words could truly describe it.
The electric light passed through the transparent water, revealing layers of the ocean with endless shades of color, from the deepest darkness below to the brighter waters above.
Everyone knows that seawater can be remarkably clear. In some places, especially near the Caribbean islands, people can see the sandy ocean floor from seventy-five fathoms below.
Sunlight can penetrate the sea to depths of around one hundred and fifty fathoms.
But here inside the Nautilus, the electric light reached even deeper into the ocean.
The water itself seemed to glow.
It was no longer simply an illuminated sea.
It had become a world made of liquid light.
On both sides of the saloon, windows opened into an unknown underwater universe.
The darkness inside the room made the bright scene outside appear even more beautiful.
We stared through the crystal walls as if we were looking into the largest aquarium ever created.
“You wanted to see, my friend Ned,” I said. “Well, now you can see.”
“Remarkable… absolutely remarkable,” whispered the Canadian.
For a moment, he forgot his anger. The sight before him seemed impossible to resist.
“One would travel very far just to witness something like this.”
I thought to myself:
“Now I understand Captain Nemo. He has created a separate world for himself, a place where he can collect and protect all the wonders he loves.”
For two hours, a living army of sea creatures followed the Nautilus.
They raced alongside us, moving with incredible speed and beauty.
Among them, I recognized green wrasses, striped mullets with black lines along their bodies, white gobies covered with violet spots, Japanese mackerel with blue bodies and silver heads, bright blue azurors, colorful spares with yellow and blue fins, and sea woodcocks, some nearly a yard long.
There were also Japanese salamanders, spider lampreys, and long sea serpents nearly six feet in length, with small bright eyes and enormous mouths filled with sharp teeth.
Many other unknown species surrounded us as well.
Our excitement grew with every passing moment.
Ned named the fish he recognized.
Conseil classified them scientifically.
I could only admire their graceful movements and extraordinary beauty.
Never before had I been able to observe these creatures alive, free, and moving naturally in their own world.
I cannot describe every species that passed before my eyes. The waters of China and Japan seemed to have gathered their entire collection before us.
These fish were more numerous than birds in the sky.
No doubt they were attracted by the brilliant electric light of the Nautilus.
Suddenly, daylight returned to the saloon.
The metal panels closed again, hiding the underwater world from our eyes.
The incredible vision disappeared.
For a long time afterward, I remained lost in thought.
Then I looked at the instruments fixed to the wall.
The compass still showed our direction as north-northeast.
The pressure gauge showed five atmospheres, meaning we were about twenty-five fathoms below the surface.
The electric speed indicator showed that the Nautilus was traveling at fifteen miles per hour.
I expected Captain Nemo to return, but he did not appear.
The clock showed five o’clock.
Ned Land and Conseil returned to their cabin.
I went back to my own room.
Dinner was waiting.
It consisted of turtle soup made from the finest hawksbill turtles, red mullet served with delicate pastry, with a specially prepared liver that was unbelievably delicious, and fillets of emperor angelfish whose flavor seemed even better than salmon.
That evening, I spent my time reading, writing, and thinking.
At last, sleep overcame me.
I lay down on my bed made of sea grass and soon fell into a deep sleep.
Meanwhile, the Nautilus continued rushing forward, carried swiftly along by the waters of the Black River.