The next day was November 9th.
I woke up after sleeping for twelve full hours. Conseil came in, as usual, to ask how I had slept and whether he could help me with anything.
He told me that Ned Land was still sleeping soundly, like a man who had never done anything else in his life.
I let the good fellow talk as much as he wanted. I barely listened, because my thoughts were elsewhere.
I was still wondering why Captain Nemo had not appeared during our conversation the previous day. I hoped that I would finally see him today.
As soon as I dressed, I went into the grand saloon.
It was completely empty.
To pass the time, I began studying the treasures of shells displayed behind the glass cases.
I also spent hours looking through large collections of dried marine plants. Even though they had lost their freshness, they still kept their beautiful colors.
Among these rare sea plants, I noticed many kinds of algae: tiny vorticella, elegant pavonaria, delicate red ceramiums, fan-shaped agarics, and flat mushroom-like plants that had once been mistaken for animals.
It was a complete collection of sea vegetation.
The entire day passed, and Captain Nemo never came to see me.
The panels of the saloon remained closed.
Perhaps the Captain did not want us to become tired of seeing these wonderful collections.
The Nautilus continued moving northeast by east at a speed of twelve knots.
It remained between twenty-five and thirty fathoms below the surface.
The next day, November 10th, brought the same silence and loneliness.
I did not see a single member of the crew.
Ned and Conseil spent most of the day with me, and they were just as puzzled as I was by the Captain’s strange absence.
Was this mysterious man sick?
Had he changed his mind about us?
Still, as Conseil pointed out, we were enjoying complete freedom inside the submarine.
We were treated with great care, given excellent food, and our host had kept his promise.
We had no real reason to complain.
Besides, our unusual situation had already given us so many extraordinary experiences that we could not judge it too quickly.
That day, I began writing a journal of our adventures.
Thanks to that record, I would later be able to describe everything with the greatest accuracy and detail.
I wrote it on paper made from Zostera marina, a type of sea grass.
November 11th — A Strange Morning on the Surface
Early that morning, the fresh air flowing through the interior of the Nautilus told me that we had risen to the surface to renew our oxygen supply.
I immediately went toward the central staircase and climbed up to the platform.
It was six o’clock.
The sky was covered with clouds. The sea was gray but peaceful.
There was hardly a wave.
I wondered if Captain Nemo would be waiting there.
But no one appeared.
The only person I saw was the helmsman, sitting inside his glass cabin.
I sat on the raised part of the submarine’s hull and happily breathed in the salty ocean air.
Slowly, the fog began to disappear under the warmth of the sun.
The bright sun rose above the eastern horizon.
The sea seemed to catch fire beneath its rays, sparkling like a trail of burning powder.
The clouds high above were painted with beautiful colors, and long thin clouds called “mare’s tails” stretched across the sky, warning of wind later that day.
But what could a storm mean to the Nautilus?
This submarine feared neither wind nor waves.
I was admiring this beautiful sunrise when I heard footsteps approaching.
I thought Captain Nemo was coming.
I prepared to greet him.
But instead, it was his second-in-command, the same officer I had seen during the Captain’s first visit.
He stepped onto the platform without seeming to notice me.
Holding a powerful telescope to his eye, he carefully examined every direction of the horizon.
After finishing his inspection, he walked to the entrance panel and spoke a strange sentence.
I remembered it clearly because the same thing happened every morning afterward.
He said:
“Nautron respoc lorni virch.”
I had no idea what those words meant.
After saying them, the officer went back down.
I thought the Nautilus was about to return beneath the sea, so I followed and went back to my cabin.
For five days, nothing changed.
Every morning, I climbed to the platform.
Every morning, the same officer appeared.
Every morning, he repeated the same mysterious words.
But Captain Nemo never showed himself.
I had almost decided that I would never see him again.
Then, on November 16th, when I returned to my room with Ned and Conseil, I found a letter waiting on my table.
I opened it immediately.
The handwriting was strong and clear, with sharp letters that reminded me of German writing.
The message read:
November 16th, 1867
To Professor Aronnax, on board the Nautilus
Captain Nemo invites Professor Aronnax to join a hunting expedition tomorrow morning in the forests of Crespo Island.
He hopes nothing will prevent the Professor from attending and will be pleased if his companions join him.
Captain Nemo
Commander of the Nautilus
“A hunt!” shouted Ned.
“And in the forests of Crespo Island!” added Conseil.
“So the gentleman is going onto land?” Ned asked.
“That seems obvious,” I replied, reading the letter again.
“Well, we must accept,” said Ned.
“Once we are back on solid ground, we will know what to do.”
“And I certainly won’t complain about eating some fresh venison.”
I did not try to solve the contradiction between Captain Nemo’s hatred of continents and islands and his invitation to hunt on one.
Instead, I simply said:
“First, let us find out where Crespo Island is.”
I checked the map.
At latitude 32°40′ north and longitude 157°50′ west, I found a small island discovered in 1801 by Captain Crespo.
Old Spanish maps called it Rocca de la Plata, meaning “Silver Rock.”
We were about eighteen hundred miles from where our journey had begun, and the Nautilus had slightly changed direction, now moving back toward the southeast.
I showed my companions the tiny island lost in the middle of the North Pacific.
“If Captain Nemo really does sometimes go onto land,” I said, “he certainly chooses deserted places.”
Ned only shrugged.
Neither he nor Conseil replied.
They left me alone.
After dinner, which was served by the silent and expressionless steward, I went to bed feeling uneasy.
A Journey Beneath the Sea
The next morning, November 17th, I woke up and immediately noticed that the Nautilus was completely still.
I dressed quickly and entered the saloon.
Captain Nemo was there waiting for me.
He stood up, bowed politely, and asked:
“Are you ready to accompany me?”
He did not mention his absence during the previous eight days, so I did not bring it up either.
I simply replied:
“My companions and I are ready to follow you.”
We entered the dining room, where breakfast had already been prepared.
Captain Nemo said:
“Professor Aronnax, please share my breakfast without ceremony. We can talk while we eat.”
“Although I promised you a walk through the forest, I never promised there would be hotels waiting for us there.”
“So you should eat like a man who probably will not have another meal until very late.”
I gladly accepted the meal.
It consisted of several types of fish, slices of sea cucumbers, and different kinds of seaweed.
Our drink was pure water mixed with a few drops of a fermented liquid made from Rhodomenia palmata, a seaweed prepared using a method from Kamchatka.
Captain Nemo ate silently at first.
Then he finally spoke.
“Professor Aronnax, when I invited you to hunt in my underwater forest near Crespo Island, you probably thought I had lost my mind.”
“Professor, one should never judge another person too quickly.”
“But Captain—”
“Please listen first. Then you can decide whether I have truly been foolish or contradictory.”
“I am listening.”
“You know as well as I do that humans can live underwater if they carry enough breathable air with them.”
“In underwater construction work, workers wear waterproof suits and metal helmets. Air is supplied from above through pumps and tubes.”
“That is a diving suit,” I said.
“Exactly. But with that equipment, a person is not free. He remains connected to the pump that supplies his air.”
“If we had to stay connected to the Nautilus in the same way, we could not travel very far.”
“Then how can we move freely?” I asked.
“We use the Rouquayrol breathing apparatus, invented by two of your countrymen and improved by me for my own purposes.”
“It allows people to survive under these new conditions without damaging their bodies.”
“It contains a strong iron air tank that stores compressed air at fifty times normal pressure.”
“The tank is carried on the back like a soldier’s backpack.”
“Its upper part contains a special box that controls the air pressure.”
“Two rubber tubes connect this box to a helmet covering the nose and mouth.”
“One tube brings fresh air in. The other removes used air.”
“However, because we face extreme pressure deep beneath the ocean, I had to place my head inside a copper sphere like a diver’s helmet.”
“The breathing tubes connect directly to this copper helmet.”
“Perfectly explained, Captain Nemo,” I said.
“But the air supply must eventually run out. When oxygen drops below fifteen percent, it can no longer support breathing.”
“Correct,” he answered.
“But I told you that the pumps of the Nautilus allow me to compress large amounts of air.”
“Under these conditions, the tank can provide breathable air for nine or ten hours.”
“I have no more objections,” I said.
“Only one question remains, Captain.”
“How will you light your way at the bottom of the ocean?”
“With the Ruhmkorff apparatus.”
“One device is carried on the back and another is attached to the waist.”
“It uses a battery and sends electricity through wires to a specially designed lamp.”
“Inside the lamp is a glass tube containing carbonic gas.”
“When electricity passes through it, the gas produces a bright, continuous white light.”
“With this equipment, I can breathe and I can see.”
“Captain Nemo, every objection I raise is answered so completely that I can no longer doubt you.”
“But although I accept the Rouquayrol and Ruhmkorff devices, I still have questions about the weapon I must carry.”
“It is not a gunpowder weapon,” he replied.
“Then it is an air gun.”
“Exactly.”
“How could I manufacture gunpowder aboard the Nautilus without saltpeter, sulfur, or charcoal?”
“Besides,” I added, “firing underwater must be difficult because water is hundreds of times denser than air.”
“That causes no problem.”
“There are underwater guns that have already been developed by inventors in several countries.”
“But I do not use gunpowder.”
“I use compressed air supplied by the pumps of the Nautilus.”
“But that air must quickly disappear.”
“Do I not carry my air tank with me?”
“A simple valve is enough.”
“Besides, during our underwater hunt, we will use very little air and very few bullets.”
“But in such darkness, and through such dense water, surely the shots cannot travel far or kill easily.”
“On the contrary,” said Captain Nemo.
“With this weapon, every shot is deadly.”
“Even the slightest touch can kill the animal instantly.”
“Why?”
“Because the bullets are not ordinary bullets.”
“They are tiny glass capsules invented by an Austrian chemist named Leniebroek.”
“I have a large supply of them.”
“Each glass capsule is protected by steel and contains a lead weight.”
“They are actually small electric batteries, like Leyden jars.”
“When they hit something, they release a powerful electric charge.”
“Even the strongest creature will fall dead.”
“The capsules are number four size, although a normal gun would require number ten.”
“I will argue no further,” I said, standing up.
“All I have left to do is take my weapon.”
“Wherever you go, Captain Nemo, I will follow.”
Captain Nemo then led me toward the rear of the submarine.
As we passed Ned’s and Conseil’s cabin, I called for them.
They immediately joined us.
Together, we entered a small room near the machinery area.
There we were to put on our special diving equipment.