On January 29, the island of Ceylon slowly disappeared behind the horizon.
The Nautilus moved forward at a speed of twenty miles an hour, entering the maze of channels between the Maldives and the Laccadive Islands.
It passed near Kiltan Island, a coral island first discovered by Vasco da Gama in 1499. It was one of the nineteen main islands of the Laccadive Archipelago, lying between 10° and 14°30′ north latitude.
By then, we had traveled 16,220 miles, or about 7,500 French leagues, from our starting point in the Japanese seas.
The next day, January 30, the Nautilus rose to the surface.
There was no land anywhere in sight.
The vessel headed northeast, toward the Sea of Oman, the sea between Arabia and the Indian Peninsula that opened into the Persian Gulf.
But the route ahead seemed strange.
It looked like a dead end.
Where was Captain Nemo taking us?
I had no idea.
However, Ned Land was not satisfied with this mystery.
That day, he came to me.
“Where are we going now, Professor?” he asked.
“Wherever Captain Nemo chooses to take us, my dear Ned.”
“Then his choice cannot lead us very far,” Ned replied.
“The Persian Gulf has no exit. If we enter it, we will soon have to turn back.”
“That is possible,” I said. “We will simply leave again. And if the Nautilus decides to visit the Red Sea after that, the Strait of Bab-el-Mandeb will give us a way in.”
“I must remind you, sir,” Ned said, “that the Red Sea is just as closed as the Persian Gulf. The Suez Isthmus has not been cut through yet. Even if it had been, a mysterious vessel like ours would never risk entering a canal filled with locks and artificial passages.”
He paused.
“And besides, the Red Sea is not the route back to Europe.”
“But I never said we were returning to Europe,” I answered.
“Then what do you think will happen?”
“I imagine that after exploring the fascinating coasts of Arabia and Egypt, the Nautilus will return through the Indian Ocean. Perhaps it will cross the Mozambique Channel, pass near the Mascarene Islands, and then reach the Cape of Good Hope.”
“And after reaching the Cape of Good Hope?” Ned asked, stressing every word.
“Then we will enter the Atlantic Ocean, which we have not yet explored.”
I smiled.
“Ah, my friend Ned, you are becoming tired of this underwater journey. You have had enough of the endless wonders beneath the sea. But I confess that I will be sorry when this voyage ends. Few men in the world will ever experience what we have seen.”
For four days, until February 3, the Nautilus traveled throughout the Sea of Oman.
Sometimes it moved quickly.
Sometimes it slowed down.
Sometimes it traveled deep beneath the surface.
It seemed almost uncertain about which direction to follow.
But it never crossed the Tropic of Cancer.
As we left the sea behind, we briefly saw Muscat, one of the most important cities of Oman.
I admired its unusual appearance.
Dark mountains surrounded it, and its white houses and forts stood brightly against the black rocks.
I saw the round domes of its mosques, the graceful towers of its minarets, and its green, refreshing terraces.
But the sight lasted only a moment.
The Nautilus soon disappeared beneath the waves.
We then followed the Arabian coast of Mahrah and Hadramaut.
Six miles away, we saw a long line of mountains, occasionally broken by the remains of ancient ruins.
On February 5, we finally entered the Gulf of Aden.
It was like a giant funnel leading into the narrow entrance of Bab-el-Mandeb, through which the waters of the Indian Ocean flowed into the Red Sea.
The next day, February 6, the Nautilus appeared near Aden.
The city stood on a rocky peninsula connected to the mainland by a narrow strip of land.
It looked like an unreachable Gibraltar.
The English had rebuilt its fortifications after taking control of the city in 1839.
I caught sight of Aden’s unusual eight-sided minarets.
Once, this city had been one of the richest trading centers on the coast.
I was certain that Captain Nemo would turn back at this point.
But I was completely wrong.
To my surprise, he continued onward.
On February 7, we entered the Strait of Bab-el-Mandeb.
In Arabic, its name means “The Gate of Tears.”
The strait was only twenty miles wide and thirty-two miles long.
At full speed, the Nautilus crossed it in less than an hour.
But I saw nothing.
Not even Perim Island, which the British government had fortified to protect Aden.
Too many ships were passing through this narrow passage—steamers traveling between Suez and Bombay, Calcutta and Melbourne, Bourbon and Mauritius.
The Nautilus wisely stayed hidden beneath the water.
By noon, we had entered the Red Sea.
I did not even try to understand what strange idea had led Captain Nemo here.
However, I was delighted that he had chosen this route.
The Nautilus reduced its speed.
Sometimes it traveled on the surface.
Sometimes it submerged to avoid other ships.
This allowed me to study both the world above and below this remarkable sea.
On February 8, at sunrise, we saw Mocha.
The city was now almost ruined.
Its walls could probably be destroyed by a single cannon shot.
Yet here and there, green date palms still grew among the remains.
Long ago, Mocha had been an important city with six public markets and twenty-six mosques.
Fourteen forts had once surrounded its walls, forming a defensive circle two miles long.
The Nautilus then approached the African coast, where the sea became deeper.
Through the large windows, between two layers of crystal-clear water, we could admire magnificent coral bushes and huge rocks covered with thick green algae.
The view was beyond description.
Along the sandy shores and volcanic islands of the Libyan coast, every scene seemed different from the last.
But the most beautiful coral formations appeared on the eastern coast.
The Nautilus soon reached the coast of Tehama.
There, the underwater coral gardens did not simply grow beneath the waves.
They also formed strange natural structures rising nearly sixty feet above the sea surface.
They were more unusual in shape, though less colorful, than the living coral below, which remained bright because of the constant energy of the ocean.
What wonderful hours I spent standing beside the windows of the salon!
How many new forms of underwater plants and animals I discovered beneath the glow of our electric lights!
On February 9, the Nautilus reached the widest part of the Red Sea.
The sea stretched between Souakin on the western coast and Komfidah on the eastern coast, covering a distance of ninety miles.
At noon, after taking measurements, Captain Nemo came onto the platform where I happened to be.
I decided that I would not allow him to leave without asking about his future plans.
When he saw me, he approached with a friendly expression and offered me a cigar.
“Well, Monsieur Aronnax,” he said, “do you like the Red Sea? Have you studied the wonders hidden beneath it? Its fish, its coral animals, its fields of sponges, and its coral forests? Have you seen the cities along its shores?”
“Yes, Captain Nemo,” I replied.
“The Nautilus is perfectly designed for exploring such places. It truly is an intelligent vessel.”
“Yes, sir,” he answered.
“Intelligent and impossible to defeat. It fears neither the violent storms of the Red Sea, nor its currents, nor its dangerous sandbanks.”
“Certainly,” I said.
“This sea has always been considered one of the most dangerous in the world. If I remember correctly, even ancient sailors feared it greatly.”
“Very much so, Monsieur Aronnax,” said Captain Nemo.
“Greek and Roman historians described it as extremely dangerous. Strabo wrote that it was especially terrible during certain seasonal winds and rainy periods. The Arab writer Edrisi called it the Gulf of Colzoum and claimed that many ships were destroyed on its sandbanks. According to him, it was a sea filled with storms, surrounded by hostile islands, and offering nothing good either above or below the surface.”
“It seems those historians never traveled aboard the Nautilus,” I said.
Captain Nemo smiled.
“Exactly. But modern people are not always wiser than the ancients. It took many centuries before mankind discovered the power of steam. Who knows? Perhaps another hundred years from now, another Nautilus will exist. Progress moves slowly, Monsieur Aronnax.”
“That is true,” I replied.
“Your vessel is at least a century ahead of its time, perhaps even more. What a tragedy that such a secret invention may disappear with its creator.”
Captain Nemo did not answer.
After a few moments of silence, he continued:
“You were speaking about ancient historians and their fears of the Red Sea.”
“Yes,” I said.
“But were they not exaggerating the danger?”
“Yes and no,” Captain Nemo replied.
He seemed to know this sea perfectly.
“A modern ship, strong and well equipped, can control its own direction with the help of steam power. But imagine the ancient sailors who entered these waters in simple wooden ships. Their boards were tied together with palm ropes, covered with resin, and protected only by primitive methods.”
“They had no accurate instruments for navigation. They moved through unknown currents without understanding them.”
“Under such conditions, shipwrecks were unavoidable.”
“But today, steamships traveling between Suez and the southern seas no longer fear these waters, even with difficult winds.”
“Modern sailors no longer offer sacrifices to the gods before departure, nor do they return wearing decorated crowns to thank the temples after surviving the voyage.”
“I agree,” I said.
“Steam seems to have removed much of the gratitude sailors once felt.”
“But Captain Nemo, since you seem to know this sea so well, can you tell me where its name came from?”
“There are several explanations, Monsieur Aronnax. Would you like to hear the opinion of a fourteenth-century historian?”
“Certainly.”
“This writer claimed that the name came from the time when Moses led the Israelites across the sea and Pharaoh’s army was destroyed by the returning waters.”
“A poetic explanation,” I said.
“But I would like to hear your own opinion.”
“My opinion is this,” said Captain Nemo.
“The name Red Sea may come from the Hebrew word ‘Edom.’ The ancient people may have named it because of the special color of its waters.”
“But so far, I have only seen clear water without any unusual color.”
“That is true,” he replied.
“But as we travel deeper into the gulf, you will see this strange phenomenon.”
“I once saw the Bay of Tor completely red, like a sea of blood.”
“And you believe this color comes from microscopic seaweed?”
“Yes.”
“Then, Captain Nemo, this is not your first journey through the Red Sea aboard the Nautilus?”
“No, sir.”
“Since you mentioned Moses and the destruction of the Egyptians, may I ask whether you have discovered any traces beneath the water of that historical event?”
“No, sir.”
“Why not?”
“Because the place where Moses crossed has now become filled with sand. Even camels can barely stand in the shallow water there. Naturally, there is not enough water for my Nautilus.”
“And where exactly is this place?”
“It lies slightly north of the Suez Isthmus, in the area where the Red Sea once extended much farther inland.”
“Whether the crossing was a miracle or a natural event, the Israelites passed through that region, and Pharaoh’s army was destroyed there.”
“I believe that if people excavated the sands, they would discover many Egyptian weapons and tools.”
“That seems very possible,” I replied.
“Perhaps future archaeologists will uncover those remains after new cities are built near the Suez Canal.”
“A canal that would be useless to a vessel like the Nautilus.”
“Perhaps,” Captain Nemo said.
“But it will be useful to the entire world.”
“The ancients understood the importance of connecting the Red Sea with the Mediterranean for trade. However, they never imagined cutting a direct canal.”
“They used the Nile as a connection instead.”
“According to tradition, the first canal linking the Nile and the Red Sea may have been started by Pharaoh Sesostris.”
“Later, King Necos began another canal around 615 BC. Darius continued the work, and Ptolemy II probably completed it.”
“It was used for centuries until it was eventually abandoned and buried by sand.”
“During his Egyptian campaign, your General Bonaparte discovered traces of these ancient works in the Suez Desert.”
“He was nearly killed by the rising tide while exploring the same region where Moses had once camped thousands of years before.”
“Well, Captain,” I said, “what ancient rulers failed to accomplish, Monsieur Lesseps has achieved. The connection between the two seas will greatly shorten the journey from Europe to India.”
“Yes, Monsieur Aronnax,” Captain Nemo replied.
“You should be proud of your countryman.”
“A person like him brings great honor to a nation.”
“He succeeded because of his determination and genius.”
“All honor belongs to Monsieur Lesseps.”
“Indeed,” I replied, surprised by Captain Nemo’s admiration.
“Unfortunately,” he continued, “I cannot take you through the Suez Canal.”
“But the day after tomorrow, when we reach the Mediterranean, you will see the long harbor entrance of Port Said.”
“The Mediterranean!” I exclaimed.
“Yes. Does that surprise you?”
“What surprises me is that we will arrive there so quickly.”
“Why?”
“Because to reach the Mediterranean, the Nautilus would have to travel around Africa and pass the Cape of Good Hope.”
“Who told you we would travel around Africa?”
“Well, unless the Nautilus can travel over land and cross the isthmus…”
“Or beneath it, Monsieur Aronnax.”
“Beneath it?”
“Certainly,” Captain Nemo answered calmly.
“Nature created a passage beneath this land long before humans built one on its surface.”
“What? There is actually a passage?”
“Yes.”
“A hidden underground tunnel that I call the Arabian Tunnel.”
“It passes beneath Suez and opens into the Gulf of Pelusium.”
“But the isthmus is made only of loose sand.”
“Only near the surface. Fifty-five yards below, there is a solid layer of rock.”
“Did you discover this tunnel by accident?” I asked, more astonished than ever.
“By accident and by reasoning, Monsieur Aronnax.”
“But reasoning played the greater role.”
“I discovered that certain fish species existed both in the Red Sea and the Mediterranean.”
“I wondered: could two seas with identical creatures truly have no connection?”
“If a connection existed, there had to be an underwater current caused by the difference in sea levels.”
“I captured many fish near Suez, placed copper rings around their tails, and released them.”
“Months later, near the Syrian coast, I caught some of the same fish wearing those rings.”
“That proved a connection existed between the two seas.”
“After that, I searched for the passage with the Nautilus.”
“I found it.”
“I entered it.”
“And soon, Monsieur Aronnax, you too will travel through my Arabian Tunnel.”