Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea
By Jules Verne
3.5/5
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About this ebook
Jules Verne
Victor Marie Hugo (1802–1885) was a French poet, novelist, and dramatist of the Romantic movement and is considered one of the greatest French writers. Hugo’s best-known works are the novels Les Misérables, 1862, and The Hunchbak of Notre-Dame, 1831, both of which have had several adaptations for stage and screen.
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Reviews for Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea
2,742 ratings100 reviews
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The narrator has a habit of listing by genus and phylum every single plant and animal he sees and every shipwreck that has occurred in each region he travels to, but I skimed those and the rest was pretty good. I enjoyed the odd combination of 19th-century-style entitlement with surprisingly modern-sounding environmentalism (that species has been nearly hunted to extinction and this may be the last of its kind...let's eat it! or praising nature for creating new coal deposits in the sargasso sea for humanity to use when the land-bound deposits run out, or berating the harpooner for wanting to kill a whale needlessly, then slaughtering a huge group of other whales that came to hunt the first group....) And of course, an ambiguous villain(?) is often enjoyable.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5What do you get when you combine marine biology from the late 1800s and an action-adventure classic? 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea by Jules Verne, of course!
If you haven’t already read it or seen one of the many film adaptations, the novel follows Professor Arannox, an educated gentleman, and Conseil, his servant, on their search for knowledge within the ocean’s depths. Along the way, they encounter many wonders and meet the acquaintance of some intriguing characters, including the mysterious Captain Nemo.
When the plot focuses on the conflicts our cast of characters face on their journey, the pages fly by. From kidnappings to shipwrecks, a lot happens in what could be considered a rather short novel. Unfortunately, where there’s adventure, there’s also quite a lot of seemingly unnecessary description. Much of the book focuses on various characters making observations about fish. Unless you’re a scientist with a keen interest in the biological classification of sea creatures, there’s not much that will intrigue you in those passages. The descriptions that did not bother me were those that detailed the intricacies of Captain Nemo’s vessel, the Nautilus. At the time the novel was published, submarines were still incredibly primitive, so it’s impressive that Verne was able to predict the future, in a manner of speaking.
All of the main and supporting characters are fascinating, to say the least. Professor Aronnax values knowledge over freedom, Conseil takes great pride in his subservient position, Ned Land has a bloodlust for the hunt, and Captain Nemo, well, we don’t know much about him, do we? The level of secrecy he exudes kept me engaged until the bitter end. Verne has a subtle way with dialogue too. There were many moments, particularly in interactions between Ned and Conseil, which left me chuckling to myself.
20,000 Leagues is a classic for a reason. As much as I disliked the long scientific passages, the novel certainly has its merits. If you’re bothered by the extensive marine life descriptions, I highly recommend skimming or skipping them completely if you’re concerned that they’re ruining your reading experience. - Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Not being familiar with the comparative criticism between Verne and Wells, can only offer that I while I enjoyed Nemo's narrative and the compelling saga presented, I felt it would've benefited from some of Wells' philosophy.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5I loved all the descriptions of underwater life, and the different places the characters visit. I wanted to become a marine biologist after I finished reading!
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5I loved all the descriptions of underwater life, and the different places the characters visit. I wanted to become a marine biologist after I finished reading!
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5"Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea" is very famous story.I enjoyed the life of under the sea as the main character, a scientist. And this story tells us marvelous of the sea and fear of the sea. In this story, it is terrible for me to happen to problem that lack of air under the sea.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5This book is about trip about under water.One day,a rumor spread during people. This rumor is about a big whale. What the true form of the mystery whale?I think this story is exciting. But I don't want to live in Nautilus which is a submarine.It is very afraid for me.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5This story's main character is Captain Nemo.He and his submarine find ba town on the sea.They try to escape from submarine.This story is interesting for me because I like sea.So pictures made me exciting especially.I want to look town in the sea someday.
- Rating: 2 out of 5 stars2/5This book describes only an outline. So it will make you tired or sleepy. Furthermore, you will have a lot of unsolved mystery after reading. This is the story of submarine.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5I like this book. Because I like legends very very much.This book has a legend of 'ATLANTIS'.I want to know more about 'ATLANTIS'.The last scene of this book was misterious...
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5This story was very fantastic.I think travering around the world in the sea seems interesting but dangerous.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5This book is interesting. The last scene was mysterious and impressive. I want to know the truth.
- Rating: 1 out of 5 stars1/5This book didn't have interesting points. But pictures were good,so this book wasn't the worst book for me. If the end were clear,the story would become good. It is my thought. This story's hero is Mr Aronnax,who is a French scientist. He wants to find a giant whale,but one day,he sinked in the sea for the whale's attack on a ship! Next,he was in the submarine whose name is Nautilus. He experiences various pain,discovery and happiness. Please check them while you will be reading this book.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/520,000 Leagues Under the Sea is one of those classic science fiction books that should be on any science fiction fans reading list. Being around so long (Verne originally published the book in 1869), and available in so many versions, translations, and media, can make reviewing the book difficult. Most readers either have read the book, or will want to read it because it is one of the "classics" of the science fiction genre. That caveat being said, here's my review of 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. The story opens with reports of strange sightings and damage to ships by an unknown creature. The narrator, Pierre Aronnax, is a professor of the natural sciences and a medical doctor from Paris. While returning from a trip to collect fossils and other specimens from Nebraska he is given a chance to hunt down this mysterious monster aboard the ship, Abraham Lincoln. Aronnax has previously hypothesized that the creature responsible for the encounters is a large form of narwhal. Joining Aronnax on the trip is his servant, Conseil, and a whaler and harpooner, Ned Land. The Abraham Lincoln eventually encounters the supposed monster, and the three men are thrown overboard when the creature rams the ship. They are miraculously rescued when they discover that it was not a creature at all, but a submersible boat. The rest of the novel covers the various adventures and settings that Aronnax and the others discover while being the "guests" of Captain Nemo, the builder of the famed Nautilus. As with most of Verne's works, the story is told in the form of a travelogue, with the story being recounted as if reading from a journal or interview with the narrator - Professor Aronnax. The stories of adventure - traveling under Suez, hunting in a kelp forest, seeking the South Pole and being trapped in ice, and the famous attack of the Nautilus by giant squid - are interspersed with more sedate discussions of the workings of the ship, or the Professor's enthrallment with Captain Nemo. That is quite interesting since Nemo has essentially captured the three men and refuses them to ever leave the Nautilus again. Verne's gift is to create a thrilling adventure and to expound upon the wonders of technology. His description of the Nautilus and its operation is decades ahead of its time. He even describes a practical, and nearly identical to the modern equivalent, SCUBA system for breathing underwater that was about 80 years ahead of its time. Verne does miss the mark with many of his speculations about the natural world. He didn't foresee the theory of plate tectonics, and his description of Antarctica misses the mark. (And I give him creative license to include the fabled Atlantis - it was an adventure story after all.) But that doesn't detract from the adventure story that he is telling.My biggest problem with the story is with the characters. Verne spends so much time recounting the travelogue of Aronnax that the characters are not fleshed out. The only one who seems real is Aronnax himself. His two companions, the forgettable Conseil and the stereotyped Ned Land (who's last name is entirely reflected in his constant desire to flee the Nautilus) are mere window dressings for Aronnax, somebody he can reflect his own ideas upon. But what is really annoying is that we get to know so very little about Captain Nemo himself. A suburb engineer, master of the sea, fearless and stoic in the face of danger, we learn so little about his character. There are many secrets about Nemo that Verne teases the reader with, but we are never shown the answers to them, such as his motivations, the reason he quit the land to forever roam the sea, or his past. That was a disappointment. If you are a fan of science fiction I recommend that you read Verne's classic at some point. Even among his own works I do not consider it to be his best, but it is worth the read to see the early works of the science fiction genre. If you want to listen to the work (like I did) I do highly recommend the version from Tantor Media narrated by Michael Prichard. I am familiar with Prichard's narration from other works and he again delivers a great performance here. (I checked out this version from my local library.)
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5I suppose that as an 'abridged just for you' version of a book, I shouldn't have had my expectations up so high. But I did, and while the overall novel was great, I really, really wanted more out of this book. Especially description-wise. It kept cutting out halfway or jumping from item to item so quickly I got minor whiplash. I am unsure if an unabridged version exists, but I hope it finds its way to me at some point.
However, all that being said, I rather enjoyed the novel. It was fantastic, if a bit brief. - Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5This rating is a childhood rating. Hooked me on Science Fiction when I read it.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5To be upfront, I thought there would be a lot more action in this story. I never read it in school, so coming at it as an adult was intriguing. That being said, I was not let down. Verne is very versed in sea life (this book is chock full of jargon) and as a science nerd, it was fascinating. And somehow, through all the science and tech, he was able to create a story that is often exhilarating.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5How to begin... there are some aspects of this book that were extremely fascinating and the adventure that Jules Verne writes is captivating. What I did not care for were the excessive uses of nautical terms as well as zoological/biological terms used to describe everything in the book. Perhaps it is just more evidence of the dumbing down of society as we no longer describe things in these fashions and makes it difficult for the reader of today to follow. Even with the author's fluent and graceful writing. The thing that most irritated me, was that all my life I've been led to think the Nautilus was attacked by a giant squid when that chapter in the book was described VERY differently! However, I guess I cannot fault the original story for how other interpretations have distorted it. Still, I can see why this book is so timeless and I encourage everyone to give it a read to enjoy the great adventure with mad Captain Nemo under the sea.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5How to begin... there are some aspects of this book that were extremely fascinating and the adventure that Jules Verne writes is captivating. What I did not care for were the excessive uses of nautical terms as well as zoological/biological terms used to describe everything in the book. Perhaps it is just more evidence of the dumbing down of society as we no longer describe things in these fashions and makes it difficult for the reader of today to follow. Even with the author's fluent and graceful writing. The thing that most irritated me, was that all my life I've been led to think the Nautilus was attacked by a giant squid when that chapter in the book was described VERY differently! However, I guess I cannot fault the original story for how other interpretations have distorted it. Still, I can see why this book is so timeless and I encourage everyone to give it a read to enjoy the great adventure with mad Captain Nemo under the sea.
- Rating: 2 out of 5 stars2/5Good story, but too much biological minutiae.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5In 1866, a mysterious sea-creature has been plaguing the shipping lanes of the oceans. Several ships have sighted and even been sunk by a long, unknown and unnamed threat. Professor Pierre Aronnax, a marine biologist, theorizes that the creature in question is a narwal of gigantic proportions, come from the depths of the ocean herself. He is invited aboard the Abraham Lincoln as the ship embarks on a quest to seek and destroy the creature before it can do more harm. However, the professor, his assistant Consiel and a whaler named Ned Land are surprised to discover that, upon being thrown from the ship during a battle with the 'creature' to discover that it is, in fact, a magnificent submarine. They are taken aboard by the creator and leader of the vessel, the enigmatic Captain Nemo, and there kept prisoner. Aronnax finds himself enthralled beneath the waves on this aquatic adventure, but he must take into account the feelings of his companions as the months roll by. Jules Verne is not for everyone. He is, by no means, a difficult read, but he is a thick read. Many of his works are heavily laden by his vast amounts of knowledge and research, and 20,000 Leagues is certainly no exception. Throughout the journey, we are given glimpses through the professor's eyes of the myriads of creatures and plants that he sees all over the world and he tends, as the narrator, to go on about these things for some paragraphs. I decided, not far in, that teachers should use this book as they have used Billy Joel's song 'We didn't start the fire' or whatever it is called, for years--make a list of the places, peoples and creatures listed throughout this novel and give it to the students for picking paper topics. I have a feeling it could be quite successful. Anywho. I really did find this book an enjoyable read, despite the scientific lulls. The Professor's excitement in the element combined with his intrigue at the mysterious figure Nemo makes him an excellent narrator. In his professorial role, he is continually observing and questioning and learning, providing details for the reader to clearly picture and absorb the actions and settings. Nemo himself is an enigma to the narrator and possibly even more so to the reader, as it is an interpretation of a man instead of a description of a man from an omnipotent or unbiased narrator...of course, there are those who would say there is no such thing as an unbiased narrator, but we shall not get into that here. It is a lonely argument when one-sided, as it would be. Nature of a blog post and all that. I am sorry that this is such a pathetic review, but I'm still not entirely sure how I should be writing these silly things, not to mention if I should be. Oh well. Off to play Scrabble.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5I really enjoyed the descriptions
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5This book shows the true roots of science fiction. A story so fully of carefully researched facts about the various oceans of the world and the fish and plant life in them that you could almost believe that the nautilus and captain nemo did exist and the wonders they showed our narrator exsisted as well.
Science fiction is about taking what we know and expanding it just that little bit more into the impossible. Or the one day maybe possible and then seeing what might happen.
Quiet apart from that this is a story that brings home the massive change in attitude our society has had in regard to the environment and its study. Nemo himself is somewhat of a conservationist "this would be killing for the sake of killing" he tells Ned the harpooner. He kills willingly for food or in his search for revenge but will not be party to senseless destruction.
We never learn what Nemo actually hopes to achieve or what happens to the nautilus in the end. In many ways I think this would have added to the believability of the story when it was first published. - Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5A classic that I had always meant to read . . .The first thing I learned was that I had always been in error in my expectations from the title. I had thought that the ship had descended 20,000 leagues under the ocean, but, of course, the submarine had merely undertaken a journey of 20,000 league while submerged. As a result, the speculative science basis for the book was much better grounded, and Verne gets many things right - along with a series of clangers.I had recently read Edgar Allan Poe, and found many similarities in their approach to early science fiction (to creating the genre of science fiction, really). A good read.Read March 2017
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5If you are interested in the state of ichthyology in the 1860's this is the book of you. Every new area visited starts with an extensive list of the flora & fauna of the ocean and as far as I can tell is the most scientifically accurate part of the book, the rest sadly does not hold up as well. This mostly feels like a research project hung over a very loose plot. There is little story or plot and no character development to be found. The central mystery of the who and why of Nemo is only resolved in the most superficial manner. While it is somewhat interesting to see what was state of the art in the mid 19 century this is a story crying out for an abridged version.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Good book !
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5a good read
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Great book very long
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/520,000 Leagues Under the Sea is one of the most intriguing books I have ever read. Jules Verne predicts so many technologies that didn't exist in his time, but do exist today in some form. For example, in Verne's time there was no such thing as a deep sea submarine, but in this work of art, Verne depicts a submarine which is able to hold a crew under water for 48 hours, and it's impervious to the shells of the cannons of the 1800's. 20,000 Leagues has many surprising events in it. Humans are so oblivious to the hi-tech creation of one captain, Captain Nemo, that when the US Navy first see his submarine, they think it's a huge monster! Later on in the book, many mysteries are uncovered, such as the myth of Atlantis, Giant Squid, and many more.I wouldn't recommend this book to anyone who is looking for a book that is action-packed throughout the entire thing, but there is some action in it. If you're a reader who's looking for a book that makes you think about the mysteries around us, and has a few good action sequences, then definitely pick this book up.
- Rating: 2 out of 5 stars2/5I know it's a classic, but come on... How many descriptions of fish do we need?
Book preview
Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea - Jules Verne
TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA
CHAPTER I
A FLOATING REEF
IN the year 1866 the whole maritime population of Europe and America was excited by an inexplicable phenomenon. This excitement was not confined to merchants, common sailors, sea-captains, shippers, and naval officers of all countries, but the governments of many states on the two continents were deeply interested.
The excitement was caused by a long, spindle-shaped, and sometimes phosphorescent object, much larger than a whale.
The different accounts that were written of this object in various log-books agreed generally as to its structure, wonderful speed, and the peculiar life with which it appeared endowed. If it was a cetacean it surpassed in bulk all those that had hitherto been classified; neither Cuvier, Lacepède, M. Dumeril, nor M. de Quatrefages would have admitted the existence of such a monster, unless he had seen it with his own scientific eyes.
By taking the average of observations made at different times—rejecting the timid estimates that assigned to this object a length of 200 feet, as well as the exaggerated opinions which made it out to be a mile in width and three in length—we may fairly affirm that it surpassed all the dimensions allowed by the ichthyologists of the day, if it existed at all. It did exist, that was undeniable, and with that leaning towards the marvellous that characterises humanity, we cannot wonder at the excitement it produced in the entire world.
On the 20th of July, 1866, the steamer Governor Higgenson, of the Calcutta and Burnach Steam Navigation Company, met this moving mass five miles off the east coast of Australia. Captain Baker thought at first that he was in presence of an unknown reef; he was preparing to take its exact position, when two columns of water, projected by the inexplicable object, went hissing up a hundred and fifty feet into the air. Unless there was an intermittent geysern on the reef, the Governor Higgenson had to do with some aquatic mammal, unknown tUl then, which threw out columns of water mixed with air and vapour from its blow-holes.
A similar occurrence happened on the 23rd of July in the same year to the Columbus, of the West India and Pacific Steam Navigation Company, in the Pacific Ocean. It was, therefore, evident that this extraordinary cetaceous creature could transport itself from one place to another with surprising velocity, seeing there was but an interval of three days between the two observations, separated by a distance of more than 700 nautical leagues.
Fifteen days later, two thousand leagues from the last place it was seen by the Helvetia, of the Compagnie Nationale, and the Shannon of the Royal Mail Steamship Company, in the Atlantic, As the Shannon and Helvetia were of smaller dimensions than the object, though they measured 300 feet over all, the minimum length of the mammal was estimated at more than 350 feet. Now the largest whales are never more than sixty yards long, if so long.
These accounts arrived one after another; fresh observations made on board the transatlantic ship Le Pereire, the running foul of the monster by the Etna, of the Inman line; a report drawn up by the officers of the French frigate La Normandie; a very grave statement made by the ship’s officers of the Commodore FitzJames on board the Lord Clyde, deeply stirred public opinion.
The monster became the topic of the day; it was discussed at length—gravely and humorously—in all the newspapers.
For six months the discussion went on with varying success. Finally, a popular writer in a leading satirical journal, hurried over the whole ground, reached the monster, like Hippolytus gave him his finishing blow, and killed him in the midst of a universal burst of laughter. Wit had conquered science.
During the first months of the year 1867 the question seemed to be buried out of sight and mind, when some fresh facts brought it again before the public notice. The question took another phase. The monster again became an island or rock. On the 5th of March, 1867, the Moravian, of the Montreal Ocean Company, being, during the night, in 27° 30′ lat. and 72° 15′ long., struck her starboard quarter on a rock which no chart gave in that point. She was then going at the rate of thirteen knots under the combined efforts of the wind and her 400 horse power. Had it not been for the more than ordinary strength of the hull she would have been broken by the shock, and have gone down with the 337 passengers she was bringing from Canada.
The accident happened about 5 a.m, at daybreak, The officers on watch hurried aft and looked at the sea with the most scrupulous attention. They saw nothing except what looked like a strong eddy, three cables’ length off, as if the waves had been violently agitated. The bearings of the place were taken exactly, and the Moravian went on her way without apparent damage. Had she struck on a submarine rock or some enormous fragment of wreck? They could not find out, but during the examination made of the ship’s bottom when under repair it was found that part of her keel was broken.
This fact, extremely grave in itself, would perhaps have been forgotten, like so many others, if three weeks afterwards it had not happened again under identical circumstances, only, thanks to the nationality of the ship that was this time victim of the shock, and the reputation of the company to which the vessel belonged, the circumstance was immensely commented upon.
On the 13th of April, 1867, by a smooth sea and favourable breeze, the Cunard steamer Scotia was in 15° 12′ long, and 45° 37′ lat. She was going at the rate of thirteen knots an hour under the pressure of her 1,000 horse power.
At 4.17 p.m., as the passengers were assembled at dinner in the great saloon, a slight shock was felt on the hull of the Scotia, on her quarter a little aft of the paddle. It was so slight that no one on board would have been uneasy at it had it not been for the carpenter’s watch, who rushed upon deck, calling out—She is sinking! she is sinking!
At first the passengers were much alarmed, but Captain Anderson hastened to reassure them that danger could not be imminent, as the ship was divided into seven air-tight compartments, and could with impunity brave any leak.
Captain Anderson went down immediately into the hold and found that a leak had sprung in the fifth compartment, and the sea was rushing in rapidly. He ordered the engines to be immediately stopped, and one of the sailors dived to ascertain the extent of the damage. Some minutes after it was found that there was a hole about two yards in diameter in the ship’s bottom. Such a leak could not be stopped, and the Scotia, with her paddles half submerged, was obliged to continue her voyage. She was then 300 miles from Cape Clear, and after three days’ delay, which caused great anxiety in Liverpool, she entered the company’s docks.
The engineers then proceeded to examine her in the dry dock, where she had been placed. They could scarcely believe their eyes; at two yards and a half below watermark was a regular rent in the shape of an isosceles triangle. The place where the piece had been taken out of the iron plates was so sharply defined that it could not have been done more neatly by a punch. The perforating instrument that had done the work was of no common stamp, for after having been driven with prodigious force, and piercing an iron plate one and three-eighths of an inch thick, it had been withdrawn by some wonderful retrograde movement.
Such was the last fact, and it again awakened public opinion on the subject.
CHAPTER II
FOR AND AGAINST
AT the time when these events were happening I was returning from a scientific expedition into the disagreeable region of Nebraska, in the United States. In my capacity of Assistant Professor in the Paris Museum of Natural History, the French Government had attached me to that expedition. I arrived, at the end of March, at New York, loaded with precious collections made during six months in Nebraska. My departure from France was fixed for the beginning of May. Whilst I waited and was occupying myself with classifying my mineralogical, botanical, and zoological riches, the incident happened to the Scotia.
I was perfectly acquainted with the subject which was the topic of the day. I had repeatedly read all the American and European papers without being any the wiser as to the cause. The mystery puzzled me, and I hesitated to form any conclusion.
When I arrived at New York the subject was hot. The hypothesis of a floating island or reef was quite abandoned, for unless the shoal had a machine in its stomach, how could it change its position with such marvellous rapidity? For the same reason the idea of a floating hull or gigantic meek was given up.
There remained, therefore, two possible solutions of the enigma which created two distinct parties; one was that the object was a colossal monster, the other that it was a submarine vessel of enormous motive power. This last hypothesis, which, after all, was admissible, could not stand against inquiries made in the two hemispheres. It was hardly probable that a private individual should possess such a machine. Where and when had he caused it to be built, and how could he have kept its construction secret? Certainly a government might possess such a destructive engine, and it was possible in these disastrous times, when the power of weapons of war has been multiplied, that, without the knowledge of others, a state might possess so formidable a weapon. After the chassepots came the torpedoes, and after the torpedoes the submarine rams, and after them—the reaction. At least, I hope so.
But the hypothesis of a war machine fell before the declaration of different governments, and as the public interest suffered from the difficulty of transatlantic communication, their veracity could not be doubted. Besides, secrecy would be even more difficult to a government than to a private individual. After inquiries made in England, France, Russia, Prussia, Spain, Italy, America, and even Turkey, the hypothesis of a submarine monster was definitely rejected.
On my arrival at New York, several persons did me the honour of consulting me about the phenomenon. I had published in France a quarto work in two volumes, called The Mysteries of the Great Submarine Grounds. This book made some sensation in the scientific world, and gained me a special reputation in this rather obscure branch of Natural History. As long as I could deny the reality of the fact I kept to a decided negative, but I was soon driven into a corner, and was obliged to explain myself categorically. The Honourable Pierre Aronnax, Professor in the Paris Museum, was asked by the New York Herald to give his opinion on the matter. I subjoin an extract from the article which I published on the 30th of April:—
"After having examined the different hypotheses one by one, and all other suppositions being rejected, the existence of a marine animal of excessive strength must be admitted.
"The greatest depths of the ocean are totally unknown to us. What happens there? What beings can live twelve or fifteen miles below the surface of the sea? We can scarcely conjecture what the organisation of these animals is. However the solution of the problem submitted to me may affect the form of the dilemma, we either know all the varieties of beings that people our planet or we do not. If we do not know them all—if there are still secrets of submarine life for us—nothing is more reasonable than to admit the existence of fishes or cetaceans of an organisation suitable to the strata inaccessible to soundings, which for some reason or other come up to the surface at intervals.
"If, on the contrary, we do know all living species, we must of course look for the animal in question amongst the already classified marine animals, and in that case I should be disposed to admit the existence of a gigantic narwhal.
"The common narwhal, or sea-unicorn, is often sixty feet long. This size increases five or tenfold, and a strength in proportion to its size being given to the cetacean, and its offensive arms being increased in the same proportion, you obtain the animal required. It will have the proportions given by the officers of the Shannon, the instrument that perforated the Scotia, and the strength necessary to pierce the hull of the steamer.
"In fact, the narwhal is armed with a kind of ivory sword or halberd, as some naturalists call it. It is the principal tusk, and is as hard as steel. Some of these tusks have been found imbedded in the bodies of whales, which the narwhal always attacks with success. Others have been with difficulty taken out of ships’ bottoms, which they pierced through and through like a gimlet in a barrel. The Museum of the Paris Faculty of Medicine contains one of these weapons, two and a quarter yards in length and fifteen inches in diameter at the base.
Now suppose this weapon to be ten times stronger, and its possessor ten times more powerful, hurl it at the rate of twenty miles an hour, and you obtain a shock that might produce the catastrophe required. Therefore, until I get fuller information, I shall suppose it to be a sea-unicorn of colossal dimensions, armed, not with a halberd, but with a spur like ironclads or battering rams, the massiveness and motive power of which it would possess at the same time, This inexplicable phenomenon may be thus explained, unless something exists over and above anything ever conjectured, seen, or experienced, which is just possible.
The last words were cowardly on my part, but I wished up to a certain point to cover my dignity as professor, and not to give too much cause of laughter to the Americans, who laugh well when they do laugh. I reserved myself a loophole of escape, and, in fact, admitted the existence of the monster.
My article was well received, and provoked much discussion amongst the public. It rallied a certain number of partisans. The solution which it proposed left freedom to the imagination. The human mind likes these grand conceptions of supernatural beings. Now the sea is the only medium in which these giants, by the side of which terrestrial animals, elephants or rhinoceri, are but dwarfs, can breed and develop. The liquid masses transport the largest known species of mammalia, and they perhaps contain molluscs of enormous size, crustaceans frightful to contemplate, such as lobsters more than a hundred yards long, or crabs weighing two hundred tons. Why should it not be so? Formerly, terrestrial animals, contemporaries of the geological epochs, quadrupeds, quadrumans, reptiles, and birds, were constructed in gigantic moulds. The Creator had thrown them into a colossal mould which time has gradually lessened. Why should not the sea in its unknown depths have kept there vast specimens of the life of another age—the sea which never changes, whilst the earth changes incessantly? Why should it not hide in its bosom the last varieties of these Titanic species, whose years are centuries, and whose centuries are millenniums?
But I am letting myself be carried away by reveries which are no longer such to me. A truce to chimeras which time has changed for me into terrible realities. I repeat, opinion was then made up as to the nature of the phenomenon, and the public admitted the existence of the prodigious animal which had nothing in common with the mythical sea serpents.
But if some people saw in this nothing but a purely scientific problem to solve, others more positive, especially in America and England, were of opinion to purge the ocean of this formidable monster, in order to reassure transmarine communications.
All papers devoted to insurance companies who threatened to raise their rate of premium, were unanimous on this point. Public opinion having declared its verdict, the United States were first in the field, and preparations for an expedition to pursue the narwhal were at once begun in New York. A very fast frigate, the Abraham Lincoln, was put in commission, and the arsenals were opened to Captain Farragut, who hastened the arming of his frigate.
But, as generally happens, from the moment it was decided to pursue the monster, the monster was not heard of for two months. It seemed as if this unicorn knew about the plots that were being weaved for it. It had been so much talked of, even through the Atlantic Cable 1 Would-be wits pretended that the cunning fellow had stopped some telegram in its passage, and was now using the knowledge for his own benefit.
So wlien the frigate had been prepared for a long campaign, and furnished with formidable fishing apparatus, they did not know where to send her to. Impatience was increasing with the delay, when on July 2nd it was reported that a steamer of the San Francisco line, from California to Shanghai, had met with the animal three weeks before in the North Pacific Ocean.
The interest aroused by the news was intense, and twenty-four hours only were granted to Captain Farragut before he sailed.
Three hours before the Abraham Lincoln left Brooklyn Pier I received the following letter:—
"To M. ARONNAX, Professor of the Paris Museum,
"Fifth Avenue Hotel,
"New York.
"SIR,—If you would like to join the expedition of the Abraham Lincoln, the United States Government will have great pleasure in seeing France represented by you in the enterprise. Captain Farragut has a cabin at your disposition.
"Faithfully yours,
"J. B. HOBSON,
Secretary of Marine.
CHAPTER III
AS MONSIEUR PLEASES
THREE seconds before the arrival of J. B, Hobson’s letter I had no more idea of pursuing the unicorn than of attempting the North-West Passage. Three seconds after having read the secretary’s letter I had made up my mind that ridding the world of this monster was my veritable vocation and the single aim of my life.
But I had just returned from a fatiguing journey, and was longing for rest in my own little place in the Jardin des Plantes amongst my dear and precious collections. But I forgot all fatigue, repose and collections, and accepted without further reflection the offer of the American Government.
Besides,
I said to myself, all roads lead back to Europe, and the unicorn may be amiable enough to draw me towards the French coast. This worthy animal may allow itself to be caught in European seas for my especial benefit, and I will not take back less than half a yard of its halberd to the Natural History Museum.
But in the meantime the narwhal was taking me to the North Pacific Ocean, which was going to the antipodes on the road to France.
Conseil!
I called in an impatient tone. Conseil!
Conseil was my servant, a faithful fellow who accompanied me in all my journeys, a brave Dutchman I had great confidence in; he was phlegmatic by nature, regular from principle, zealous from habit, showing little astonishment at the varied surprises of life, very skilful with his hands, and, in spite of his name, never giving any counsel, even when not asked for it.
Through being brought in contact with men of science in our Jardin des Plantes, Conseil had succeeded in knowing something. He was a specialist, well up in the classification of Natural History, but his science stopped there. And yet what a brave fellow he was!
Conseil had followed me during the last ten years wherever science had directed my steps. He never complained of the length or fatigue of a journey, or of having to pack his trunk for any country, however remote. He went there or elsewhere without questioning the wherefore. His health defied all illness, and he had solid muscles, but no nerves—not the least appearance of nerves—of course I mean in his mental faculties. He was thirty years old, and his age to that of his master was as fifteen is to twenty. May I he excused for saying that I was forty?
But Conseil had one fault. He was intensely formal, and would never speak to me except in the third person, which was sometimes irritating.
Conseil!
I repeated, beginning my preparations for departure with a feverish hand.
Conseil appeared.
Did monsieur call me?
said he on entering.
Yes, my boy. Get yourself and me ready to start in two hours.
As it pleases monsieur,
answered Conseil calmly.
There is not a minute to lose. Pack up all my travelling utensils, as many coats, shirts and socks as you can get in, Make haste!
And monsieur’s collections?
asked Conseil.
They will be attended to during our absence. Besides, I will give orders to have our menagerie forwarded to France.
We are not going back to Paris, then?
asked Conseil.
Yes—certainly we are,
answered I evasively; but by making a curve.
The curve that monsieur pleases.
"Oh, it is not much; not so direct a route, that’s all. We are going in the Abraham Lincoln."
As it may suit monsieur.
"You know about the monster, Conseil—the famous narwhal. We are going to rid the seas of it. The author of the Great Submarine Grounds cannot do otherwise than embark with Commander Farragut, A glorious mission, but—dangerous too. We don’t know where we are going to. Those animals may be very capricious! But we will go, whether or no! We have a captain who will keep his eyes open."
As monsieur does I will do,
answered Conseil.
But think, for I will hide nothing from you. It is one of those voyages from which people do not always come back.
As monsieur pleases.
A quarter of an hour afterwards our trunks were ready. Conseil had packed them by sleight of hand, and I was sure nothing would be missing, for the fellow classified shirts and clothes as well as he did birds or mammals.
The hotel lift deposited us in the large vestibule of the first floor. I went down the few stairs that led to the ground floor. I paid my bill at the vast counter, always besieged by a busy crowd. I gave the order to send my cases of stuffed animals and dried plants to Paris, where I had instructed by telegraph my bankers to appoint a caretaker, and without waiting for an answer, I sprang into a vehicle, followed by Conseil.
The vehicle at fifteen shillings the course, descended Broadway as far as Union Square, went along Fourth avenue to its junction with Bowery Street, then along Katrin Street, and stopped at the thirty-fourth pier. There the Katrin ferry-boat transported us, men, horses, and vehicle, to Brooklyn, and in a few minutes we arrived at the quay opposite which the Abraham Lincoln was pouring forth clouds of black smoke from her two funnels.
Our luggage was at once sent on board, and we soon followed it. I asked for Captain Farragut. One of the sailors conducted me to the poop, where I found myself in the presence of a pleasant-looking officer, who held out his hand to me.
Monsieur Pierre Aronnax?
he said.
Himself,
replied I. Do I see Captain Farragut?
In person. You are welcome, professor. Your cabin is ready for you.
I bowed and leaving the commander to his duties, went down to the cabin which had been prepared for me.
The Abraham Lincoln had been well chosen and equipped for her new destination. She was furnished with a heating apparatus that allowed the tension of the steam to reach seven atmospheres. Under that pressure the Abraham Lincoln reached an average speed of eighteen miles and three-tenths an hour good speed, but not enough to wrestle with the gigantic cetacean.
The interior arrangements of the frigate were in keeping with her nautical qualities. I was well satisfied with my cabin, which was situated aft, and opened on the wardroom.
We shall be comfortable here,
said I to Conseil.
Yes, as comfortable as a hermit crab in a crumpet-shell.
I left Conseil to stow our luggage away, and went up on deck in order to see the preparations for departure. Captain Farragut was just ordering the last moorings to be cast loose, so that had I been one quarter of an hour later the frigate would have started without me.
But Commander Farragut did not wish to loose either a day or an hour before scouring the seas in which the animal had just been signalled.
The Abraham Lincoln was soon moving majestically amongst a hundred ferry-boats and tenders loaded with spectators, past the Brooklyn quay, on which as well as on all that part of New York bordering on the East River, crowds of spectators were assembled. Thousands of handkerchiefs were waved above the compact mass, and saluted the Abraham Lincoln until she reached the Hudson at the point of that elongated peninsula which forms the town of New York.
Then the frigate followed the coast of New Jersey, along the right bank of the beautiful river covered with villas, and passed between the forts which saluted her with their largest guns. The Abraham Lincoln acknowledged the salutation by hoisting the American colours three times; then modifying her speed to take the narrow channel marked by buoys and formed by Sandy Hook Point, she coasted the long sandy shore, where several thousand spectators saluted her once more.
Her escort of boats and tenders followed her till she reached the lightboat, the two lights of which mark the entrance to the New York Channel.
Three o’clock was then striking. The pilot went down into his boat and rejoined the little schooner which was waiting under lee, the fires were made up, the screw beat the waves more rapidly, and the frigate coasted the low yellow shore of Long Island, and at 8 p.m., after having lost sight in the north-west of the lights on Fire Island, she ran at full steam on to the dark waters of the Atlantic.
CHAPTER IV
NED LAND
CAPTAIN FARRAGUT was a good seaman, worthy of the frigate he was commanding. His ship and he were one. He was the soul of it. No doubt arose in his mind on the question of the cetacean, and he did not allow the existence of the animal to be disputed on board. He believed in it like certain simple souls believe in the Leviathan—by faith, not by sight. The monster existed, and he had sworn to capture it, dead or alive. Either Captain Farragut would kill the narwhal or the narwhal would kill Captain Farragut—there was no middle course.
The officers on board shared the opinion of their chief. It was amusing to hear them talking, arguing, disputing and calculating the different chances of meeting whilst they kept a sharp look-out over the vast extent of ocean. More than one took up his position on the crosstrees and would have cursed the duty as a nuisance at any other time, And nevertheless the Abraham Lincoln was not yet ploughing with her stern the suspected waters of the Pacific.
As to the crew, ail they wanted was to meet the unicorn, harpoon it, haul it on board, and cut it up. Captain Farragut had offered a reward of 2,000 dollars to the first cabin-boy, sailor, or officer who should signal the animal. I have already said that Captain Farragut had carefully provided all the tackle necessary for taking the gigantic cetacean. A whaler would not have been better furnished. We had every known engine, from the hand harpoon to the barbed arrow of the blunderbuss and the explosive bullets of the deck-gun. On the forecastle lay a perfect breechloader very thick at the breech and narrow in the bore, the model of which had been in the Paris Exhibition of 1867. This precious weapon, of American make, could throw with ease a projectile, weighing nine pounds, to a mean distance of ten miles. Thus the Abraham Lincoln not only possessed every means of destruction, but, better still, she had on board Ned Land, the king of harpooners.
Ned Land was a Canadian who had no equal in his perilous employment. He possessed ability, audacity, and subtleness to a remarkable degree, and it would have taken a sharp whale or a singularly wily cachalot to escape his harpoon. He was about forty years of age, tall, strongly built, grave, and taciturn, sometimes violent, and very passionate when put out. His person, and especially the power of his glance, which gave a singular expression to his face, attracted attention.
I believe that Captain Farragut had done wisely in engaging this man. He was worth all the rest of the ship’s company as far as his eye and arm went. I could not compare him to anything better than a powerful telescope which would be a cannon always ready to fire as well.
Ned Land was a descendant of French Canadians, and although he was so little communicative, he took a sort of liking to me, My nationality, doubtless, attracted him, The family of the harpooner came originally from Quebec, and already formed a tribe of hardy fishermen when that town belonged to France, Little by little Ned Land acquired a liking for talk, and I was delighted to hear the recital of his adventures in the Polar Seas.
I now depict this brave companion as I knew him afterwards, for we are old friends united in that unchangeable friendship which is born and cemented in mutual danger.
Now what was Ned Land’s opinion on the subject of this marine monster? I must acknowledge that he hardly believed in the narwhal, and that he was the only one on board who did not share the universal conviction.
One magnificent evening, three weeks after our departure, on the 30th of July, the frigate was abreast of Cape Blanc, thirty miles to leeward of the Patagonian coast. Another week and the Abraham Lincoln would be ploughing the waters of the Pacific.
Seated on the poop, Ned Land and I were talking on ill sorts of subjects, looking at that mysterious sea whose greatest depths have remained till now inaccessible to the eye of man. I brought the conversation naturally to the subject of the giant unicorn, and discussed the different chances of success in our expedition, Then seeing that Ned Land let me go on talking without saying anything himself, I pressed him more closely.
Well, Ned,
I said to him, are you not yet convinced of the existence of the cetacean we are pursuing? Have yoti any particular reasons for being so incredulous?
The harpooner looked at me for some minutes before replying, struck his forehead with a gesture habitual to him, shut his eyes as if to collect himself, and said at last—
Perhaps I have, M. Aronnax.
Yet you, Ned, are a whaler by profession. You are familiar with the great marine mammalia, and your imagination ought easily to accept the hypothesis of enormous cetaceans. You ought to be the last to doubt in such circumstances.
That is what deceives you, sir,
answered Ned. It is not strange that common people should believe in extraordinary comets, or the existence of antediluvian monsters peopling the interior of the globe, but no astronomer or geologist would believe in such chimeras. The whaler is the same. I have pursued many cataceans, harpooned a great number, and killed some few; but however powerful or well armed they were, neither their tails nor their defences could ever have made an incision in the iron plates of a steamer.
Yet, Ned, it is said that ships have been bored through by the tusk of a narwhal.
Wooden ships, perhaps,
answered the Canadian, though I have never seen it, and until I get proof to the contrary I deny that whales, cachalots, or sea-unicorns could produce such an effect.
Listen to me, Ned.
No, sir, no; anything you like but that—a gigantic poulp, perhaps?
No, that can’t be. The poulp is only a mollusc; its flesh has no more consistency than its name indicates.
Then you really do believe in this cetacean, sir?
said Ned.
Yes, Ned. I repeat it with a conviction resting on the logic of facts. I believe in the existence of a mammal, powerfully organised, belonging to the branch of vertebrata, like whales, cachalots, and dolphins, and furnished with a horn tusk, of which the force of penetration is extreme.
Hum!
said the harpooncr, shaking his head like a man who will not