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Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea
Chapter 28. THE ARABIAN TUNNEL
That same evening, at 21 degrees 30 minutes north latitude, the Nautilus floated on the surface of the sea, approaching the Arabian coast.
I saw Djeddah, the most important trading center of Egypt, Syria, Turkey, and India.
I could clearly see its buildings, the ships anchored at the docks, and those whose depth required them to anchor further out.
The sun, rather low on the horizon, shone directly on the houses of the town, making their whiteness stand out.
Outside, some wooden cabins and some made of reeds showed the area where the Bedouins lived.
Soon the shadows of night hid Djeddah from view, and the Nautilus went underwater, which was slightly glowing.
The next day, the 10th of February, we saw several ships sailing against the wind.
The Nautilus returned to its underwater travel, but at noon, when its position was checked, the sea was empty.
So it rose again to the surface.
With Ned and Conseil, I sat on the platform.
The coast on the eastern side looked like a shape faintly printed on a damp fog.
We leaned on the small boat's sides, talking, when Ned Land pointed to a spot on the sea and said,
"Do you see anything there, sir?"
"No, Ned," I replied, "but I don't have your eyes, you know."
"Look carefully," said Ned, "there, on the right side, about the height of the lantern! Don't you see a shape that seems to move?"
"Certainly," I said, after looking closely, "I see something like a long black body on top of the water."
And before long, the black object wasn't more than a mile from us.
It looked like a large sandbank in the open sea, it was a gigantic dugong!
Ned Land looked eagerly, his eyes shone with desire at the sight of the animal.
His hand seemed ready to harpoon it.
You'd have thought he was waiting for the moment to jump into the sea and attack it in its own element.
At that moment, Captain Nemo appeared on the platform.
He saw the dugong, understood the Canadian's attitude, and said to him,
"If you held a harpoon just now, Master Land, wouldn't it burn your hand?"
"Exactly, sir."
"And you wouldn't mind going back, for one day, to your trade as a fisherman and adding this whale to the list of those you've already killed?"
"No, sir."
"Well, you can try."
"Thank you, sir," said Ned Land, his eyes burning.
"Only," continued the Captain, "I advise you for your own sake not to miss the creature."
"Is the dugong dangerous to attack?" I asked, despite the Canadian's shrug.
"Yes," replied the Captain.
"Sometimes the animal turns on its attackers and overturns their boat."
"But for Master Land, this danger isn't something to fear."
"His eye is quick, his arm is sure."
At that moment, seven crew members, silent and still as ever, came onto the platform.
One carried a harpoon and a line similar to those used for catching whales.
The small boat was lifted from the bridge, pulled from its holder, and lowered into the sea.
Six rowers took their seats, and the coxswain went to the tiller.
Ned, Conseil, and I went to the back of the boat.
"Aren't you coming, Captain?" I asked.
"No, sir, but I wish you good luck."
The boat set off, and lifted by the six rowers, it moved quickly towards the dugong, which floated about two miles from the Nautilus.
When we were a short distance from the whale, the speed slowed, and the oars dipped silently into the calm waters.
Ned Land, harpoon in hand, stood at the front of the boat.
The harpoon used for striking the whale is usually attached to a very long rope that runs out quickly as the wounded creature pulls it along.
But here the rope was only ten fathoms long, its end fastened to a small barrel that floated to show dugong's underwater course.
I stood and watched the Canadian's opponent carefully.
This dugong, also called the halicore, closely resembles the manatee, its long body ends in a stretched tail, and its side fins look like perfect fingers.
Its difference from the manatee was in its upper jaw, which had two long, pointed teeth that formed diverging tusks on each side.
This dugong that Ned Land was preparing to attack was huge, it was more than seven yards long.
It didn't move, and seemed to be sleeping on the waves, which made it easier to catch.
The boat came within six yards of the animal.
The oars rested on the rowlocks, I half rose.
Ned Land, his body leaning back a little, raised the harpoon in his experienced hand.
Suddenly we heard a hissing noise, and the dugong disappeared.
The harpoon, although thrown with great force, had apparently only hit the water.
"Curse it!" shouted the Canadian angrily, "I missed it!"
"No," I said, "the creature is wounded, look at the blood, but your weapon didn't stick in its body."
"My harpoon! My harpoon!" cried Ned Land.
The sailors rowed on, and the coxswain headed for the floating barrel.
We got the harpoon back and followed the animal.
The dugong came up now and then to breathe.
Its wound hadn't weakened it, because it moved forward very quickly.
The boat, rowed by strong arms, flew after it.
Several times it came within a few yards, and the Canadian was ready to strike, but the dugong dived away suddenly, and we couldn't reach it.
Imagine the passion that excited the impatient Ned Land!
He shouted the strongest curses in English at the unlucky creature.
For my part, I was only annoyed to see the dugong escape all our attacks.
We chased it without stopping for an hour.
I began to think it would be hard to catch.
Then the animal turned on the boat and attacked us.
It had the bad idea of getting revenge.
This sudden movement did not escape the Canadian's sharp, experienced eye.
"Look out!" he cried.
The coxswain said some words in his strange language, probably warning the men to be careful.
The dugong came within twenty feet of the boat, paused, sniffed the air with its large nostrils on its upper snout.
Then it jumped and threw itself at us.
The boat couldn't avoid the hit and half overturned.
It took in at least two tons of water that had to be emptied.
Thanks to the coxswain, we caught it sideways, not straight on.
So we weren't completely turned over, Ned Land held onto the front of the boat.
He hit the huge animal with blows from his harpoon.
The creature's teeth sank into the side of the boat.
It lifted the whole thing out of the water, like a lion does a deer.
We fell on top of each other.
And I don't know how the adventure would have ended, if the Canadian, still angry with the beast, hadn't struck it in the heart.
I heard its teeth grind on the iron plate, and the dugong disappeared, taking the harpoon with it.
But the barrel soon returned to the surface, and shortly after, the body of the animal, turned on its back.
The boat caught up with it, took it in tow, and headed straight for the Nautilus.
It took very strong equipment to lift the dugong onto the platform, it weighed 10,000 pounds.
The next day, 11th February, the Nautilus's food supply was enriched by some more delicate game.
A flock of sea swallows landed on the Nautilus.
They were a type of Sterna nilotica, special to Egypt.
Their beaks are black, heads grey and pointed.
Eyes are surrounded by white spots, Their backs, wings, and tails are a greyish color.
Bellies and throats are white, and claws are red.
They also caught about a dozen Nile ducks, a wild bird with a strong flavor, its throat and upper head white with black spots.
About five o'clock in the evening, we saw to the north the Cape of Ras-Mohammed.
This cape forms the tip of Arabia Petraea, between the Gulf of Suez and the Gulf of Acabah.
The Nautilus entered the Straits of Jubal, which lead to the Gulf of Suez.
I clearly saw a high mountain, standing between the two gulfs of Ras-Mohammed.
It was Mount Horeb, that Sinai at the top of which Moses saw God face to face.
At six o'clock, the Nautilus, sometimes floating, sometimes underwater, passed some distance from Tor, located at the end of the bay.
Its waters seemed tinted with red, an observation Captain Nemo had already made.
Night fell in a heavy silence, the cries of pelicans and other night birds broke it sometimes.
Waves crashed on the shore and rubbed against the rocks.
A distant steamer's paddles beat the Gulf waters with noise.
From eight to nine o'clock, the Nautilus stayed some fathoms underwater.
According to my calculation, we must have been very near Suez.
Through the panel of the saloon, I saw the bottom of the rocks brightly lit by our electric lamp.
We seemed to be leaving the Straits behind us more and more.
At a quarter past nine, the vessel returned to the surface, and I went up onto the platform.
Very impatient to go through Captain Nemo's tunnel, I couldn't stay still, so I came to breathe the fresh night air.
Soon in the shadow, I saw a pale light, half faded by the fog, shining about a mile from us.
"A floating lighthouse!" said someone near me.
I turned, shading my eyes, and then clearly saw the Captain standing nearby.
"It's the floating light of Suez," he continued.
"It won't be long before we reach the entrance of the tunnel."
"The entrance can't be easy?"
"No, sir, for that reason, I'm used to going into the steersman's cabin and directing our course myself."
"And now, if you'll go down, M."
"Aronnax, the Nautilus is going underwater, and won't return to the surface until we've passed through the Arabian Tunnel."
Captain Nemo led me to the central staircase.
Halfway down he opened a door and crossed the deck before entering the pilot's cabin, which rose at the end of the platform.
It was a cabin measuring six feet square, very much like the one used by the pilot on the steamboats of the Mississippi or Hudson.
In the middle worked a wheel, placed vertically, and attached to the tiller rope, which ran to the back of the Nautilus.
Four light ports with lens-shaped glass, set into a groove in the cabin's wall, allowed the man at the wheel to see in all directions.
This cabin was dark, but soon my eyes got used to the darkness.
And I saw the pilot, a strong man, with his hands resting on the spokes of the wheel.
Outside, the sea was brightly lit by the lantern, which sent its rays from the back of the cabin to the other end of the platform.
"Now," said Captain Nemo, "let's try to make our passage."
Electric wires linked the pilot's cabin to the engine room, letting the Captain send both direction and speed to the Nautilus.
He pressed a metal button, and at once the speed of the propeller slowed.
I looked in silence at the high, straight wall we were passing by at that moment, the unmoving base of a massive sandy coast.
We followed it for an hour only a few yards away.
Captain Nemo didn't take his eye off the knob, hanging by its two concentric circles in the cabin.
With a simple gesture, the pilot changed the course of the Nautilus every moment.
I had placed myself at the left porthole.
I saw magnificent underwater structures of coral, zoophytes, seaweed, and algae, their huge claws stretching out from cracks in the rock.
At a quarter past ten, the Captain himself took the wheel.
A large gallery, black and deep, opened before us.
The Nautilus went boldly into it, a strange roaring sound was heard around its sides.
It was the waters of the Red Sea, which the slope of the tunnel pushed violently towards the Mediterranean.
The Nautilus went with the current, despite the engine's efforts, which beat the waves with the reversed propeller to resist.
On the passage walls I saw bright rays, straight lines, trails of fire, made by great speed under the electric light.
My heart beat fast, as excitement and fear ran together through my chest.
At thirty-five minutes past ten, Captain Nemo left the wheel and, turning to me, said,
"The Mediterranean!"
In less than twenty minutes, the Nautilus, carried along by the current, had passed through the Isthmus of Suez.