by Jules Verne
At last on March 18, after twenty futile assaults, the Nautiluswas decisively held in check. No longer was it an ice stream,patch, or field--it was an endless, immovable barrier formed by icemountains fused to each other.
"The Ice Bank!" the Canadian told me.
For Ned Land, as well as for every navigator before us, I knewthat this was the great insurmountable obstacle. When the sunappeared for an instant near noon, Captain Nemo took a reasonablyaccurate sight that gave our position as longitude 51 degrees 30'and latitude 67 degrees 39' south. This was a position alreadywell along in these Antarctic regions.
As for the liquid surface of the sea, there was no longerany semblance of it before our eyes. Before the Nautilus'sspur there lay vast broken plains, a tangle of confused chunkswith all the helter-skelter unpredictability typical of a river'ssurface a short while before its ice breakup; but in this casethe proportions were gigantic. Here and there stood sharp peaks,lean spires that rose as high as 200 feet; farther off, a successionof steeply cut cliffs sporting a grayish tint, huge mirrorsthat reflected the sparse rays of a sun half drowned in mist.Beyond, a stark silence reigned in this desolate natural setting,a silence barely broken by the flapping wings of petrels or puffins.By this point everything was frozen, even sound.
So the Nautilus had to halt in its venturesome course among thesetracts of ice.
"Sir," Ned Land told me that day, "if your captain goes any farther . . ."
"Yes?"
"He'll be a superman."
"How so, Ned?"
"Because nobody can clear the Ice Bank. Your captain's apowerful man, but damnation, he isn't more powerful than nature.If she draws a boundary line, there you stop, like it or not!"
"Correct, Ned Land, but I still want to know what's behind thisIce Bank! Behold my greatest source of irritation--a wall!"
"Master is right," Conseil said. "Walls were invented simplyto frustrate scientists. All walls should be banned."
"Fine!" the Canadian put in. "But we already know what's behindthis Ice Bank."
"What?" I asked.
"Ice, ice, and more ice."
"You may be sure of that, Ned," I answered, "but I'm not.That's why I want to see for myself."
"Well, professor," the Canadian replied, "you can just drop that idea!You've made it to the Ice Bank, which is already far enough,but you won't get any farther, neither your Captain Nemo orhis Nautilus. And whether he wants to or not, we'll head north again,in other words, to the land of sensible people."
I had to agree that Ned Land was right, and until ships are builtto navigate over tracts of ice, they'll have to stop at the Ice Bank.
Indeed, despite its efforts, despite the powerful methods itused to split this ice, the Nautilus was reduced to immobility.Ordinarily, when someone can't go any farther, he still hasthe option of returning in his tracks. But here it was justas impossible to turn back as to go forward, because everypassageway had closed behind us, and if our submersible remainedeven slightly stationary, it would be frozen in without delay.Which is exactly what happened near two o'clock in the afternoon,and fresh ice kept forming over the ship's sides with astonishing speed.I had to admit that Captain Nemo's leadership had been most injudicious.
Just then I was on the platform. Observing the situation for some while,the captain said to me:
"Well, professor! What think you?"
"I think we're trapped, captain."
"Trapped! What do you mean?"
"I mean we can't go forward, backward, or sideways.I think that's the standard definition of 'trapped,' at leastin the civilized world."
"So, Professor Aronnax, you think the Nautilus won't be ableto float clear?"
"Only with the greatest difficulty, captain, since the seasonis already too advanced for you to depend on an ice breakup."
"Oh, professor," Captain Nemo replied in an ironic tone,"you never change! You see only impediments and obstacles!I promise you, not only will the Nautilus float clear, it willgo farther still!"
"Farther south?" I asked, gaping at the captain.
"Yes, sir, it will go to the pole."
"To the pole!" I exclaimed, unable to keep back a movement of disbelief.
"Yes," the captain replied coolly, "the Antarctic pole,that unknown spot crossed by every meridian on the globe.As you know, I do whatever I like with my Nautilus."
Yes, I did know that! I knew this man was daring to the pointof being foolhardy. But to overcome all the obstacles aroundthe South Pole--even more unattainable than the North Pole,which still hadn't been reached by the boldest navigators--wasn't this an absolutely insane undertaking, one that could occuronly in the brain of a madman?
It then dawned on me to ask Captain Nemo if he had already discoveredthis pole, which no human being had ever trod underfoot.
"No, sir," he answered me, "but we'll discover it together.Where others have failed, I'll succeed. Never before has myNautilus cruised so far into these southernmost seas, but I repeat:it will go farther still."
"I'd like to believe you, captain," I went on in a tone of some sarcasm."Oh I do believe you! Let's forge ahead! There are no obstacles for us!Let's shatter this Ice Bank! Let's blow it up, and if it still resists,let's put wings on the Nautilus and fly over it!"
"Over it, professor?" Captain Nemo replied serenely."No, not over it, but under it."
"Under it!" I exclaimed.
A sudden insight into Captain Nemo's plans had just flashed throughmy mind. I understood. The marvelous talents of his Nautiluswould be put to work once again in this superhuman undertaking!
"I can see we're starting to understand each other, professor,"Captain Nemo told me with a half smile. "You already glimpsethe potential--myself, I'd say the success--of this attempt.Maneuvers that aren't feasible for an ordinary ship are easy forthe Nautilus. If a continent emerges at the pole, we'll stop atthat continent. But on the other hand, if open sea washes the pole,we'll go to that very place!"
"Right," I said, carried away by the captain's logic."Even though the surface of the sea has solidified into ice,its lower strata are still open, thanks to that divine justice that putsthe maximum density of salt water one degree above its freezing point.And if I'm not mistaken, the submerged part of this Ice Bank isin a four-to-one ratio to its emerging part."
"Very nearly, professor. For each foot of iceberg above the sea,there are three more below. Now then, since these ice mountains don'texceed a height of 100 meters, they sink only to a depth of 300 meters.And what are 300 meters to the Nautilus?"
"A mere nothing, sir."
"We could even go to greater depths and find that temperature layercommon to all ocean water, and there we'd brave with impunitythe -30 degrees or -40 degrees cold on the surface."
"True, sir, very true," I replied with growing excitement.
"Our sole difficulty," Captain Nemo went on, "lies in our stayingsubmerged for several days without renewing our air supply."
"That's all?" I answered. "The Nautilus has huge air tanks;we'll fill them up and they'll supply all the oxygen we need."
"Good thinking, Professor Aronnax," the captain replied with a smile."But since I don't want to be accused of foolhardiness, I'm givingyou all my objections in advance."
"You have more?"
"Just one. If a sea exists at the South Pole, it's possiblethis sea may be completely frozen over, so we couldn't come upto the surface!"
"My dear sir, have you forgotten that the Nautilus is armedwith a fearsome spur? Couldn't it be launched diagonally againstthose tracts of ice, which would break open from the impact?"
"Ah, professor, you're full of ideas today!"
"Besides, captain," I added with still greater enthusiasm,"why wouldn't we find open sea at the South Pole just as atthe North Pole? The cold-temperature poles and the geographicalpoles don't coincide in either the northern or southern hemispheres,and until proof to the contrary, we can assume these two spotson the earth feature eith
er a continent or an ice-free ocean."
"I think as you do, Professor Aronnax," Captain Nemo replied."I'll only point out that after raising so many objections againstmy plan, you're now crushing me under arguments in its favor."
Captain Nemo was right. I was outdoing him in daring!It was I who was sweeping him to the pole. I was leadingthe way, I was out in front . . . but no, you silly fool!Captain Nemo already knew the pros and cons of this question,and it amused him to see you flying off into impossible fantasies!
Nevertheless, he didn't waste an instant. At his signal,the chief officer appeared. The two men held a quick exchangein their incomprehensible language, and either the chief officerhad been alerted previously or he found the plan feasible,because he showed no surprise.
But as unemotional as he was, he couldn't have been more impeccablyemotionless than Conseil when I told the fine lad our intentionof pushing on to the South Pole. He greeted my announcement withthe usual "As master wishes," and I had to be content with that.As for Ned Land, no human shoulders ever executed a higher shrugthan the pair belonging to our Canadian.
"Honestly, sir," he told me. "You and your Captain Nemo, Ipity you both!"
"But we will go to the pole, Mr. Land."
"Maybe, but you won't come back!"
And Ned Land reentered his cabin, "to keep from doingsomething desperate," he said as he left me.
Meanwhile preparations for this daring attempt were getting under way.The Nautilus's powerful pumps forced air down into the tanksand stored it under high pressure. Near four o'clock Captain Nemoinformed me that the platform hatches were about to be closed.I took a last look at the dense Ice Bank we were going to conquer.The weather was fair, the skies reasonably clear, the cold quite brisk,namely -12 degrees centigrade; but after the wind had lulled,this temperature didn't seem too unbearable.
Equipped with picks, some ten men climbed onto the Nautilus'ssides and cracked loose the ice around the ship's lower plating,which was soon set free. This operation was swiftly executedbecause the fresh ice was still thin. We all reentered the interior.The main ballast tanks were filled with the water that hadn't yetcongealed at our line of flotation. The Nautilus submerged without delay.
I took a seat in the lounge with Conseil. Through the openwindow we stared at the lower strata of this southernmost ocean.The thermometer rose again. The needle on the pressure gaugeswerved over its dial.
About 300 meters down, just as Captain Nemo had predicted,we cruised beneath the undulating surface of the Ice Bank. But theNautilus sank deeper still. It reached a depth of 800 meters.At the surface this water gave a temperature of -12 degrees centigrade,but now it gave no more than -10 degrees. Two degrees had alreadybeen gained. Thanks to its heating equipment, the Nautilus'stemperature, needless to say, stayed at a much higher degree.Every maneuver was accomplished with extraordinary precision.
"With all due respect to master," Conseil told me, "we'll pass it by."
"I fully expect to!" I replied in a tone of deep conviction.
Now in open water, the Nautilus took a direct course to the polewithout veering from the 52nd meridian. From 67 degrees 30'to 90 degrees, twenty-two and a half degrees of latitude wereleft to cross, in other words, slightly more than 500 leagues.The Nautilus adopted an average speed of twenty-six miles per hour,the speed of an express train. If it kept up this pace, forty hourswould do it for reaching the pole.
For part of the night, the novelty of our circumstances kept Conseiland me at the lounge window. The sea was lit by our beacon'selectric rays. But the depths were deserted. Fish didn't lingerin these imprisoned waters. Here they found merely a passagewayfor going from the Antarctic Ocean to open sea at the pole.Our progress was swift. You could feel it in the vibrationsof the long steel hull.
Near two o'clock in the morning, I went to snatch a few hours of sleep.Conseil did likewise. I didn't encounter Captain Nemo while goingdown the gangways. I assumed that he was keeping to the pilothouse.
The next day, March 19, at five o'clock in the morning, I was backat my post in the lounge. The electric log indicated that theNautilus had reduced speed. By then it was rising to the surface,but cautiously, while slowly emptying its ballast tanks.
My heart was pounding. Would we emerge into the open and findthe polar air again?
No. A jolt told me that the Nautilus had bumped the underbellyof the Ice Bank, still quite thick to judge from the hollownessof the accompanying noise. Indeed, we had "struck bottom,"to use nautical terminology, but in the opposite directionand at a depth of 3,000 feet. That gave us 4,000 feetof ice overhead, of which 1,000 feet emerged above water.So the Ice Bank was higher here than we had found it on the outskirts.A circumstance less than encouraging.
Several times that day, the Nautilus repeated the same experiment andalways it bumped against this surface that formed a ceiling above it.At certain moments the ship encountered ice at a depth of 900 meters,denoting a thickness of 1,200 meters, of which 300 meters rose abovethe level of the ocean. This height had tripled since the momentthe Nautilus had dived beneath the waves.
I meticulously noted these different depths, obtaining the underwaterprofile of this upside-down mountain chain that stretchedbeneath the sea.
By evening there was still no improvement in our situation.The ice stayed between 400 and 500 meters deep. It was obviouslyshrinking, but what a barrier still lay between us and the surfaceof the ocean!
By then it was eight o'clock. The air inside the Nautilus should havebeen renewed four hours earlier, following daily practice on board.But I didn't suffer very much, although Captain Nemo hadn't yetmade demands on the supplementary oxygen in his air tanks.
That night my sleep was fitful. Hope and fear besieged me by turns.I got up several times. The Nautilus continued groping.Near three o'clock in the morning, I observed that we encounteredthe Ice Bank's underbelly at a depth of only fifty meters.So only 150 feet separated us from the surface of the water.Little by little the Ice Bank was turning into an ice field again.The mountains were changing back into plains.
My eyes didn't leave the pressure gauge. We kept rising on a diagonal,going along this shiny surface that sparkled beneath our electric rays.Above and below, the Ice Bank was subsiding in long gradients.Mile after mile it was growing thinner.
Finally, at six o'clock in the morning on that memorable day of March 19,the lounge door opened. Captain Nemo appeared.
"Open sea!" he told me.
CHAPTER 14
The South Pole
I RUSHED UP onto the platform. Yes, open sea! Barely a fewsparse floes, some moving
icebergs; a sea stretching into the distance; hosts of birdsin the air and myriads of fish under the waters, which variedfrom intense blue to olive green depending on the depth.The thermometer marked 3 degrees centigrade. It was as if acomparative springtime had been locked up behind that Ice Bank,whose distant masses were outlined on the northern horizon.
"Are we at the pole?" I asked the captain, my heart pounding.
"I've no idea," he answered me. "At noon we'll fix our position."
"But will the sun show through this mist?" I said, staring atthe grayish sky.
"No matter how faintly it shines, it will be enough for me,"the captain replied.
To the south, ten miles from the Nautilus, a solitary islet roseto a height of 200 meters. We proceeded toward it, but cautiously,because this sea could have been strewn with reefs.
In an hour we had reached the islet. Two hours later we had completed afull circle around it. It measured four to five miles in circumference.A narrow channel separated it from a considerable shore,perhaps a continent whose limits we couldn't see. The existenceof this shore seemed to bear out Commander Maury's hypotheses.In essence, this ingenious American has noted that betweenthe South Pole and the 60th parallel, the sea is coveredwith floating ice of dimensions much greater than any foundin the north Atlantic. From this fact he drew the conclusionthat the
Antarctic Circle must contain considerable shores,since icebergs can't form on the high seas but only along coastlines.According to his calculations, this frozen mass enclosing the southernmostpole forms a vast ice cap whose width must reach 4,000 kilometers.
Meanwhile, to avoid running aground, the Nautilus halted threecable lengths from a strand crowned by superb piles of rocks.The skiff was launched to sea. Two crewmen carrying instruments,the captain, Conseil, and I were on board. It was ten o'clockin the morning. I hadn't seen Ned Land. No doubt, in the presenceof the South Pole, the Canadian hated having to eat his words.
A few strokes of the oar brought the skiff to the sand,where it ran aground. Just as Conseil was about to jump ashore,I held him back.
"Sir," I told Captain Nemo, "to you belongs the honor of firstsetting foot on this shore."
"Yes, sir," the captain replied, "and if I have no hesitationin treading this polar soil, it's because no human being untilnow has left a footprint here."
So saying, he leaped lightly onto the sand. His heart musthave been throbbing with intense excitement. He scaled anoverhanging rock that ended in a small promontory and there,mute and motionless, with crossed arms and blazing eyes,he seemed to be laying claim to these southernmost regions.After spending five minutes in this trance, he turned to us.
