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"Sir," Captain Nemo said, showing me the instruments hanging on the walls of his stateroom, "these are the devices needed to navigate the Nautilus. Here, as in the lounge, I always have them before my eyes, and they indicate my position and exact heading in the midst of the ocean. You're familiar with some of them, such as the thermometer, which gives the temperature inside the Nautilus; the barometer, which measures the heaviness of the outside air and forecasts changes in the weather; the humidistat, which indicates the degree of dryness in the atmosphere; the storm glass, whose mixture decomposes to foretell the arrival of tempests; the compass, which steers my course; the sextant, which takes the sun's altitude and tells me my latitude; chronometers, which allow me to calculate my longitude; and finally, spyglasses for both day and night, enabling me to scrutinize every point of the horizon once the Nautilus has risen to the surface of the waves."
"These are the normal navigational instruments," I replied, "and I'm familiar with their uses. But no doubt these others answer pressing needs unique to the Nautilus. That dial I see there, with the needle moving across it?isn't it a pressure gauge?"
"It is indeed a pressure gauge. It's placed in contact with the water, and it indicates the outside pressure on our hull, which in turn gives me the depth at which my submersible is sitting."
"And these are some new breed of sounding line?"
"They're thermometric sounding lines that report water temperatures in the different strata."
"And these other instruments, whose functions I can't even guess?"
"Here, professor, I need to give you some background information," Captain Nemo said. "So kindly hear me out."
He fell silent for some moments, then he said:
"There is a powerful agent, obedient, rapid, easy, which conforms to every use, and reigns supreme on board my vessel. Everything is done by means of it. It lights, warms it, and is the soul of my mechanical apparatus. This agent is electricity.''
"Electricity?'' I cried in surprise.
"Yes, sir."
"Nevertheless, Captain, you possess an extreme rapidity of movement, which does not agree well with the power of electricity. Until now, its dynamic force has remained under restraint, and has only been able to produce a small amount of power.''
"Professor,'' said Captain Nemo, "my electricity is not everybody's and that is all I wish to say about it."
"I will not insist, sir, and I will be satisfied just to be astonished by such a result. Only one question, however, which you need not answer if it is indiscreet. The elements which you employ to produce this marvelous agent must quickly wear out. Zinc, for example, how do you replace it, since you no longer have any communication with the surface world?
"Your question will have its answer", Captain Nemo responded, "I will say to you, initially, that there exists on the sea-bed mines of silver, iron, zinc, gold, whose exploitation would be doubtless practicable. But I did not borrow anything from these metals of the earth, and I wanted to take only from the sea itself the means of producing my electricity."
"From the sea?"
"Yes, Professor, and I did not miss the means. I could, indeed, by establishing a circuit between wires plunged to various depths, obtain electricity by the difference in temperature; but I preferred to employ a more practical system."
"Which is?"
"You know what sea-water is composed of. In a thousand grams are found 96 1/2 per cent of water, and about 2 2/3 per cent of chloride of sodium; then, in a smaller quantity, chlorides of magnesium and of potassium, bromide of magnesium, sulfate of magnesia, sulfate and carbonate of lime. You see, then, that chloride of sodium forms a large part of it. So it is this sodium that I extract from the sea-water, and of which I compose my ingredients.''
"Sodium?"
"Yes, sir. Mixed with mercury, it forms an amalgam that replaces zinc in the Bunsen elements. The mercury never wears outs. Sodium alone is consumed, and the sea itself provides it to me. I will say to you, moreover, that the cells with sodium must be regarded as most energetic, and that their electromotive force is double that of the zinc cells."
"I understand well, Captain, the excellence of sodium under theses conditions. The sea contains it. But it still must be manufactured, extracted it in a word. And how do you do this? Your batteries could obviously be used to power this extraction; but, if I am not mistaken, the expenditure of sodium required by the electrical apparatus would exceed the extracted quantity. You would consume more to produce it than you would produce!"
"So, Professor, I do not extract it by the batteries, but quite simply employ the heat of the pit coal."
"From the earth?" I insisted.
"Let us say 'coal of the sea', if you wish", answered Captain Nemo.
"And you can work underwater coal mines?"
"Mr Aronnax, you will see me do it. I ask you for an only little patience, since you have time to be patient. I point out only this: I owe all to the ocean; it produces electricity, and electricity gives heat, light, motion, and, in a word, life to the Nautilus."
"But not the air you breathe?"
"Oh, I could produce the air needed on board, but it would be pointless, since I can rise to the surface of the sea whenever I like. However, even though electricity doesn't supply me with breathable air, it at least operates the powerful pumps that store it under pressure in special tanks; which, if need be, allows me to extend my stay in the lower strata for as long as I want."
"Captain," I replied, "I'll rest content with marveling. You've obviously found what all mankind will surely find one day, the true dynamic power of electricity."
"I'm not so certain they'll find it," Captain Nemo replied icily. "But be that as it may, you're already familiar with the first use I've found for this valuable force. It lights us, and with a uniformity and continuity not even possessed by sunlight. Now, look at that clock: it's electric, it runs with an accuracy rivaling the finest chronometers. I've had it divided into twenty-four hours like Italian clocks, since neither day nor night, sun nor moon, exist for me, but only this artificial light that I import into the depths of the seas! See, right now it's ten o'clock in the morning."
"That's perfect."
"Another use for electricity: that dial hanging before our eyes indicates how fast the Nautilus is going. An electric wire puts it in contact with the patent log; this needle shows me the actual speed of my submersible. And . . . hold on . . . just now we're proceeding at the moderate pace of fifteen miles per hour."
"It's marvelous," I replied, "and I truly see, captain, how right you are to use this force; it's sure to take the place of wind, water, and steam."
"But that's not all, Professor Aronnax," Captain Nemo said, standing up. "And if you'd care to follow me, we'll inspect the Nautilus's stern."
In essence, I was already familiar with the whole forward part of this underwater boat, and here are its exact subdivisions going from amidships to its spur: the dining room, 5 meters long and separated from the library by a watertight bulkhead, in other words, it couldn't be penetrated by the sea; the library, 5 meters long; the main lounge, 10 meters long, separated from the captain's stateroom by a second watertight bulkhead; the aforesaid stateroom, 5 meters long; mine, 2.5 meters long; and finally, air tanks 7.5 meters long and extending to the stempost. Total: a length of 35 meters. Doors were cut into the watertight bulkheads and were shut hermetically by means of india-rubber seals, which insured complete safety aboard the Nautilus in the event of a leak in any one section.
I followed Captain Nemo down gangways located for easy transit, and I arrived amidships. There I found a sort of shaft heading upward between two watertight bulkheads. An iron ladder, clamped to the wall, led to the shaft's upper end. I asked the captain what this ladder was for.
"It goes to the skiff," he replied.
"What! You have a skiff?" I replied in some astonishment.
"Surely. An excellent longboat, light and unsinkable, which is used for excursions and fishing trips."
"But when you want to set out, don't you have to return to the surface of the sea?"
"By no means. The skiff is attached to the topside of the Nautilus's hull and is set in a cavity expressly designed to receive it. It's completely decked over, absolutely watertight, and held solidly in place by bolts. This ladder leads to a manhole cut into the Nautilus's hull and corresponding to a comparable hole cut into the side of the skiff. I insert myself through this double opening into the longboat. My crew close up the hole belonging to the Nautilus; I close up the one belonging to the skiff, simply by screwing it into place. I undo the bolts holding the skiff to the submersible, and the longboat rises with prodigious speed to the surface of the sea. I then open the deck paneling, carefully closed until that point; I up mast and hoist sail?or I take out my oars?and I go for a spin."
"But how do you return to the ship?"
"I don't, Professor Aronnax; the Nautilus returns to me."
"At your command?"
"At my command. An electric wire connects me to the ship. I fire off a telegram, and that's that."
"Right," I said, tipsy from all these wonders, "nothing to it!"
After passing the well of the companionway that led to the platform, I
saw a cabin 2 meters long in which Conseil and Ned Land, enraptured with their meal, were busy devouring it to the last crumb. Then a door opened into the
There, even more powerful and obedient than gas, electricity did most of the cooking. Arriving under the stoves, wires transmitted to platinum griddles a heat that was distributed and sustained with perfect consistency. It also heated a distilling mechanism that, via evaporation, supplied excellent drinking water. Next to this galley was a bathroom, conveniently laid out, with faucets supplying hot or cold water at will.
After the galley came the crew's quarters, 5 meters long. But the door was closed and I couldn't see its accommodations, which might have told me the number of men it took to operate the Nautilus.
At the bottom was a fourth partition that separated this office from the engine-room. A door opened, and I found myself in the compartment where Captain Nemo--certainly an engineer of a very high order--had arranged his locomotive machinery. This engine-room, clearly lighted, did not measure less than sixty-five feet in length. It was divided into two parts; the first contained the materials for producing electricity, and the second the machinery that connected it with the screw.
When we entered I was surprised by the unique odor that filled the compartment. Captain Nemo noticed my surprise.
"It is," he told me, "a gas discharge produced by the use of sodium; but it is only a minor inconvenience. Moreover, each morning we purify the ship's atmosphere by ventilating it with fresh air."
I examined everything with great interest, in order to understand the machinery of the Nautilus.
"You see," said the Captain, "I use Bunsen's contrivances, not Ruhmkorff's. Those would not have been powerful enough. Bunsen's are fewer in number, but strong and large, which experience proves to be the best. The electricity produced passes aft, where it works, by electro-magnets of great size, on a system of levers and cog-wheels that transmit the movement to the axle of the screw. This one, the diameter of which is nineteen feet, and the thread twenty- three feet, performs about 120 revolutions in a second."
"And you get then?"
"A speed of fifty miles an hour."
There was a mystery here, but I did not insist on solving it. How could electricity act with such power? Where did this almost unlimited force come from? Was this enormous tension obtained by coils of a new kind? Was its transmission enhanced by an unknown system of levers (1) that could increase ad infinitum? This is what I could not understand.
"Captain Nemo," I said, "I'll vouch for the results and not try to explain them. I've seen the Nautilus at work out in front of the Abraham Lincoln, and I know where I stand on its speed. But it isn't enough just to move, we have to see where we're going! We must be able to steer right or left, up or down! How do you reach the lower depths, where you meet an increasing resistance that's assessed in hundreds of atmospheres? How do you rise back to the surface of the ocean? Finally, how do you keep your ship at whatever level suits you? Am I indiscreet in asking you all these things?"
"Not at all, professor," the captain answered me after a slight hesitation, "since you'll never leave this underwater boat. Come into the lounge. It's actually our work room, and there you'll learn the full story about the Nautilus!"