A Vanished Continent

The next morning, the 19th of February, I saw the Canadian enter my room. I expected this visit. He looked very disappointed.

The next morning, February 19, the Canadian came into my room. I had expected his visit. He looked very disappointed.

“Well, sir?” said he.

“Well, sir?” he said.

“Well, Ned, fortune was against us yesterday.”

“Well, Ned, luck was against us yesterday.”

“Yes; that Captain must needs stop exactly at the hour we intended leaving his vessel.”

“Yes, that Captain had to stop exactly when we planned to leave his ship.”

“Yes, Ned, he had business at his bankers.”

“Yes, Ned, he had business at his bank.”

“His bankers!”

“His bankers!”

“Or rather his banking-house; by that I mean the ocean, where his riches are safer than in the chests of the State.”

“Or rather, his bank. I mean the ocean, where his riches are safer than in the state treasury.”

I then related to the Canadian the incidents of the preceding night, hoping to bring him back to the idea of not abandoning the Captain; but my recital had no other result than an energetically expressed regret from Ned that he had not been able to take a walk on the battlefield of Vigo on his own account.

I then told the Canadian what had happened the night before, hoping to persuade him not to abandon the Captain. But Ned only expressed deep regret that he had not been able to explore the battlefield of Vigo on his own.

“However,” said he, “all is not ended. It is only a blow of the harpoon lost. Another time we must succeed; and to-night, if necessary——”

“However,” he said, “all is not lost. It was only a missed harpoon strike. Next time we must succeed. And tonight, if necessary...”

“In what direction is the Nautilus going?” I asked.

“Which direction is the Nautilus going?” I asked.

“I do not know,” replied Ned.

“I don't know,” Ned replied.

“Well, at noon we shall see the point.”

“Well, we’ll see the point at noon.”

The Canadian returned to Conseil. As soon as I was dressed, I went into the saloon. The compass was not reassuring. The course of the Nautilus was S.S.W. We were turning our backs on Europe.

The Canadian went back to Conseil. As soon as I was dressed, I went into the saloon. The compass reading was worrying. The Nautilus was heading south-southwest. We were leaving Europe behind.

I waited with some impatience till the ship’s place was pricked on the chart. At about half-past eleven the reservoirs were emptied, and our vessel rose to the surface of the ocean. I rushed towards the platform. Ned Land had preceded me. No more land in sight. Nothing but an immense sea. Some sails on the horizon, doubtless those going to San Roque in search of favourable winds for doubling the Cape of Good Hope. The weather was cloudy. A gale of wind was preparing. Ned raved, and tried to pierce the cloudy horizon. He still hoped that behind all that fog stretched the land he so longed for.

I waited impatiently for the ship’s position to be marked on the chart. At about eleven thirty, the reservoirs were emptied, and our vessel rose to the ocean’s surface. I rushed to the platform. Ned Land was already there. No land was in sight. There was nothing but a vast sea. Sails appeared on the horizon. They were doubtless headed for San Roque, seeking favorable winds to sail around the Cape of Good Hope. The sky was cloudy. A gale was brewing. Ned raged and tried to see through the clouds on the horizon. He still hoped the land he longed for lay behind all that fog.

At noon the sun showed itself for an instant. The second profited by this brightness to take its height. Then, the sea becoming more billowy, we descended, and the panel closed.

At noon, the sun appeared for a moment. The second-in-command used the light to measure the sun’s height. Then the sea grew rougher, so we went below and closed the hatch.

An hour after, upon consulting the chart, I saw the position of the Nautilus was marked at 16° 17′ long., and 33° 22′ lat., at 150 leagues from the nearest coast. There was no means of flight, and I leave you to imagine the rage of the Canadian when I informed him of our situation.

An hour later, I checked the chart. It showed that the Nautilus was at 16° 17′ longitude and 33° 22′ latitude, 150 leagues from the nearest coast. There was no way to escape. I leave you to imagine the Canadian's rage when I told him of our situation.

For myself, I was not particularly sorry. I felt lightened of the load which had oppressed me, and was able to return with some degree of calmness to my accustomed work.

For my part, I was not particularly sorry. I felt free of the burden that had weighed on me. I could return to my usual work with some calm.

That night, about eleven o’clock, I received a most unexpected visit from Captain Nemo. He asked me very graciously if I felt fatigued from my watch of the preceding night. I answered in the negative.

That night, around eleven o’clock, Captain Nemo paid me a most unexpected visit. He kindly asked if I was tired from keeping watch the night before. I said I was not.

“Then, M. Aronnax, I propose a curious excursion.”

“Then, M. Aronnax, I suggest an unusual outing.”

“Propose, Captain?”

“Propose, Captain?”

“You have hitherto only visited the submarine depths by daylight, under the brightness of the sun. Would it suit you to see them in the darkness of the night?”

“Until now, you have only visited the depths of the sea in daylight, under the bright sun. Would you like to see them in the darkness of night?”

“Most willingly.”

“Of course. I'd be happy to.”

“I warn you, the way will be tiring. We shall have far to walk, and must climb a mountain. The roads are not well kept.”

“I warn you, the journey will be tiring. We have a long way to walk, and we must climb a mountain. The roads are not well maintained.”

“What you say, Captain, only heightens my curiosity; I am ready to follow you.”

“What you say makes me even more curious, Captain. I’m ready to follow you.”

“Come then, sir, we will put on our diving-dresses.”

“Come on, sir, let's put on our diving suits.”

Arrived at the robing-room, I saw that neither of my companions nor any of the ship’s crew were to follow us on this excursion. Captain Nemo had not even proposed my taking with me either Ned or Conseil.

When we reached the changing room, I saw that neither of my companions nor any of the crew would join us on the excursion. Captain Nemo had not even suggested that I bring Ned or Conseil.

In a few moments we had put on our diving-dresses; they placed on our backs the reservoirs, abundantly filled with air, but no electric lamps were prepared. I called the Captain’s attention to the fact.

In a few moments, we had put on our diving suits. They strapped air tanks filled with plenty of air to our backs, but no electric lamps had been prepared. I pointed this out to the Captain.

“They will be useless,” he replied.

“They won’t be useful,” he replied.

I thought I had not heard aright, but I could not repeat my observation, for the Captain’s head had already disappeared in its metal case. I finished harnessing myself. I felt them put an iron-pointed stick into my hand, and some minutes later, after going through the usual form, we set foot on the bottom of the Atlantic at a depth of 150 fathoms. Midnight was near. The waters were profoundly dark, but Captain Nemo pointed out in the distance a reddish spot, a sort of large light shining brilliantly about two miles from the Nautilus. What this fire might be, what could feed it, why and how it lit up the liquid mass, I could not say. In any case, it did light our way, vaguely, it is true, but I soon accustomed myself to the peculiar darkness, and I understood, under such circumstances, the uselessness of the Ruhmkorff apparatus.

I thought I had misheard, but I could not repeat my remark. The Captain’s head had already disappeared inside its metal helmet. I finished putting on my gear. I felt someone place an iron-tipped stick in my hand. A few minutes later, after the usual procedure, we set foot on the Atlantic seabed, 150 fathoms below the surface. Midnight was near. The water was completely dark, but Captain Nemo pointed to a reddish spot in the distance. It was a large, brilliant light, about two miles from the Nautilus. I could not say what the fire was, what fed it, or why and how it lit up the water. In any case, it did light our way, though only dimly. I soon grew used to the strange darkness, and I understood why the Ruhmkorff apparatus was unnecessary under these circumstances.

As we advanced, I heard a kind of pattering above my head. The noise redoubling, sometimes producing a continual shower, I soon understood the cause. It was rain falling violently, and crisping the surface of the waves. Instinctively the thought flashed across my mind that I should be wet through! By the water! in the midst of the water! I could not help laughing at the odd idea. But, indeed, in the thick diving-dress, the liquid element is no longer felt, and one only seems to be in an atmosphere somewhat denser than the terrestrial atmosphere. Nothing more.

As we moved forward, I heard a pattering above my head. The sound grew louder, sometimes becoming a steady shower. I soon understood what was causing it. Rain was falling heavily and rippling the surface of the waves. Instinctively, I thought I would get soaked! By water! While I was surrounded by water! I could not help laughing at the strange thought. But inside the thick diving suit, you no longer feel the water. It only seems as if you are in an atmosphere somewhat denser than the air on land. Nothing more.

After half an hour’s walk the soil became stony. Medusae, microscopic crustacea, and pennatules lit it slightly with their phosphorescent gleam. I caught a glimpse of pieces of stone covered with millions of zoophytes and masses of sea weed. My feet often slipped upon this sticky carpet of sea weed, and without my iron-tipped stick I should have fallen more than once. In turning round, I could still see the whitish lantern of the Nautilus beginning to pale in the distance.

After walking for half an hour, the ground became stony. Jellyfish, microscopic crustaceans, and sea pens lit the ground faintly with their glowing light. I glimpsed pieces of stone covered with millions of zoophytes and masses of seaweed. My feet often slipped on this sticky carpet of seaweed. Without my iron-tipped stick, I would have fallen more than once. When I turned around, I could still see the whitish light of the Nautilus beginning to fade in the distance.

But the rosy light which guided us increased and lit up the horizon. The presence of this fire under water puzzled me in the highest degree. Was I going towards a natural phenomenon as yet unknown to the savants of the earth? Or even (for this thought crossed my brain) had the hand of man aught to do with this conflagration? Had he fanned this flame? Was I to meet in these depths companions and friends of Captain Nemo whom he was going to visit, and who, like him, led this strange existence? Should I find down there a whole colony of exiles who, weary of the miseries of this earth, had sought and found independence in the deep ocean? All these foolish and unreasonable ideas pursued me. And in this condition of mind, over-excited by the succession of wonders continually passing before my eyes, I should not have been surprised to meet at the bottom of the sea one of those submarine towns of which Captain Nemo dreamed.

But the rosy light guiding us grew brighter and lit up the horizon. The presence of fire underwater puzzled me immensely. Was I approaching a natural phenomenon still unknown to the world's scientists? Or could humans have had something to do with this blaze? The thought crossed my mind. Had someone fueled the flame? Was Captain Nemo going to visit companions and friends in these depths, people who lived the same strange life he did? Would I find a whole colony of exiles down there? Had they grown tired of the miseries of the world and found independence in the deep ocean? All these foolish and unreasonable ideas pursued me. Wonder after wonder kept passing before my eyes, and my mind was overexcited. In that state, I would not have been surprised to find one of Captain Nemo's dreamed-of underwater cities on the seafloor.

Our road grew lighter and lighter. The white glimmer came in rays from the summit of a mountain about 800 feet high. But what I saw was simply a reflection, developed by the clearness of the waters. The source of this inexplicable light was a fire on the opposite side of the mountain.

Our path grew brighter and brighter. Rays of white light came from the top of a mountain about 800 feet high. But what I saw was only a reflection, made clearer by the clear water. The source of this unexplained light was a fire on the other side of the mountain.

In the midst of this stony maze furrowing the bottom of the Atlantic, Captain Nemo advanced without hesitation. He knew this dreary road. Doubtless he had often travelled over it, and could not lose himself. I followed him with unshaken confidence. He seemed to me like a genie of the sea; and, as he walked before me, I could not help admiring his stature, which was outlined in black on the luminous horizon.

Captain Nemo moved without hesitation through the maze of rocks that cut across the Atlantic seabed. He knew this dreary route. He had surely traveled it often and could not lose his way. I followed him with complete confidence. He seemed like a spirit of the sea. As he walked ahead of me, I could not help admiring his figure, outlined in black against the glowing horizon.

It was one in the morning when we arrived at the first slopes of the mountain; but to gain access to them we must venture through the difficult paths of a vast copse.

It was one in the morning when we reached the mountain's lower slopes. But to get onto them, we had to make our way along difficult paths through a vast thicket.

Yes; a copse of dead trees, without leaves, without sap, trees petrified by the action of the water and here and there overtopped by gigantic pines. It was like a coal-pit still standing, holding by the roots to the broken soil, and whose branches, like fine black paper cuttings, showed distinctly on the watery ceiling. Picture to yourself a forest in the Hartz hanging on to the sides of the mountain, but a forest swallowed up. The paths were encumbered with seaweed and fucus, between which grovelled a whole world of crustacea. I went along, climbing the rocks, striding over extended trunks, breaking the sea bind-weed which hung from one tree to the other; and frightening the fishes, which flew from branch to branch. Pressing onward, I felt no fatigue. I followed my guide, who was never tired. What a spectacle! How can I express it? how paint the aspect of those woods and rocks in this medium—their under parts dark and wild, the upper coloured with red tints, by that light which the reflecting powers of the waters doubled? We climbed rocks which fell directly after with gigantic bounds and the low growling of an avalanche. To right and left ran long, dark galleries, where sight was lost. Here opened vast glades which the hand of man seemed to have worked; and I sometimes asked myself if some inhabitant of these submarine regions would not suddenly appear to me.

Yes, it was a grove of dead trees, without leaves or sap, petrified by the water. Here and there, giant pines towered above them. It was like a coal mine still standing, its roots clinging to the broken ground. Its branches stood out against the watery ceiling like delicate cutouts of black paper. Imagine a forest in the Hartz clinging to the mountainside, but a forest swallowed by the sea. Seaweed and fucus clogged the paths, and a whole world of crustaceans crawled among them. I went on, climbing rocks and stepping over fallen trunks. I broke through the sea bindweed hanging from tree to tree and startled fish that darted from branch to branch. As I pressed on, I felt no fatigue. I followed my guide, who never tired. What a sight! How can I describe it? How can I portray those woods and rocks in the water? Their lower parts were dark and wild, while their upper parts glowed red in the light doubled by the water’s reflections. We climbed rocks that fell away immediately afterward in giant leaps, with the low rumble of an avalanche. Long, dark passages stretched away on either side, farther than the eye could see. Vast clearings opened here and there, as if shaped by human hands. At times I wondered if an inhabitant of these underwater regions might suddenly appear before me.

But Captain Nemo was still mounting. I could not stay behind. I followed boldly. My stick gave me good help. A false step would have been dangerous on the narrow passes sloping down to the sides of the gulfs; but I walked with firm step, without feeling any giddiness. Now I jumped a crevice, the depth of which would have made me hesitate had it been among the glaciers on the land; now I ventured on the unsteady trunk of a tree thrown across from one abyss to the other, without looking under my feet, having only eyes to admire the wild sites of this region.

But Captain Nemo was still climbing. I could not stay behind, so I followed boldly. My walking stick helped me greatly. A wrong step would have been dangerous on the narrow paths sloping down toward the gulfs. But I walked steadily, without feeling dizzy. At one point, I jumped over a crevice. Its depth would have made me hesitate among the glaciers on land. At another, I ventured across an unsteady tree trunk spanning one abyss to another. I did not look beneath my feet. I had eyes only for the wild scenery of this region.

There, monumental rocks, leaning on their regularly-cut bases, seemed to defy all laws of equilibrium. From between their stony knees trees sprang, like a jet under heavy pressure, and upheld others which upheld them. Natural towers, large scarps, cut perpendicularly, like a “curtain,” inclined at an angle which the laws of gravitation could never have tolerated in terrestrial regions.

There, enormous rocks rested on their evenly cut bases, seemingly defying all laws of balance. Trees sprang from between their stony knees like jets under great pressure. They supported other trees, which supported them in turn. Natural towers and huge cliffs, cut straight down like a “curtain,” leaned at angles gravity would never have allowed on land.

Two hours after quitting the Nautilus we had crossed the line of trees, and a hundred feet above our heads rose the top of the mountain, which cast a shadow on the brilliant irradiation of the opposite slope. Some petrified shrubs ran fantastically here and there. Fishes got up under our feet like birds in the long grass. The massive rocks were rent with impenetrable fractures, deep grottos, and unfathomable holes, at the bottom of which formidable creatures might be heard moving. My blood curdled when I saw enormous antennae blocking my road, or some frightful claw closing with a noise in the shadow of some cavity. Millions of luminous spots shone brightly in the midst of the darkness. They were the eyes of giant crustacea crouched in their holes; giant lobsters setting themselves up like halberdiers, and moving their claws with the clicking sound of pincers; titanic crabs, pointed like a gun on its carriage; and frightful-looking poulps, interweaving their tentacles like a living nest of serpents.

Two hours after leaving the Nautilus, we had passed the line of trees. The mountain peak rose a hundred feet above our heads, casting a shadow across the brilliantly lit opposite slope. Petrified shrubs grew here and there in fantastic shapes. Fish sprang up beneath our feet like birds in long grass. The massive rocks were split by cracks too narrow to enter, deep caves, and holes of unknown depth. At the bottom of these holes, I could hear fearsome creatures moving. My blood ran cold when enormous antennae blocked my path. It also ran cold when a terrifying claw snapped shut in the darkness of a hollow. Millions of bright spots shone in the darkness. They were the eyes of giant crustaceans crouching in their holes. Giant lobsters stood upright like soldiers with halberds, snapping their claws like pincers. Enormous crabs pointed forward like cannons on their carriages. Frightening octopuses intertwined their tentacles like a living nest of snakes.

We had now arrived on the first platform, where other surprises awaited me. Before us lay some picturesque ruins, which betrayed the hand of man and not that of the Creator. There were vast heaps of stone, amongst which might be traced the vague and shadowy forms of castles and temples, clothed with a world of blossoming zoophytes, and over which, instead of ivy, sea-weed and fucus threw a thick vegetable mantle. But what was this portion of the globe which had been swallowed by cataclysms? Who had placed those rocks and stones like cromlechs of prehistoric times? Where was I? Whither had Captain Nemo’s fancy hurried me?

We had now reached the first platform, where more surprises awaited me. Before us lay picturesque ruins, clearly made by human hands, not by the Creator. Among vast heaps of stone, I could make out the faint, shadowy shapes of castles and temples. They were covered with countless flowering zoophytes. Instead of ivy, seaweed and fucus draped them in a thick mantle of vegetation. But what part of the globe was this, swallowed up by cataclysms? Who had arranged those rocks and stones like prehistoric cromlechs? Where was I? Where had Captain Nemo’s imagination taken me?

I would fain have asked him; not being able to, I stopped him—I seized his arm. But, shaking his head, and pointing to the highest point of the mountain, he seemed to say:

I wanted to ask him, but I could not, so I stopped him and grabbed his arm. But he shook his head and pointed to the highest point of the mountain. He seemed to say:

“Come, come along; come higher!”

“Come on, come along. Come higher!”

I followed, and in a few minutes I had climbed to the top, which for a circle of ten yards commanded the whole mass of rock.

I followed, and within a few minutes I had climbed to the top. The top was ten yards around and overlooked the entire mass of rock.

I looked down the side we had just climbed. The mountain did not rise more than seven or eight hundred feet above the level of the plain; but on the opposite side it commanded from twice that height the depths of this part of the Atlantic. My eyes ranged far over a large space lit by a violent fulguration. In fact, the mountain was a volcano.

I looked down the side we had just climbed. The mountain rose only seven or eight hundred feet above the plain. But on the opposite side, it stood twice as high above the depths of this part of the Atlantic. I could see far across a large area lit by an intense glow. The mountain was a volcano.

At fifty feet above the peak, in the midst of a rain of stones and scoriae, a large crater was vomiting forth torrents of lava which fell in a cascade of fire into the bosom of the liquid mass. Thus situated, this volcano lit the lower plain like an immense torch, even to the extreme limits of the horizon. I said that the submarine crater threw up lava, but no flames. Flames require the oxygen of the air to feed upon and cannot be developed under water; but streams of lava, having in themselves the principles of their incandescence, can attain a white heat, fight vigorously against the liquid element, and turn it to vapour by contact.

Fifty feet above the peak, a large crater poured out torrents of lava amid a rain of stones and volcanic debris. The lava fell in a cascade of fire into the surrounding water. From its position, the volcano lit the plain below like an immense torch, all the way to the horizon. I said that the underwater crater threw up lava, but no flames. Flames need oxygen from the air to burn, so they cannot form underwater. But streams of lava have the source of their heat within them. They can become white-hot, struggle fiercely against the water, and turn it to vapor on contact.

Rapid currents bearing all these gases in diffusion and torrents of lava slid to the bottom of the mountain like an eruption of Vesuvius on another Terra del Greco.

Rapid currents carrying all these spreading gases and torrents of lava flowed down to the foot of the mountain. It was like an eruption of Vesuvius flowing toward another Terra del Greco.

There indeed under my eyes, ruined, destroyed, lay a town—its roofs open to the sky, its temples fallen, its arches dislocated, its columns lying on the ground, from which one would still recognise the massive character of Tuscan architecture. Further on, some remains of a gigantic aqueduct; here the high base of an Acropolis, with the floating outline of a Parthenon; there traces of a quay, as if an ancient port had formerly abutted on the borders of the ocean, and disappeared with its merchant vessels and its war-galleys. Farther on again, long lines of sunken walls and broad, deserted streets—a perfect Pompeii escaped beneath the waters. Such was the sight that Captain Nemo brought before my eyes!

There before my eyes lay a ruined city. Its roofs were open to the sky, its temples had fallen, and its arches were out of place. Its columns lay on the ground, but one could still recognize the massive character of Tuscan architecture. Farther on stood the remains of a gigantic aqueduct. Here was the high base of an Acropolis, with the hazy outline of a Parthenon. There were traces of a quay. It was as if an ancient port had once stood at the ocean’s edge, then vanished with its merchant ships and war galleys. Still farther on were long lines of sunken walls and broad, deserted streets, a perfect Pompeii beneath the waters. Such was the sight Captain Nemo brought before my eyes!

Where was I? Where was I? I must know at any cost. I tried to speak, but Captain Nemo stopped me by a gesture, and, picking up a piece of chalk-stone, advanced to a rock of black basalt, and traced the one word:

Where was I? Where was I? I had to know at any cost. I tried to speak, but Captain Nemo stopped me with a gesture. He picked up a piece of chalk, walked to a black basalt rock, and wrote one word:

ATLANTIS

ATLANTIS

What a light shot through my mind! Atlantis! the Atlantis of Plato, that continent denied by Origen and Humbolt, who placed its disappearance amongst the legendary tales. I had it there now before my eyes, bearing upon it the unexceptionable testimony of its catastrophe. The region thus engulfed was beyond Europe, Asia, and Lybia, beyond the columns of Hercules, where those powerful people, the Atlantides, lived, against whom the first wars of ancient Greeks were waged.

Suddenly, I understood! Atlantis! Plato’s Atlantis, the continent whose existence Origen and Humbolt denied, dismissing its disappearance as a legend. There it was before my eyes, bearing unquestionable evidence of the catastrophe that had destroyed it. The sunken region lay beyond Europe, Asia, and Lybia, beyond the columns of Hercules. There lived the powerful Atlantides, against whom the ancient Greeks fought their first wars.

Thus, led by the strangest destiny, I was treading under foot the mountains of this continent, touching with my hand those ruins a thousand generations old and contemporary with the geological epochs. I was walking on the very spot where the contemporaries of the first man had walked.

So, led by the strangest fate, I was walking on the mountains of this continent. I touched ruins a thousand generations old, dating back to the geological epochs. I was walking on the very spot where people who lived alongside the first man had walked.

Whilst I was trying to fix in my mind every detail of this grand landscape, Captain Nemo remained motionless, as if petrified in mute ecstasy, leaning on a mossy stone. Was he dreaming of those generations long since disappeared? Was he asking them the secret of human destiny? Was it here this strange man came to steep himself in historical recollections, and live again this ancient life—he who wanted no modern one? What would I not have given to know his thoughts, to share them, to understand them! We remained for an hour at this place, contemplating the vast plains under the brightness of the lava, which was some times wonderfully intense. Rapid tremblings ran along the mountain caused by internal bubblings, deep noise, distinctly transmitted through the liquid medium were echoed with majestic grandeur. At this moment the moon appeared through the mass of waters and threw her pale rays on the buried continent. It was but a gleam, but what an indescribable effect! The Captain rose, cast one last look on the immense plain, and then bade me follow him.

As I tried to memorize every detail of the magnificent landscape, Captain Nemo stood motionless, leaning against a mossy stone. He seemed frozen in silent wonder. Was he dreaming of the generations that had vanished long ago? Was he asking them for the secret of human destiny? Was this where the strange man came to immerse himself in memories of history and live that ancient life again? He wanted no part of modern life. What I would have given to know his thoughts, to share them, to understand them! We stayed there for an hour, gazing at the vast plains in the glow of the lava. At times the light was wonderfully intense. Quick tremors ran through the mountain, caused by bubbling deep inside it. Deep noises traveled clearly through the water and echoed with majestic grandeur. Then the moon appeared through the water, casting its pale rays over the buried continent. It was only a gleam, but what an indescribable effect it had! The Captain stood up, cast one last look at the immense plain, and told me to follow him.

We descended the mountain rapidly, and, the mineral forest once passed, I saw the lantern of the Nautilus shining like a star. The Captain walked straight to it, and we got on board as the first rays of light whitened the surface of the ocean.

We went down the mountain quickly. Once we had passed the mineral forest, I saw the Nautilus’s lantern shining like a star. The Captain walked straight to the vessel, and we boarded as the first rays of light whitened the ocean’s surface.