Part 1 · Chapter 10The Man of the Seas

It was the captain of the ship who said that. At those words, Ned Land jumped up. The steward, nearly choking, stumbled out after a signal from his boss; but the captain’s authority on board was so strong that not a single move showed the resentment this guy must have felt towards the Canadian.

Conseil, interested despite himself, and me, totally stunned, waited in silence to see what would happen.

The captain, leaning against a table corner with his arms crossed, looked us over carefully. Was he hesitating to speak? Did he regret the French words he’s just said? You could almost think so.

After a few moments of silence - none of us dared to break it - he said, Gentlemen, in a calm, clear voice, I speak French, English, German, and Latin just as well. I could have answered you from the start, but I wanted to get to know you first, then think things through.

The story you each told, agreeing on the main points, convinced me who you are.

"I know now that chance has brought before me M. Pierre Aronnax, Professor of Natural History at the Paris Museum, on a scientific mission abroad, with his assistant, Conseil, and Ned Land, a Canadian, a harpooner on the American frigate Abraham Lincoln."

I nodded. It wasn't a question, so there was nothing to answer. This guy was speaking perfectly, without an accent. His sentences were well-formed, his words clear, and his speaking skills were amazing. Still, I didn't recognize him as an American.

He continued, "You probably thought I was taking a long time to visit you again. The truth is, once I knew who you were, I wanted to carefully consider how to act towards you. I’ve been really wrestling with this."

"Annoying circumstances have put you in the presence of a man who’s broken all the ties of humanity. You’ve come to bother me." "Unintentionally!" I said.

"Unintentionally?" the stranger replied, raising his voice a little. " Was it unintentional that the Abraham Lincoln chased me all over the ocean? Was it unintentional that you stowed away on that frigate? Was it unintentional that your cannonballs bounced off my ship’s hull?"

"Was it unintentional that Mr. Ned Land threw a harpoon at me?"

I could hear a bit of annoyance in his words. But to these accusations, I had a very natural response, and I gave it.

"Sir," I said, "you probably don’t know about the discussions happening in America and Europe about you. You don't know that several accidents caused by collisions with your submarine have caused a lot of public concern on both continents."

"I won't even go into all the theories trying to explain the unbelievable thing that only you know the secret to. But you need to understand that, when the Abraham Lincoln chased you across the Pacific, it believed it was hunting a huge sea monster, something it had to get rid of at any cost."

A small smile played on the commander's lips, then, in a calmer tone -

"M. Aronnax," he replied, "do you honestly think your frigate wouldn’t have fired on a submarine as readily as it would a monster?"

That question put me on the spot, because, let's be honest, Captain Farragut probably wouldn’t have hesitated. He might have thought it his duty to destroy something like that, just as he would a giant narwhal.

"You understand then, sir," continued the stranger, "that I have the right to treat you as enemies?"

I said nothing, on purpose. What good would it do to argue, when force could wipe out the best arguments?

"I’d been thinking about this for a while," the commander continued.

"Nothing really made me offer you hospitality. If I wanted to, I could’ve just cut you off, you know? I could’ve left you on the deck of this ship that’s been keeping you safe, or just let it sink, and pretend you never existed. Would that be wrong?"

"Maybe, but a savage would do that," I replied. "Not a decent person."

"Professor," the commander shot back quickly, "I’m not what you’d call a decent person! I’m done with society, totally out of it, for reasons that are my business. So, I don't follow its rules, and I don’t want you bringing them up around me, ever!"

He said it straight up. A flash of anger and disgust crossed the Unknown’s face, and I got a glimpse of a rough past in this guy’s life. He’s not just outside the law, he’s completely free, beyond any control!

Who’s gonna chase him down at the bottom of the ocean when he’s defying everyone on the surface? What ship could stand up to his underwater monitor? What armor could stop his spurs?

No one could question his actions; if he even believed in God - or had a conscience - those were the only judges he answered to.

Those thoughts zipped through my head while the stranger was quiet, lost in his own world. I looked at him, a mix of fear and interest, just like I imagine Œdipus looked at the Sphinx.

After a long silence, the commander started talking again.

"I’d been thinking about it," he said.

"But I figured my interests could be balanced with the kind of pity everyone deserves. You’re staying on board my ship, since fate put you here. You’re free, and in return for that freedom, I’m just asking for one thing. Your word of honor to accept it will be enough."

"Go ahead, sir," I replied. "I’d guess this is a condition a decent person could agree to?"

"Yeah, sir. It’s this. There might be situations, unexpected things, that could mean I need to keep you locked in your cabin for a few hours, or even a few days, depending on what’s going on. Since I don’t want to use force, I expect you, especially, to just go along with it."

"I’m taking full responsibility; I’m completely clearing you of any blame, because I’m making it impossible for you to see things you shouldn’t." "Do we have a deal?"

Then things started happening on board that were, to put it mildly, weird, and that people not outside the law shouldn’t see. This could be one of the biggest surprises waiting for me.

"We accept," I answered. "But could I ask you one question, sir? Just one?" "Go ahead, sir."

"You said we’re free on board." "Totally."

"So, what do you mean by that?"

"Just the freedom to come and go, to see and observe what’s happening here - except for a few rare exceptions - the same kind of freedom my companions and I enjoy."

It was clear we weren’t on the same page.

"Excuse me, sir," I started again. " But this kind of freedom is just what a prisoner has when they pace their cell. It’s not enough for us." "It’s gotta be enough."

"What? We have to give up seeing our country, our friends, our families again?"

"Yeah, sir. But giving up that ridiculous idea of freedom people call life isn't as painful as you think."

"Well," Ned Land blurted out, "I’ll never give my word of honor not to try and escape."

"I didn’t ask you for your word of honor, Master Land," the commander said, coldly.

"Seriously," I replied, starting to get frustrated, "you’re taking advantage of our situation. It’s just cruel."

"No, sir, it’s mercy. You’re my prisoners of war. I could, with a single word, drop you into the ocean. You attacked me. You tried to uncover a secret that nobody in the world can ever know - the whole story of my life. And you think I’m gonna send you back to a world that can’t know me anymore?"

"Never! Keeping you isn't about protecting you - it’s about protecting myself."

Those words made it clear that the commander had made up his mind, and there was no point arguing.

"So, sir," I shot back, "you’re just giving us a choice between living and dying?" "Exactly."

"My friends," I said, "when you put it like that, there’s nothing to say. But we don't owe anything to the person in charge of this ship."

"That’s right," the Unknown replied.

Then, in a calmer voice, he continued, "Now, let me finish what I have to say to you. I know who you are, M. Aronnax. You and your friends probably won’t have much to complain about about how you ended up tied to my fate."

You'll find books here - my favorite things to read - including the work you published on ‘the depths of the sea. I’ve read it a lot. You’ve done as much as you could with what you know. But you don’t know everything - you haven’t seen everything.

"Let me tell you, Professor, that you won’t regret the time you spend on my vessel. You’re about to visit a world of wonders."

Those words really hit me. I have to admit it. He touched on a weak spot, and I forgot for a moment that thinking about these amazing things wasn't worth losing my freedom. Plus, I figured things would work out eventually. So, I just said, "What should I call you?"

"Sir," the commander replied, "you can call me Captain Nemo; and you and your friends are just passengers on the Nautilus."

Captain Nemo called out. A waiter appeared. The captain gave him instructions in that weird language I didn’t understand. Then, turning to the Canadian and Conseil, he said, "A meal is waiting for you in your cabin. Follow this man."

"And now, M. Aronnax, breakfast is ready. Let me lead the way."

"I’m at your service, Captain."

I followed Captain Nemo, and as soon as I walked through the door, I found myself in a kind of hallway lit by electricity, similar to the middle of a ship. After we walked about twenty feet, another door opened.

I then entered a dining room decorated in a simple, elegant style. Tall oak sideboards, trimmed with ebony, stood at either end of the room, and their shelves held china, porcelain, and glass worth a fortune.

The dishes on the table sparkled under the light from the glowing ceiling, while beautiful paintings softened the light.

In the center of the room was a table set with a fancy spread. Captain Nemo showed me where to sit.

The breakfast consisted of several dishes, all from the sea - and I had no idea how they were prepared. I’m not gonna lie, they were good, but they had a weird taste that I quickly got used to. These foods seemed packed with nutrients, and I figured they must have come from the ocean.

Captain Nemo looked at me. I didn't ask any questions, but he seemed to know what I was thinking and answered the questions I was dying to ask.

"Most of this food is probably new to you," he said to me.

"But feel free to try it - it's all good and healthy. I’m not really eating regular food anymore, and I feel great. My crew is healthy too, and they eat the same stuff."

"So," I said, "all this food comes from the ocean?"

"Exactly, Professor. The ocean gives me everything I need. Sometimes I tow my nets and pull them in, practically bursting with catch. Other times, I hunt in what feels like impossible places, finding game in my underwater forests."

"My animals, like old Neptune’s sheep, graze fearlessly in the huge prairies of the ocean. I’ve got a ton of property there, which I tend myself - always planted by the Creator of everything."

"I get that your nets give you great fish for your table, and I understand that you hunt underwater. But I cann't wrap my head around how any meat, even a tiny bit, could be on your menu."

"This, what you think is meat, Professor, is just turtle fillet. And those are dolphin livers - you’re probably thinking it's pork ragout. My cook is seriously talented, and he knows how to prepare all these ocean products. Go ahead and taste everything."

"Here’s a preserve made from holothuria - a Malay would say it’s the best in the world. And here’s a cream made from cetacean milk and sugar from the giant seaweed of the North Sea. Finally, let me offer you some anemone preserve - it’s as good as the most delicious fruit."

I tried it, more out of curiosity than anything else, while Captain Nemo blew me away with his amazing stories.

"You like the ocean, Captain?"

"Yeah, I love it! The ocean is everything. It covers most of the Earth. Its air is fresh and healthy. It’s like a massive, empty desert, but you’re never really alone because you can feel life all around. The ocean is like a glimpse into something supernatural and amazing."

It's all about love and feeling; it’s the ‘Living Infinite,’ as one of your poets said. Professor, Nature shows itself through all three of its kingdoms - mineral, plant, and animal - in the ocean. It’s the biggest reservoir of nature.

The Earth started with the ocean, so to speak, and who knows - maybe it will end with it? It's completely peaceful there. The ocean doesn't belong to rulers. On the surface, people can still enforce unfair laws, fight, hurt each other, and be swept up in earthly chaos.

"But thirty feet below, their power disappears. Seriously, sir, live - live in the heart of the waters! That’s where you’re truly independent! I don’t answer to anyone there! That’s where I’m free!"

Suddenly, Captain Nemo went quiet, totally caught up in his excitement. He paced around for a few minutes, looking really worked up. Then he calmed down, got back to his usual cool expression, and turned to me -

"Alright, Professor," he said, "if you want to see the Nautilus, I’m ready."

Captain Nemo stood up. I followed him. A double door at the back of the dining room opened, and I stepped into a room that was the same size as the one I'd just left.

This was a library. Tall, sleek furniture made of dark wood with brass accents held tons of books, all bound the same way. They lined the walls, ending in huge, comfy leather couches that curved for maximum relaxation. You could slide lightweight desks in and out to rest your book while you read.

In the middle of the room was a huge table covered in pamphlets and some old newspapers. Bright electric lights shone down from four simple globes nestled in the ceiling. I was seriously impressed by how cleverly this room was designed, and I could barely believe my eyes.

"Captain Nemo," I told my host, who had just flopped onto one of the couches, "this library could rival the best palaces in Europe, and I’m totally blown away that it can travel to the bottom of the ocean with you."

"Where else could you find such peace and quiet, Professor?" Captain Nemo replied.

"Did your study at the Museum offer that kind of silence?"

"Not even close, sir. And honestly, it’s pretty basic compared to yours. You must have six or seven thousand books here."

"Twelve thousand, M. Aronnax. These are the only things that still connect me to the surface world. But I left the world behind the day the Nautilus first dove beneath the waves."

"That day, I bought my last books, my last pamphlets, my last articles, and ever since, I've hoped that people stopped thinking and writing. These books are yours, Professor, feel free to use them."

I thanked Captain Nemo and headed over to the bookshelves. There were tons of books on science, philosophy, and literature in every language. But I didn't see a single book on economics - it seemed like that topic was off-limits. Weirdly, all the books were arranged randomly, no matter the language.

It was clear that the Captain of the Nautilus just grabbed whatever he happened to pick up.

"Sir," I said to the Captain, "I appreciate you letting me use this library. It’s full of scientific treasures, and I’m definitely going to make the most of it."

"This room isn’t just a library," Captain Nemo said, "it’s also a smoking lounge."

"A smoking lounge!" I exclaimed.

"So you actually smoke on board?" "Of course."

"Then, sir, I have to assume you’ve been communicating with Havana."

"Not at all," the Captain replied.

"Take this cigar, M. Aronnax; even though it doesn’t come from Havana, I think you’ll enjoy it if you’re a smoker."

I took the cigar, which looked like the ones you get in London, but seemed to be made of golden leaves. I lit it with a little burner on an elegant bronze stand and took a few puffs, feeling like a smoker who hadn’t had a cigarette in two days.

"This is great, but it’s not tobacco."

"Nope," the Captain said. " This tobacco comes from neither Havana nor the East. It’s a kind of seaweed, really rich in nicotine, that the ocean provides me - though not very often."

Just then, Captain Nemo opened a door across from where I’s entered the library, and I stepped into a huge, brightly lit lounge.

It was a massive, square room, thirty feet long, eighteen wide, and fifteen high. A luminous ceiling decorated with swirling patterns cast a soft, clear light over all the amazing things in this museum.

It was like a museum, really, where someone with a brilliant and generous mind had gathered all the treasures of nature and art, in the same chaotic way you’d find in a painter’s studio.

Thirty incredible paintings, all framed the same way, hung on the walls separated by bright curtains, and decorated with cool, modern tapestries. I saw works worth a ton - most of them I’d checked out before in special collections across Europe and at big art shows.

All the major artists from the past were represented: a Madonna by Raphael, a Virgin by Leonardo da Vinci, a nymph by Corregio, a woman by Titian, an Adoration by Veronese, an Assumption by Murillo, a portrait by Holbein, a monk by Velázquez, a martyr by Ribera, a beauty by Rubens, two landscapes by Teniers, three small "everyday life" scenes by Gerard Dow, Metsu, and Paul Potter, two pieces by Géricault and Prudhon, and some seascapes by Backhuysen and Vernet.

There were also works by modern painters like Delacroix, Ingres, Decamps, Troyon, Meissonier, Daubigny, and others. Plus, there were some seriously amazing marble and bronze statues, modeled after the best ancient sculptures, standing on pedestals around the huge museum.

Like the Captain of the Nautilus predicted, I was already totally blown away.

"Professor," this strange guy said, "you gotta excuse the casual way I’m welcoming you and the mess in this room."

"Sir," I replied, "I don’t need to know who you are to see you’re an artist."

"Just an amateur, sir. I used to love collecting these beautiful works made by human hands. I hunted them down like crazy, and I managed to gather some really valuable pieces. These are my last reminders of a world that's gone for me."

"To me, your modern artists are already ancient - they’ve got two or three thousand years under their belts! I just lump them all together in my head. Masters don’t have an age."

"And these musicians?" I asked, pointing to works by Weber, Rossini, Mozart, Beethoven, Haydn, Meyerbeer, Hérold, Wagner, Auber, Gounod, and a bunch of others, scattered across a giant model pipe organ built into the wall.

"These musicians," Captain Nemo replied, "are contemporaries of Orpheus. Because in the memory of the dead, all the timelines disappear. And I’m dead, Professor - as good as those of your friends sleeping six feet under the ground!"

Captain Nemo fell silent, lost in deep thought. I watched him with intense curiosity, trying to read his expression. Leaning on his arm against a corner of an expensive mosaic table, he seemed to not even notice me - he’s forgotten I was there.

I didn't interrupt his reverie and kept looking at all the cool stuff in the room.

Inside elegant glass cases, held together with copper rivets, were the most precious treasures from the sea that any scientist had ever seen. As a professor, you can imagine how excited I was.

The section with zoophytes had the most incredible examples of polypi and echinoderms.

In the polypi group, there were gorgons arranged like fans, soft sponges from Syria, ises from the Moluccas, pennatules, an amazing virgularia from the Norwegian seas, colorful unbellulairæ, alcyonariæ, a whole series of madrepores - which my mentor Milne Edwards classified so well.

I noticed some unbelievable flabellinæ oculinæ from the Island of Bourbon, the "Neptune’s car" from the Antilles, awesome varieties of corals - basically, every species of those bizarre polypi that build entire islands, which one day will become continents.

Among the echinoderms - known for their spiny coatings - there were asteri, sea-stars, pantacrinæ, comatules, astérophons, echini, holothuri, and more, all represented in a complete collection.

A pretty nervous shell collector would have totally fainted seeing the sheer number of other, more impressive specimens of mollusks. It was a collection worth a fortune, and honestly, I couldn’t even begin to describe it all.

From memory, I'd mention the elegant royal hammer-fish from the Indian Ocean - its bright white spots stood out on a red and brown background - plus an imperial spondyle, super colorful and covered in spines, a rare find in European museums (I figured it was worth at least £ten hundred!).

There was also a common hammer-fish from the seas of New Holland, seriously hard to get your hands on, exotic buccardia from Senegal, fragile white bivalve shells that could shatter like a soap bubble with a single breath, several varieties of the aspirgillum from Java - a kind of leafy, calcareous tube that always sparked debate among hobbyists - and a whole bunch of trochi, some greenish-yellow from American waters, others reddish-brown from Australia, and still more from the Gulf of Mexico, known for their layered shells.

Plus, stellari from the Southern Seas, and the rarest of all: the magnificent spur of New Zealand, and every other delicate, fragile shell science had given a name to.

Set apart in their own compartments were stunning strands of pearls that reflected the electric light like tiny sparks of fire.

There were pink pearls from the pinna-marina of the Red Sea, green pearls of the haliotyde iris, yellow, blue, and black pearls - the crazy creations of divers from every ocean - and some mussels from the streams of the North.

Last but not least, several specimens worth a ton that had been gathered from the rarest pintadines.

Some of these pearls were bigger than a pigeon’s egg and were worth just as much, or even more, than what the traveler Tavernier sold to the Shah of Persia for three million, and they surpassed the one the Imaum of Muscat possessed, which I thought was the best in the world.

Seriously, trying to figure out the value of this collection was impossible. Captain Nemo must have spent millions amassing all these specimens, and I was wondering where he’s gotten all the money to feed his collecting hobby, when he interrupted me with:

"You’re checking out my shells, Professor? I know they must be interesting to a naturalist; but they have a much deeper meaning to me. I collected them all myself, and there isn’t a sea on Earth that I haven’t explored."

"I totally get the thrill of being surrounded by so much treasure," I said.

"You're one of those who’s gathered their own. No museum in Europe has a collection of ocean treasures like this. But if I’m going to admire this, I’m going to need to admire the ship that carries it."

"I don’t want to pry, but I’m seriously curious about this Nautilus - the power source inside, the way it’s operated, the force that propels it - it’s all blowing my mind. I see instruments on the walls of this room that I have no clue how to use."

"You’ll find those same instruments in my own room, Professor, where I’m happy to explain how they work. But first, come check out the cabin I’ve set aside for you. You need to see how you’re going to be set up on board the Nautilus."

I followed Captain Nemo, who, through one of the doors opening from each panel of the drawing-room, got back to the deck. He led me towards the front of the ship, and there I found, not a cabin, but an elegant room, with a bed, dressing table, and other furniture. I could only thank my host.

"Your room’s right next to mine," he said, pushing open a door, "and mine opens into the living room we just left."

I stepped into the Captain’s room. It felt really stark, almost like a monk’s cell. There was a small metal bed, a table, and some toiletries - just the bare essentials, lit by a window in the ceiling. Not a lot of cozy touches.

Captain Nemo gestured to a chair.

"Please, have a seat," he said.

I sat down, and he started talking: Captain Nemo’s