Part 1 · Chapter 13The Black River

The Black River. It’s estimated that over eighty million acres of the Earth are covered in water. This huge mass of water - two billion two hundred and fifty million cubic miles - forms a spherical body with a diameter of sixty leagues, weighing three quintillions of tons.

To wrap your head around those numbers, think of it this way: a quintillion is to a billion what a billion is to one. There are as many billions in a quintillion as there are units in a billion. That’s roughly the amount of water that all the rivers on Earth would discharge in forty thousand years.

Throughout Earth’s history, volcanic activity followed periods of water dominance. Originally, the ocean covered everything. Then, gradually, during the Silurian period, mountain peaks started to show, and islands emerged, only to disappear under partial floods.

They reappeared, settled down, and formed continents, eventually shaping the Earth as we know it today. The solid landmasses have taken thirty-seven million six hundred and fifty-seven square miles - about twelve billion nine hundred and sixty million acres - from the water.

The shape of the continents lets us divide the oceans into five major areas: the Arctic or Frozen Ocean, the Antarctic or Frozen Ocean, the Indian, the Atlantic, and the Pacific Oceans.

The Pacific Ocean stretches from north to south between the polar circles and from east to west between Asia and America, covering an area of one hundred and forty-five degrees of longitude. It’s the calmest of the seas, with broad, slow currents, moderate tides, and plenty of rain.

It was the ocean my fate led me to travel across under these unusual circumstances.

"Sir," said Captain Nemo, "if you’re okay with it, we’ll take our bearings and set the starting point of this voyage. It’s a quarter till noon; I’ll head back up to the surface."

The Captain pressed an electric clock three times. The pumps started draining the water from the tanks, and the manometer needle showed a different pressure as the Nautilus began to rise. Then it stopped.

"We’re here," said the Captain.

I went to the central staircase, which opened onto the platform, climbed the iron steps, and found myself on the upper part of the Nautilus.

The platform was only three feet above the water. The front and back of the Nautilus were shaped like a spindle, which rightly earned it comparisons to a cigar. I noticed that its iron plates, slightly overlapping each other, resembled the shell covering the bodies of our large land reptiles.

It explained why, despite all the binoculars, people might have mistaken this boat for a sea creature.

Toward the middle of the platform, the longboat, half-buried in the hull of the vessel, formed a small bump.

Fore and aft were two cages of medium height with slanted sides, and partly closed by thick, rounded glass panels; one for the steersman who guided the Nautilus, the other holding a bright lantern to light the way.

The sea was gorgeous, the sky clear. The long vehicle barely felt the ocean’s gentle swells. A light breeze from the east rippled the water’s surface. The horizon, clear of fog, made observation easy. Nothing was in sight. Not a sandbar, not an island. A vast desert.

Captain Nemo, using his sextant, took the sun’s angle, which should also give the latitude. He waited for a few moments until its disc touched the horizon. During the observation, not a muscle moved; the instrument could not have been more still in a hand made of marble.

Captain Nemo measured the Sun’s altitude.

"Noon, sir," he said. "Whenever you’re ready - - "

I took one last look at the sea, slightly yellowed by the Japanese coast, and headed down to the saloon.

And now, sir, I’m leaving you to your studies, added the Captain. Our course is northeast, our depth is twenty-six fathoms. Here are maps - super detailed, so you can follow along. The lounge is yours to use, and with your permission, I’m heading out.

"Captain Nemo bowed, and I was left alone, totally lost in thoughts about the commander of the Nautilus."

For a whole hour, I was deep in these reflections, trying to figure out this mystery that was so captivating to me. Then, my eyes landed on the huge map spread across the table, and I put my finger on the exact spot where the latitude and longitude lines crossed.

The ocean has its own rivers, just like continents do. They're special currents known for their temperature and color. The most famous one is the Gulf Stream.

Scientists have mapped out five major currents all over the globe: one in the North Atlantic, a second in the South, a third in the North Pacific, a fourth in the South, and a fifth in the Southern Indian Ocean.

It’s even possible that a sixth current existed at some point in the Northern Indian Ocean, when the Caspian and Aral Seas were just one big body of water.

At the point on the map I was looking at, one of these currents was flowing - the Kuro-Shivo of Japan, the Black River.

It leaves the Bay of Bengal, where it’s warmed by the tropical sun, crosses the Straits of Malacca along the coast of Asia, turns into the North Pacific towards the Aleutian Islands, carrying with it logs of camphor trees and other plants, and edging the ocean waves with its warm, deep blue water.

That’s the current the Nautilus was following. I tracked it with my eye, watched it disappear into the vastness of the Pacific, and felt myself pulled along with it, when Ned Land and Conseil showed up at the lounge door.

My two brave companions were totally frozen by the wonders spread out before them.

"Where are we, where are we?" exclaimed the Canadian.

"Are we at the museum in Quebec?"

"My friends," I said, gesturing for them to come in, "you’re not in Canada, but on board the Nautilus, fifty yards below the surface of the sea."

"But, M. Aronnax," said Ned Land, "can you tell me how many people are on board? Ten, twenty, fifty, a hundred?"

"I can’t answer you, Mr. Land; it’s better to put aside any ideas about seizing the Nautilus or escaping from it for now. This ship is a masterpiece of modern engineering, and I’d be sad to not see it. Lots of people would accept our situation just to experience all these wonders."

"So, be quiet and let’s see what’s happening around us."

"See!" exclaimed the harpooner, "but we can’t see anything in this iron prison! We’re walking - we’re sailing - blindly."

Ned Land had barely finished speaking when everything suddenly went dark. The glowing ceiling vanished, so quickly it was almost painful to my eyes.

We stood silent, not moving, not knowing what surprise awaited us, whether it would be good or bad. A sliding sound echoed: it sounded like panels were moving along the sides of the Nautilus.

"This is it, the end of the line!" said Ned Land.

Suddenly, light burst through two long openings on either side of the lounge. The water appeared brilliantly lit up by the electric glow. Two crystal panels separated us from the sea.

At first, I was nervous that this thin barrier might break, but strong copper bands held them in place, giving them incredible strength.

The sea was clearly visible for a mile all around the Nautilus. What a sight! How can words describe it? Who could paint the effect of the light through those clear sheets of water, and the gentle changes in color from the lower to the upper layers of the ocean?

We know the ocean is unbelievably clear - way clearer than freshwater. Tiny bits of minerals and stuff floating in it actually make it more transparent. Down in the Caribbean, under almost five hundred feet of water, you can see a sandy bottom with surprising clarity.

Sunlight can reach down over eight hundred feet, but in the water around the Nautilus, we had this electric glow, like liquid light.

Windows on either side opened into this totally unexplored deep. The dimness of the lounge made the outside light pop, and we were staring out like we were looking into a giant aquarium.

"You wanted to see, right, Ned? Well, look at this," said Captain Nemo.

Whoa! Seriously cool! muttered the Canadian, who seemed to forget about being mad and was totally drawn in by the sight.

"I’d go a long way to see something like that!"

"I get it," I thought to myself.

"He’s built his own world here, and he treasures all his amazing discoveries."

For two whole hours, a school of aquatic animals swam alongside the Nautilus.

As they raced and played, showing off their beauty, speed, and colors, I spotted a bunch of different fish: bright green labre, banded mullet with a double line of black, round-tailed goby that were white with violet spots on their backs, Japanese scombrus - a gorgeous mackerel with a blue body and silvery head - and brilliant azurors, which are impossible to describe.

There were also banded spares with fins of blue and yellow, woodcocks of the sea, some as long as three feet, Japanese salamanders, spider lampreys, six-foot-long serpents with lively little eyes and a huge mouth full of teeth, and tons of other species.

Our imaginations were going wild. Ned was naming the fish, and Conseil was organizing them. I was totally mesmerized by how they moved and how beautiful they were. I’d never seen these animals alive and free in their natural habitat.

I won't even try to list all the kinds that swam by - it was a whole collection of fish from the seas of China and Japan. They were drawn in, no doubt, by the bright electric light.

Suddenly, the lounge lit up, the metal walls closed, and the incredible view vanished. But for a long time after, I kept dreaming about it, and then I noticed the instruments on the wall.

The compass still showed we were heading northeast, the pressure gauge showed five atmospheres - that’s about three hundred feet down - and the electric speed indicator said we were going fifteen miles an hour. I was waiting for Captain Nemo, but he didn't show. The clock said it was five o’clock.

Ned Land and Conseil went back to their rooms, and I went to my own. Dinner was ready. It was turtle soup made with the finest sea turtles, surmullet served with flaky pastry (the liver of which was unbelievably good), and fillets of the emperor-holocanthus, which tasted even better than salmon.

I spent the evening reading, writing, and thinking. Then, I fell asleep on my bed of seaweed, and slept like a log while the Nautilus sped through the current of the Black River.