Part 1 · Chapter 15A Walk on the Bottom of the Sea

This room was, honestly, the armory and closet for the Nautilus. A dozen diving suits hung from the wall, waiting for us to use them.

Ned Land, when he saw them, clearly didnn't want to put one on.

"But, my good Ned, the forests of Crespo Island are just underwater forests."

"Awesome!" said the disappointed harpooner, seeing his dreams of fresh meat disappear.

"And you, Professor, are you going to suit up?"

"There’s no other choice, Ned."

"Whatever you say, sir," replied the harpooner, shrugging.

"But I’m not getting into one unless I absolutely have to."

"No one will force you, Ned," said Captain Nemo.

"What about Conseil?" asked Ned.

"I follow my master wherever he goes," replied Conseil.

At the Captain’s signal, two of the crew came to help us get into these heavy, waterproof suits, made of seamless rubber and designed to handle serious pressure. They looked like a mix of armor and flexible gear. The suit was like pants and a vest.

The pants ended in thick boots with heavy lead soles. The vest was held together by copper bands across the chest, protecting it from the water pressure while letting your lungs breathe. The sleeves ended in gloves that didn’t restrict hand movement.

They were way better than the old cork vests and jackets people used back in the 1700s.

Captain Nemo, one of his crewmates (a real powerhouse who must’ve been super strong), Conseil, and I were soon zipped up in the suits. All that was left was to put on the metal helmets. But before we did, I asked the Captain if I could check out the guns we were going to carry.

One of the crew handed me a simple gun. The butt, made of steel and hollow in the middle, was pretty big. It served as a tank for compressed air, which a spring-loaded valve released into a metal tube. A box of electric projectiles, grooved into the butt, held about twenty of them.

A spring forced each one into the barrel after a shot. You were always ready to fire again.

"Captain Nemo," I said, "this is a perfect weapon, easy to handle. I just want to try it out. But how are we going to reach the bottom of the sea?"

"Right now, Professor, the Nautilus is sitting on the seabed in about thirty feet of water, and we just need to get started." "But how will we move?" "You’ll see."

Captain Nemo put his head into the helmet, and Conseil and I did the same, hearing an ironic "Let’s go!" from the Canadian. The top of our suits ended in a copper collar where the metal helmet screwed on.

Three thick glass windows let us see in all directions by just turning our heads inside the helmet. As soon as it was in place, the Rouquayrol apparatus on our backs started working, and I could breathe easily.

With a Ruhmkorff lamp hanging from my belt and the gun in my hand, I was ready to go. But honestly, trapped in these heavy clothes and stuck to the deck by my leaden soles, it was impossible to take a step. I was ready to set out.

But someone had thought of that. I felt myself being pushed into a small room next to the closet. My companions followed, towed along the same way. I heard a watertight door with stopper plates close behind us, and we were plunged into complete darkness.

After a few minutes, a loud hissing filled the air. I felt a chill creep up from my feet to my chest. It seemed like they’d tapped a hole in the hull, letting water flood in, and the room filled up fast. A second door opened on the side of the Nautilus. We saw a faint light.

In a flash, our feet touched the ocean floor.

Now, how can I even begin to describe the feeling of walking under the water? Words just donn't cut it when it comes to something this amazing! Captain Nemo was out front, his companion a few steps behind. Conseil and I stuck close, like we could somehow talk through our metal suits.

I didn't feel the weight of my clothes, or my shoes, or even the air tank and helmet on my head - it rattled around in there like an almond in its shell.

The light, shining from thirty feet below the surface, was unbelievably bright. Sunlight streamed through the water easily, washing out all the colors, and I could see things clearly, a hundred and fifty yards away. Beyond that, the colors faded into deep blues and hazy shadows.

Seriously, this water felt like another kind of air - denser than the air we breathe, but almost as clear. Above us was the calm surface of the sea.

We were walking on smooth, even sand, not like a beach with rippled patterns left by the waves. This brilliant carpet, like a mirror, reflected the sunlight with incredible intensity, creating a vibration that went through every drop of water.

Can you believe I could see as clearly as if it were a sunny day, thirty feet underwater?

For fifteen minutes, I walked on this sand, covered with tiny shell dust. The hull of the Nautilus, looking like a long sandbar, slowly disappeared from view. But the lantern would guide us back on board with its bright beam when darkness fell.

Soon, shapes of things started to appear in the distance. I recognized huge rocks, covered with beautiful sea plants and coral. The whole scene was unlike anything I’d ever seen.

It was ten in the morning, and the sunlight hit the waves at an angle. The light, refracted through the water like a prism, created colorful edges on the rocks, plants, shells, and coral. It was incredible - a feast for the eyes!

A perfect mix of green, yellow, orange, violet, indigo, and blue, like an artist’s entire palette! I wished I could share the excitement surging through my brain with Conseil, and match his expressions of awe. Maybe Captain Nemo and his companion were exchanging thoughts with secret signals.

So, I just talked to myself; I rambled inside the copper box that covered my head, probably wasting precious air on pointless chatter.

Crazy coral formations - like, pure tuft-coral clusters, prickly mushrooms, and anemones - created this insane garden, all sparkly with tiny shells. Sea stars dotted the sandy bottom, and these delicate, lacy things, like lace stitched by magical water sprites, waved gently with our steps.

Seriously, it bummed me out to crush all these awesome shells under my feet - hammer-heads, bouncy shells called donaciae, spiral shells, and red helmet-shells, angel wings, and a ton of other stuff the ocean kept churning out.

But we had to keep moving, so we did, while schools of jellyfish floated above us, their tentacles trailing behind. Their umbrellas - opal or rose-pink, with a blue trim - shielded us from the sun and these fiery little guys, pelagiæ, that would’ve lit up our path with glowing light if it were dark.

I saw all these wonders in like, a quarter-mile, barely stopping, and following Captain Nemo, who was waving me on. Soon, the ground changed - the sandy area turned into this muddy, slimy stuff that Americans call "ooze," made up of equal parts of tiny shells.

We walked across this huge field of seaweed, super wild and lush. The grass was soft and dense, like the plushest carpet ever made. But the greenery didn't stop at our feet; a tangled network of marine plants, from that endless family of seaweed (there are over two thousand kinds!),

floated above the water. I saw long strips of kelp floating by - some round, some lumpy - plus these delicate laurenciæ and cladostephi, and some rhodomeniæ palmatæ that looked like cactus fans.

I noticed the green plants stayed closer to the surface, while the red ones hung out deeper, letting the dark brown plants create gardens in the faraway ocean beds.

We’d been away from the Nautilus for about an hour and a half. It was almost noon; I could tell because the sun's rays weren’t bent anymore. The magical colors faded away, and the emerald and sapphire shades disappeared.

We walked with a steady pace, and our footsteps echoed loudly - the slightest sound traveled super fast, way faster than we’d ever hear on land; water conducts sound way better than air, like four times as well.

At this point, the ground started sloping downwards, and the light took on a uniform color. We were about a hundred and five yards and twenty inches deep, feeling about six times the normal pressure.

Even at that depth, I could still see the sun’s rays, though they were faint. They’d turned into a reddish twilight, the last bit of light between day and night. But we could still see okay; we didn’t need the Ruhmkorff lamp just yet.

Then Captain Nemo stopped; he waited for me to catch up and pointed to this dark shape in the distance.

"It’s the forest of Crespo Island," I thought - and I was totally right.