Part 2 · Chapter 2A Novel Proposal of Captain Nemo’s

Taking some readings, I realized we were getting close to Ceylon, that gorgeous pearl hanging off the tip of India.

Captain Nemo and his second showed up then. The Captain glanced at the map and turned to me, saying:

"Ceylon - famous for its pearl fisheries. Wanna check one out, M. Aronnax?" "Definitely, Captain."

"Alright, it’s pretty simple. But if we see the fisheries, we probably won't see any fishermen. The annual harvest hasn’t started yet. No worries, I’ll order the crew to head towards the Gulf of Manaar - we’re there tonight."

The Captain spoke to his second, who immediately went out. Soon the Nautilus dove back down, and the pressure gauge showed we were about thirty feet deep.

"Well, sir," said Captain Nemo, "you and your crew will visit the Bank of Manaar. And if we happen to see a fisherman, we’ll watch him work." "Sounds good, Captain!"

"By the way, M. Aronnax - you not scared of sharks?"

"Sharks!" I exclaimed. That was a tough question.

"Well?" continued Captain Nemo.

"To be honest, Captain, I’m not super familiar with that kind of fish."

"We’re used to them," replied Captain Nemo, "and you will be too, in time. We’ll be armed, and we might even be able to hunt some along the way. It’s interesting, so - see you tomorrow, bright and early."

He said that casually and then left the room. If you were invited to hunt bears in the Swiss Alps, what would you say?

Sounds great! Let’s go hunt a bear tomorrow.

What if you were asked to hunt lions in the Atlas Mountains, or tigers in the Indian jungle?

Haha! Looks like we’re hunting a tiger or a lion!

But when you’re invited to hunt sharks in their natural habitat, you’d probably pause and think about it. Me? I wiped my forehead - it was covered in cold sweat.

Let's think this over, I said. I said...

"Hunting otters in underwater forests, like we did in the Island of Crespo - that’s fine. But going up and down at the bottom of the sea, where you're practically guaranteed to run into sharks - that’s a whole different ballgame!"

I know that in some places, especially the Andaman Islands, locals aren't afraid to attack them with a dagger in one hand and a noose in the other. But I also know that not many who challenge those creatures ever come back alive.

"Still, I’m not a local, and even if I were, I think a little hesitation would be understandable."

Just then, Conseil and the Canadian came in - totally relaxed and even excited. They had no idea what was ahead.

"Seriously, sir," said Ned Land, "your Captain Nemo - the devil take him! - just made us a really cool offer." "Oh?" I said.

"If you’re up for it, sir," interrupted Conseil, "the commander of the Nautilus invited us to check out the amazing Ceylon fisheries tomorrow - with you. He was really kind and acted like a total gentleman."

"He didn’t say anything else?"

"Nope, just that he’s already talked to you about it," replied Conseil.

"Sir," said Conseil, "can you tell us a bit about the pearl fishing?"

"About the fishing itself?" I asked, "or the stories and stuff that go with it?"

"About the fishing," replied the Canadian.

"It’s good to know something about it before we go."

"Okay, sit down, guys, and I’ll fill you in."

Ned and Conseil settled onto a comfy seat, and the first thing the Canadian asked was:

"Sir, what exactly is a pearl?"

"My friend Ned," I replied, "to a poet, a pearl is a tear from the ocean; to people from the East, it's a drop of dew turned solid; to the ladies, it’s a fancy jewel, shaped like an oval, with a shiny, pearly glow, that they wear on their fingers, necks, or ears."

"To a chemist, it’s a mix of phosphate and calcium carbonate with a bit of gelatine. And finally, to scientists, it’s just a weird secretion from an organ that makes mother-of-pearl in certain shellfish."

"Shellfish, huh?" said Conseil.

"Exactly, my knowledgeable Conseil! And among these shellfish - like earshells, tridacnas, turbots - basically any creature that secretes mother-of-pearl, that blue, bluish, violet, or white stuff lining their shells - can produce pearls."

"Even mussels?" asked the Canadian.

"Yep, certain mussels from waters in Scotland, Wales, Ireland, Saxony, Bohemia, and France."

"Awesome! I’ll pay attention from now on," replied the Canadian.

"But," I continued, "the specific shellfish that makes pearls is the pearl oyster, the meleagrina margaritifera, that valuable pintadine. A pearl is just a pearly deposit, shaped like a ball, either stuck to the oyster shell or hidden in the creature’s folds."

"It’s firmly attached to the shell, loose in the flesh, but always has a tiny, hard center - maybe a barren egg, maybe a grain of sand - around which the pearly material builds up, layer by layer, year after year."

"Do they find lots of pearls in one oyster?" asked Conseil.

"Sometimes, yeah. Some are like treasure chests. One oyster was even said to have contained a hundred and fifty... wait..."

"A hundred and fifty what?!" exclaimed Ned Land.

"Did I say sharks?" I said quickly. " I meant pearls. Sharks wouldn’t make sense."

"Definitely not," said Conseil; "so, how do they get these pearls out?"

"They use different methods. When they’re stuck to the shell, fishermen often pull them off with pliers. But the most common way is to lay the oysters on mats of seaweed that cover the ocean floor. They die in the open air, and after about ten days, they're starting to decompose."

"Then they’re dunked into big tanks of seawater, opened up, and washed clean."

"Does the price of these pearls depend on their size?" asked Conseil.

"Not just their size," I answered, "but also their shape, their color - what we call their ‘water’ - and their shine: that bright, sparkly glow that makes them so appealing to the eye. The most beautiful ones are called virgin pearls or paragons."

They’re formed alone in the shellfish’s tissue, are white, often opaque, and sometimes have the shimmer of an opal. They’re usually round or oval. The round ones become bracelets, the oval ones become pendants, and being more valuable, are sold individually.

"The ones still stuck to the oyster shell are more irregular in shape and are sold by weight. And then there are the small pearls, known as seed pearls; they’re sold by measure and are often used for embroidery on church decorations."

"But," said Conseil, "is pearl diving dangerous?"

"Not really," I answered quickly; "especially if you’re careful."

"What’s the risk in that kind of work?" said Ned Land.

"Just swallowing a little seawater?"

"Pretty much, Ned. By the way," I said, trying to sound casual like Captain Nemo, "are you scared of sharks, brave Ned?"

"Me?!" replied the Canadian; "a harpooner by trade? I make light of them."

"But," I said, "it’s not about using a special hook to catch them, yanking them into the boat, chopping off their tails with an axe, tearing them apart, and just tossing their insides into the ocean!"

"So, it’s a question of - - " "Exactly." "In the water?" "In the water."

"Seriously, with a good harpoon! You know, sir, these sharks are seriously messed up creatures. They flip over on their bellies to attack you, and in that moment - - " Ned Land had a way of saying "attack" that totally chilled me.

"Okay, and what about you, Conseil, what do you think about sharks?"

"Me!" said Conseil. "I’m just gonna be straight with you, sir." "That’s awesome," I thought.

"If you’re going up against the sharks, I don’t see why your loyal assistant shouldn’t face them with you."