Part 2 · Chapter 3A Pearl of Ten Millions

The next morning, at four a.m., I was jolted awake by the steward Captain Nemo had assigned to me. I jumped out of bed, got dressed, and headed to the main room.

Captain Nemo was already waiting.

"M. Aronnax," he said, "are you ready to go?" "Yeah, I’m ready." "Great, follow me." "And my friends, Captain?" "They know and are waiting."

"Are we not putting on our diving gear?" I asked.

"Not yet. I haven’t let the Nautilus get too close to the coast, and we’re still a ways from the Manaar Bank. But the boat’s ready, and it’s going to take us to the exact spot where we’re getting out, which will save us a lot of time."

"It’s got all our diving equipment, and we’ll suit up when we start our underwater journey."

Captain Nemo led me to the central staircase, which took us to the platform. Ned and Conseil were already there, super stoked about the "adventure" that was brewing. Five sailors from the Nautilus, with their oars, waited in the boat, which was tied up against the side.

It was still pretty dark out. Thick clouds blanketed the sky, letting only a few stars peek through. I looked towards the land and saw nothing but a dark line outlining three-quarters of the horizon, from southwest to northwest.

The Nautilus, having cruised up the western coast of Ceylon during the night, was now west of the bay, or rather gulf, formed by the mainland and the Island of Manaar. Beneath those dark waters stretched the pintadine bank, an endless field of pearls, over twenty miles long.

Captain Nemo, Ned Land, Conseil, and I hopped into the stern of the boat. The captain took the tiller; his four crewmates leaned on their oars, and we pushed off.

The boat headed south, and the rowers weren’t rushing. I noticed their strong strokes only happened every ten seconds, a common practice in the navy. As the boat glided along, droplets of water smacked against the dark waves like bursts of melted metal.

A small wave spread out, rocking the boat slightly, and some reeds swayed in the breeze.

We were quiet. What was Captain Nemo thinking about? Maybe the land he was approaching, which felt too close for his liking, unlike the Canadian’s opinion, who thought it was too far away. As for Conseil, he was just there out of curiosity.

Around half-past five, the first hints of light showed the coastline more clearly. It was pretty flat in the east but rose a little to the south. We were still five miles out, and it was hard to see through the mist on the water.

By six o’clock, it suddenly became daylight, a typical thing in tropical areas, which don’t really have a dawn or twilight. The sun’s rays broke through the curtain of clouds piled up on the eastern horizon, and the bright orb rose quickly. I could see land clearly, with a few scattered trees.

The boat neared Manaar Island, which was rounded to the south. Captain Nemo stood up and watched the sea.

At his signal, the anchor was dropped, but the chain barely ran out, because it was only a few feet deep, and this was one of the highest points of the pintadine bank.

"Here we are, M. Aronnax," said Captain Nemo. " See that enclosed bay? Soon it’s going to be full of fishing boats from the exporters, and those are the waters their divers will boldly search. Luckily, this bay is perfect for that kind of fishing."

"It’s protected from the strongest winds, and the sea is rarely rough here, which makes it good for diving. Let’s suit up and get started."

I didn't reply, and while keeping an eye out for any suspicious movement, I started getting into my heavy diving gear with the help of the sailors. Captain Nemo and my friends were getting dressed too. None of the Nautilus crew were coming with us on this trip.

Soon, we were up to our necks in rubber diving suits; the air tanks were strapped to our backs. We didn’t need the Ruhmkorff lamps. Before putting on my copper helmet, I asked Captain Nemo a question.

"They wouldn’t be useful," he said.

"We’re not going that deep, and the sunlight will be enough to light our way. Plus, it wouldn’t be smart to carry electric lights in these waters; the brightness might attract some of the dangerous creatures along the coast at a really bad time."

As Captain Nemo said this, I turned to Conseil and Ned Land. But my two friends had already put on their metal helmets, and they couldn't hear or respond.

One last thing I needed to ask Captain Nemo.

"And our weapons?" I asked; "our guns?"

"Guns? What for? Don’t mountain climbers attack a bear with a knife in their hand, and isn’t steel more reliable than bullets? Here’s a strong blade; put it in your belt, and let’s go."

I looked at my friends; they were armed like me, and even more, Ned Land was brandishing a huge harpoon, which he’s placed in the boat before leaving the Nautilus.

Then, following the Captain’s lead, I let myself be dressed in the heavy copper helmet, and our air tanks immediately kicked in. A moment later, we were all dropped off, one after another, in about two feet of water on a flat, sandy bottom.

Captain Nemo gave a signal with his hand, and we followed him down a gentle slope until we disappeared beneath the waves.

All around our feet, like a flock of birds taking flight, swarms of fish, of the monoptera family, rose up - they only have tails for fins.

I spotted Javanese fish, real serpents two and a half feet long, a pale color underneath, and easily mistaken for conger eels if you didn't notice the golden stripes on their sides.

Among the stromateus fish, with their flat, oval bodies, I saw some of the most vibrant colors, their dorsal fins like sickles; they're a great fish to eat, dried and pickled, known as Karawade.

Then there were tranquebars, belonging to the apsiphoroides family, their bodies covered in a shell armor made of eight long plates.

The rising sun lit up the water more and more. The seabed started to change. The fine sand gave way to a perfect path of boulders, covered in a carpet of shellfish and zoophytes.

Among these branching creatures, I noticed placenae, with thin, uneven shells, a kind of ostracion unique to the Red Sea and the Indian Ocean; bright orange lucinae with rounded shells; rockfish over three feet long, which rose from the waves like hands ready to grab something.

There were also panopyres, faintly glowing, and finally, oculines, like magnificent fans, creating one of the richest plant life in these seas.

Amidst these living plants, and beneath the arbors of the hydrophytes, were layers of clumsy creatures, particularly raninae, whose carapaces formed a slightly rounded triangle; and some really creepy-looking parthenopes.

Around seven o’clock, we finally arrived at the oyster beds where the pearl oysters reproduce by the millions.

Captain Nemo pointed to a huge pile of oysters, and I totally got why this place was a goldmine - Nature’s creativity is way beyond anything humans can destroy. Ned Land, going with his instincts, quickly started filling a net with some of the best ones.

But we couldn’t stop; we had to follow the Captain, who seemed to know exactly where he was going. The ground was definitely rising, and sometimes, when I raised my arm, it was above the water. Then the level of the bank would randomly drop. We kept rounding these massive, pyramid-shaped rocks.

In their dark cracks, huge crustaceans, perched on their giant claws like some kind of war machine, stared at us with fixed eyes, and all kinds of worms crawled under our feet.

Suddenly, a large grotto opened up before us, carved into a scenic pile of rocks and covered in thick, underwater plants. At first, it was super dark. The sunlight seemed to fade away, getting dimmer and dimmer until it was just a blurry, underwater glow. Captain Nemo went in, and we followed.

My eyes quickly adjusted to the low light. I could make out arches springing randomly from natural pillars, standing strong on their granite bases, like the big columns in old-style buildings. Why had our mysterious guide led us to the bottom of this underwater cave? I was about to find out.

After going down a pretty steep slope, our feet touched the bottom of a circular pit. There, Captain Nemo stopped and pointed to something I hadn’t noticed yet.

It was an oyster, seriously huge - a gigantic tridacne, like a goblet that could hold an entire lake of holy water, or a bowl wider than two and a half yards, bigger than the fancy one in the Nautilus’s lounge. I walked over to this crazy mollusk.

It was stuck to a granite table with its filaments, growing all by itself in the calm waters of the grotto. I guessed it weighed around six hundred pounds. That oyster would have about thirty pounds of meat, and you’d need the stomach of a giant to eat a bunch of them.

Captain Nemo clearly knew about this bivalve and seemed to have a specific reason for checking on it. The shells were slightly open, so the Captain came close and slid his dagger between them to keep them from closing.

Then he lifted the membrane with its fringed edges, like a cloak for the creature. And there, between the folded layers, I saw a pearl - as big as a coconut. Its perfect, round shape, crystal-clear look, and amazing shine made it a jewel worth a fortune.

I reached out to grab it, to weigh it, to touch it, but the Captain stopped me, gave a look of refusal, and quickly pulled out his dagger. The shells snapped shut. I realized what Captain Nemo was doing. By leaving the pearl hidden in the mollusk’s mantle, he was letting it grow slowly.

Every year, the creature’s secretions would add new rings. I figured it was worth at least five hundred pounds,zero.

After ten minutes, Captain Nemo suddenly stopped. I thought he was about to turn back. Nope; with a gesture, he told us to huddle beside him in a deep crack in the rock. His hand pointed to one part of the water, which I watched closely.

About fifteen feet away, a shadow appeared and sank to the ground. A scary thought about sharks flashed through my mind, but I was wrong. It wasn’t a sea monster we were dealing with this time.

It was a guy, a real person, an Indian, a fisherman - a seriously unlucky dude who, I guess, was trying to gather some oysters before the harvest. I could see the bottom of his canoe anchored a little ways above his head. He dove and surfaced repeatedly.

A rock, shaped like a sugar cone, held between his feet, and a rope tied to his boat, helped him descend quickly. That was all his gear. Reaching the bottom, about fifteen feet down, he got on his knees and filled his bag with oysters he grabbed at random.

Then he’d surface, empty it, pull up his rock, and start all over - it took about thirty seconds.

The diver didn’t see us. The shadow of the rock hid us. And how would this poor Indian ever think that people, just like him, would be down there underwater, watching his moves and catching every detail of the fishing? He dove up and down a bunch of times.

He didn’t take more than ten oysters at a time, because he had to pull them from the bank where they were stuck with their strong, sticky threads. And how many of those oysters he risked his life for didn’t have a pearl inside!

I watched him closely; his moves were regular; and for half an hour, no danger seemed to be around.

I was starting to get used to watching this interesting fishing when suddenly, as the Indian was on the ground, I saw him make a terrified gesture, jump up, and spring to get back to the surface of the sea.

I knew what he was scared of. A huge shadow appeared right above the poor diver. It was a shark, massive, with eyes that glowed and its jaws wide open. I was frozen with horror, totally unable to move.

The hungry thing shot towards the Indian, who threw himself to the side to avoid the shark’s fins - but not its tail, which hit his chest and knocked him to the ground.

The whole scene lasted only a few seconds: the shark came back, and, flipping over, got ready to slice the Indian in two, when I saw Captain Nemo suddenly rise up, and then, with a dagger in his hand, walk straight to the monster, ready to fight face to face.

The moment the shark was about to snap the poor fisherman in half, it spotted its new opponent and, flipping over again, charged straight towards it.

I can still picture Captain Nemo’s position. Holding himself steady, he waited for the shark with amazing coolness; and when it attacked, he threw himself to the side with incredible speed, dodging the impact and plunging his dagger deep into its side. But it wasn't over yet. A brutal fight began.

The shark seemed to roar, if you can call it that. Blood gushed from its wound. The sea turned red, and through the thick liquid, I couldn't see anything more.

Nothing more until, like a flash, I saw the fearless Captain hanging onto one of the creature’s fins, wrestling, as it were, hand to hand with the monster, and throwing a series of blows at his enemy, yet still unable to land a decisive one.

The shark’s struggles churned the water so violently that the rocking threatened to capsize me.

I wanted to help the Captain, but I was paralyzed with fear and couldn't move.

I saw its wild eye; I saw the different stages of the fight. The Captain fell to the ground, knocked over by the enormous weight pressing down on him.

The shark’s jaws opened wide, like a pair of industrial shears, and it would have been over for the Captain; but, as quick as thought, harpoon in hand, Ned Land rushed towards the shark and struck it with its sharp point.

The waves were saturated with a mass of blood. They rocked under the shark’s movements, which beat against them with incredible fury. Ned Land hadn't missed. It was the monster’s death throes. Struck in the heart, it convulsed in a terrifying way, the shock of which knocked Conseil off his feet.

But Ned Land had freed the Captain, who got up without a scratch. He went straight to the Indian, quickly cut the rope holding him to the rock, scooped him up, and with a quick kick of his heel, shot to the surface.

We all three followed a few seconds later, saved by a miracle, and reached the fisherman’s boat.

Captain Nemo’s first move was to bring the unfortunate man back to life. I wasn’t sure he could do it. I hoped he would, because the guy hadn’t been underwater that long; but the shark’s tail could have been a fatal blow.

Luckily, with the Captain and Conseil’s quick work, I saw him start to come around. He opened his eyes. Imagine his shock, his terror even, seeing four huge copper heads leaning over him!

And, most of all, what must he have thought when Captain Nemo, pulling a bag of pearls from his pocket, put it in his hand! This super-generous gift from the man of the sea to the poor Cingalese was accepted with trembling hands.

His wide-eyed gaze showed he didn’t know to what superhuman beings he owed both his fortune and his life.

At a nod from the Captain, we headed back to the shore, following the path we’d already taken, and reached the anchor holding the Nautilus’s canoe to the ground in about half an hour.

Once on board, we each, with the sailors’ help, ditched the heavy copper helmets.

Captain Nemo’s first words were to the Canadian.

"Thanks, Master Land," he said.

"It was payback, Captain," replied Ned Land. " I owed you that."

A creepy smile flickered across the Captain’s face, and that was all. "To the Nautilus," he said.

The boat zipped over the waves. A few minutes later, we spotted the shark’s dead body floating. By the dark markings at the ends of its fins, I recognized the terrifying melanopteron of the Indian Seas, a type of shark properly called.

It was over twenty-five feet long; its enormous mouth took up a third of its body. It was an adult, as you could tell by its six rows of teeth arranged in an isosceles triangle in the upper jaw.

While I was checking out this lifeless mass, a dozen of these hungry beasts showed up around the boat; and, without even noticing us, threw themselves at the dead body and fought each other for pieces.

By eight-thirty, we were back on the Nautilus. There, I thought about what had happened on our trip to Manaar Bank.

I had to draw two conclusions - one about Captain Nemo’s unbelievable courage, the other about his dedication to a human being, a representative of the race he’d fled beneath the sea. Whatever he said, this strange man hadn’t completely crushed his heart.

When I pointed this out to him, he answered in a slightly emotional tone:

"That Indian, sir, is from an oppressed country; and I am still, and will be, until my last breath, one of them!"