Part 2 · Chapter 5The Arabian Tunnel

The Arabian Tunnel. That same evening, around twenty-one° thirty' North latitude, the Nautilus was floating on the surface of the sea, heading towards the Arabian coast. I spotted Jeddah, like, the biggest trading hub for Egypt, Syria, Turkey, and India.

I could totally make out the buildings, the boats anchored at the docks, and the ones that needed deeper water to stay put. The sun was getting low, hitting the town and making everything look super bright. Outside, there were some simple wooden shacks and reed huts - that’s where the Bedouins lived.

Soon, Jeddah disappeared in the shadows of night, and the Nautilus went underwater, glowing a little with phosphorescence.

The next day, February tenth, we saw a bunch of ships sailing into the wind. The Nautilus went back to its underwater navigation, but at noon, when they checked the location, the sea was empty, so it surfaced to the waterline.

Me and Conseil were hanging out with Ned on the platform. The coast on the eastern side looked like a blurry image in a foggy haze.

We were just chatting when Ned Land, reaching out towards a spot on the sea, said:

"Hey, do you see anything out there, sir?"

"Nah, Ned," I replied. "But you know I don’t have eyes like yours."

"Take a good look," Ned said. "There, on the right side, about the height of the lantern! Don’t you see something moving?"

"Yeah, I do," I said after staring closely. " It looks like a long, dark thing on top of the water."

And sure enough, before long, that dark thing was less than a mile away. It looked like a huge sandbar floating in the middle of the ocean. It was a gigantic dugong!

Ned Land was practically glued to the spot, his eyes gleaming with excitement. His hand looked like it was about to grab a harpoon. You’d think he was waiting to jump in the water and attack it in its natural habitat.

Just then, Captain Nemo showed up on the platform. He saw the dugong, figured out what the Canadian was up to, and said:

"If you were holding a harpoon just now, Master Land, would it burn your hand?"

"Yeah, it would," Ned replied.

"And you wouldn’t mind going back to your fishing job for a bit, adding this sea mammal to your list of kills?" "Wouldn’t be a problem, sir." "Well, go for it then."

"Thanks, sir," said Ned Land, his eyes practically on fire.

"But," the Captain continued, "I’d advise you not to miss it."

"Is the dugong dangerous to hunt?" I asked, despite Ned’s shrug.

"Sometimes," replied the Captain. " The animal can turn on its attackers and flip their boat over. But for Master Land, that danger isn’t a big deal. His eye is quick, his arm is steady."

At that moment, seven crew members, as quiet and still as ever, climbed onto the platform. One had a harpoon and a line, just like they use for catching whales. The pinnace was lifted from the bridge, pulled out of its spot, and lowered into the sea.

Six rowers took their places, and the coxswain grabbed the rudder. Ned, Conseil, and I went to the back of the boat.

"You’re not coming, Captain?" I asked.

"Nope, sir," he replied. "But I wish you good luck."

The boat started moving, pushed by the six rowers, and zipped towards the dugong, which was floating about two miles from the Nautilus.

Once they were a few cables-lengths from the sea mammal, they slowed down, and the oars dipped silently into the calm water. Ned Land, with a harpoon in his hand, stood at the front of the boat.

The harpoon used for striking whales is usually connected to a super long cord that runs out as the wounded creature pulls it. But here, the cord was only about ten fathoms long, and the end was tied to a small barrel that would float and show the dugong’s path underwater.

I stood and carefully watched the Canadian’s opponent. This dugong, also called a halicore, looks a lot like a manatee; it has a long, oval body that ends in a stretched-out tail, and its side fins have perfect fingers.

The main difference between it and a manatee was its upper jaw, which had two long, pointy teeth that stuck out like tusks on each side.

This dugong that Ned Land was getting ready to attack was seriously huge - over seven yards long. It wasn’t moving, and seemed to be dozing on the waves, which made it easier to catch.

The boat got within about twenty yards of the animal. The oars were resting in their holders. I half stood up. Ned Land, leaning back a bit, brandished the harpoon in his experienced hand.

Suddenly, we heard a hissing sound, and the dugong vanished. The harpoon, even though it was thrown with a lot of force, seemed to have only hit the water.

"Darn it!" the Canadian yelled, totally frustrated. " I missed!"

"Nah," I said. "The creature’s hurt - look at the blood; but your weapon didn’t stick in its body."

"My harpoon! My harpoon!" cried Ned Land.

The sailors rowed on, and the coxswain steered towards the floating barrel. We got the harpoon back, and we kept chasing the animal.

It would surface now and then to breathe. The wound hadn't slowed it down - it shot off with incredible speed.

The boat, powered by strong arms, flew across the water. We got within a few yards several times, and the Canadian was ready to strike, but the dugong would suddenly dive, and it was impossible to reach it.

You could see the passion fueling impatient Ned Land! He was throwing the most intense curses in English at the poor creature. I was just annoyed to see the dugong escape all our attacks.

We chased it without stopping for an hour, and I started to think it would be tough to catch it, when the animal, driven by a weird need for revenge that it would probably regret, turned around and attacked us!

The Canadian noticed right away. "Watch out!" he shouted.

The coxswain yelled something in his own language, probably warning the men to stay alert.

The dugong got within twenty feet of the boat, stopped, and sniffed the air quickly with its big nostrils (they weren’t at the end, but higher up on its snout). Then, it jumped, and threw itself at us.

The boat couldn’t avoid the impact, and tipped over, taking on at least two tons of water that we had to bail out. But, thanks to the coxswain, we caught it sideways, not head-on, so we didn't completely capsize.

While Ned Land, holding onto the front, beat the gigantic animal with blows from his harpoon, the creature’s teeth were stuck in the side of the boat, and it lifted the whole thing out of the water like a lion lifting a deer.

We were all tangled up, and I have no idea how the whole thing would have ended, if the Canadian, still furious with the beast, hadn't finally stabbed it in the heart.

I heard its teeth grinding on the metal plate, and the dugong disappeared, taking the harpoon with it. But the barrel soon popped back up, and shortly after, the body of the animal, flipped on its back. The boat caught up with it, towed it, and headed straight for the Nautilus.

It took seriously strong ropes and pulleys to lift the dugong onto the platform. It weighed ten thousand pounds.

The next day, February eleventh, the Nautilus’s pantry got a serious upgrade with some fancy game. A bunch of sea-swallows landed on the Nautilus.

They were a special kind, Sterna nilotica, only found in Egypt - black beaks, grey, pointy heads, eyes circled with white spots, greyish backs, wings, and tails, white bellies and throats, and red claws.

We also caught about a dozen Nile ducks - wild and delicious, with white throats and black spots on their heads.

Around five o’clock that evening, we spotted Cape Ras-Mohammed to the north. This cape marks the end of Arabia Petraea, nestled between the Gulf of Suez and the Gulf of Aqaba.

The Nautilus dove into the Straits of Jubal, heading towards the Gulf of Suez. I could clearly see a huge mountain rising between the two gulfs - Mount Horeb, the Sinai where Moses supposedly saw God face to face.

By six o’clock, the Nautilus was floating and diving, passing near Tor at the end of the bay. The water looked reddish, something Captain Nemo had already noticed.

Then night fell, super quiet, except for the cries of pelicans and other night birds, the waves crashing against the rocks, and the distant rumble of a steamer churning through the Gulf.

From eight to nine o’clock, we stayed pretty deep - a few fathoms under the water. I figured we were close to Suez. Through the window in the saloon, I saw the rocks below lit up by our electric lights. It felt like we were leaving the Straits behind.

A little after nine, the Nautilus surfaced, and I headed up to the platform. Eager to check out Captain Nemo’s tunnel, I couldn’t stand still, so I stepped out to breathe in the fresh night air.

Soon, I spotted a faint light in the distance, hazy and a bit discolored from the fog - about a mile away.

"A floating lighthouse!" someone nearby said. I turned and saw the Captain.

"It’s the floating light of Suez," he continued.

"We’ll be at the tunnel entrance soon."

"Won’t it be tricky to get through?"

"Not easy, sir. That’s why I usually go down to the steersman’s cage and guide us myself. Now, if you’d like to head down, M. Aronnax, the Nautilus is going under, and we won’t surface until we’re through the Arabian Tunnel."

Captain Nemo led me toward the central staircase. Halfway down, he opened a door, crossed the upper deck, and landed in the pilot’s cage - the little room at the end of the platform that I remembered.

It was a tiny cabin, maybe six feet square, like the one a pilot uses on a steamboat on the Mississippi or Hudson. A wheel stood vertically in the middle, connected to the tiller-rope that ran to the back of the Nautilus. Four small windows with special lenses let the pilot see in every direction.

The cabin was dark, but my eyes quickly adjusted, and I saw the pilot - a strong guy with his hands resting on the wheel spokes. Outside, the sea glowed brightly, lit by a lantern that shone from the back of the cabin to the other end of the platform.

"Now," said Captain Nemo, "let’s try to get through."

Electric wires connected the pilot’s cage to the machinery room, letting the Captain communicate the direction and speed to the Nautilus at the same time. He pressed a metal knob, and the speed of the screw immediately slowed down.

I just stared at the tall, straight wall we were running alongside - a solid, immovable base of this huge sandy coastline. We stuck to it like that for about an hour, just a few yards away.

Captain Nemo didn’t take his eyes off the knob, hanging there by its two rings, in the cabin. With a quick move, the pilot changed the Nautilus’s course every second.

I went over to the port window and saw these incredible structures made of coral, weird sea creatures, seaweed, and some other kind of plant, waving their giant claws, stretching out from cracks in the rock.

A little after ten-thirty, the Captain himself took over the controls. A huge, dark tunnel opened up in front of us. The Nautilus plunged into it without hesitation. We heard this crazy roaring all around.

It was the water from the Red Sea, rushing down the tunnel and heading towards the Mediterranean. The Nautilus shot through with the current, fast as lightning, even though the engines were working overtime, trying to slow us down - the propellers were spinning in reverse, battling the waves.

On the walls of the narrow passage, all I could see were bright streaks, straight lines, and glowing furrows, all from how fast we were going, under the super-bright electric lights. My heart was pounding.

At ten-thirty-five, Captain Nemo stepped away from the controls and turned to me, saying: "The Mediterranean!"

In less than twenty minutes, carried along by the rush of water, the Nautilus blasted through the Suez Canal.