Part 2 · Chapter 8Vigo Bay

Vigo Bay. The Atlantic! Seriously, it’s this massive sheet of water - like, covers twenty-five million square miles. It’s nine thousand miles long and, on average, two thousand seven hundred miles wide.

Imagine the coastline - it wraps around the whole world, fed by huge rivers like the St. Lawrence, the Mississippi, the Amazon, the Plata, the Orinoco, the Niger, the Senegal, the Elbe, the Loire, and the Rhine. These rivers bring water from both super-civilized and totally wild countries!

It’s a crazy busy ocean, with ships from every nation crisscrossing it, flying every flag you can think of. And it ends in these two seriously scary spots for sailors: Cape Horn and the Cape of Tempests.

The Nautilus was slicing through the water with its sharp bow, having already covered nearly ten thousand leagues - that’s over three months - a distance even longer than going around the Earth! Where were we headed now, and what was next?

After leaving the Straits of Gibraltar, the Nautilus had gone way out. It surfaced, and we could do our daily walks on the platform again.

I headed up immediately, with Ned Land and Conseil. About twelve miles away, Cape St. Vincent was barely visible, marking the southwestern tip of Spain. There was a strong southerly wind blowing, and the sea was rough and choppy.

The Nautilus was rocking violently - it was almost impossible to keep your footing on the platform, which the waves kept crashing over. So we went back inside to catch our breath.

I went back to my room, and Conseil to his cabin, but the Canadian followed me, looking really preoccupied. Our quick trip across the Mediterranean hadn't let him get his plan going, and he was clearly bummed. When the door closed, he just sat down and stared at me.

"Friend Ned," I said, "I get you, but you can’t blame yourself. Trying to leave the Nautilus under these conditions would’ve been totally reckless."

Ned Land didn't respond; his pressed lips and furrowed brow showed how strongly this idea had taken hold of his mind.

"Let’s see," I continued. "We don’t have to lose hope yet."

We’re heading up the coast of Portugal again, and France and England aren’t far off - places where we can easily find help. If the Nautilus, leaving the Straits of Gibraltar, had gone south, if it had taken us toward areas without continents, I’d be worried too.

"But we know now that Captain Nemo isn’t running from civilized waters, and in a few days, I think you can act safely."

Ned Land still looked at me intently; finally, his pressed lips parted, and he said, "It’s tonight."

I sat up straight. I have to admit, I wasn’t really expecting that. I wanted to reply to the Canadian, but the words wouldn’t come.

"We agreed to wait for a chance," continued Ned Land, "and the opportunity’s here. Tonight, we’ll be just a few miles from the Spanish coast. It’s cloudy, and the wind is strong. I have your word, M. Aronnax, and I’m counting on you."

Since I was quiet, the Canadian came closer.

"Tonight, at nine o’clock," he said.

"I’ve told Conseil. At that time, Captain Nemo will be locked in his room, probably in bed. Neither the engineers nor the crew can see us. Conseil and I will head to the central staircase, and you, M. Aronnax, will wait in the library, just two steps from us, waiting for my signal."

"The oars, the mast, and the sail are in the canoe. I even managed to get some food. I got an English wrench to loosen the bolts that hold it to the shell of the Nautilus. So everything’s ready, until tonight." "The sea is rough."

"That’s fine," the Canadian replied.

"But we’ll have to risk it. Freedom is worth paying for, anyway. Plus, the boat’s solid, and a few miles with a good wind isn’t a big deal. Who knows? By tomorrow, we could be a hundred leagues away! If things go our way, we’ll be on land, alive or not, by ten or eleven."

"But that’s it for now, see you tonight."

With those words, the Canadian left, and I was totally stunned. I thought I’d have time to think things over and talk about it after the chance was gone. My stubborn friend didn’t give me a second. And honestly, what could I have said to him? Ned Land was totally right.

There was almost a way to cash in on this. Could I go back on my word and take responsibility for messing up my friends' futures? Captain Nemo could take us far from land tomorrow.

Just then, a loud hissing sound told me the ballast tanks were filling, and the Nautilus was sinking beneath the Atlantic waves.

It was a rough day, stuck between wanting my freedom back and wanting to leave the incredible Nautilus and finish my underwater studies.

What a crazy few hours I had! Sometimes I pictured myself and my friends safely on land, other times I secretly hoped some unexpected thing would stop Ned Land’s plan, even though I knew I shouldn't.

I went to the saloon twice. I wanted to check the compass and see if the Nautilus was heading closer or farther from the coast. But no luck. The Nautilus stayed in Portuguese waters.

So, I had to do my part and get ready to bolt. My stuff wasn’t heavy - just my notes.

As for Captain Nemo, I wondered what he’d think of our escape, what trouble or hurt it might cause him, and what he’d do if he found out or if we failed. I definitely couldn’t complain about him; he was incredibly generous, actually. I couldn't be ungrateful leaving him.

We weren't bound to him by any oath. He was relying on the situation, not our word, to keep us around forever.

I hadn't seen the Captain since we visited Santorin. Would I get a chance to see him before we left? I hoped so, but I also felt nervous about it. I listened for him walking around near my room. Nothing. I felt totally uneasy. This waiting day felt endless. Time was crawling.

My dinner was brought to my room like always. I barely ate; I was too distracted. I left the table around seven o'clock. Another hour and a half until I was supposed to meet Ned Land. My nerves were shot. My heart was pounding. I couldn’t sit still.

I paced back and forth, hoping to calm down by moving around. The idea of failing at our daring plan was the least of my worries; but the thought of Captain Nemo finding out, getting angry, or (even worse) sad, about me leaving, made my heart race.

I wanted to see the saloon one last time. I took the stairs and ended up in the museum, where I'd spent so many useful and fun hours. I looked at all its amazing things, all its treasures, like someone about to be exiled forever, leaving and never returning.

I was going to abandon all these wonders of nature, these masterpieces of art! I wanted to take one last look out the saloon windows into the Atlantic waters, but the panels were sealed shut, and a wall of steel separated me from the ocean I hadn’t explored yet.

Walking through the main room, I almost bumped into the door tucked into the corner that led to the Captain’s room. To my total surprise, the door was slightly open. I instinctively stepped back. If Captain Nemo was in his room, he could see me! But, hearing nothing, I crept closer.

The room was empty. I pushed the door open and took a few steps inside. Still the same serious, monk-like vibe.

Suddenly, the clock struck eight. The first clang of the hammer on the bell jolted me awake from my thoughts. I trembled, like an invisible eye had peered into my deepest secrets, and hurried out of the room.

My eyes landed on the compass. We were still heading north. The log showed a steady speed, and the pressure gauge indicated we were about sixty feet down.

I went back to my room, bundled up warm - sea boots, an otter-skin cap, a thick byssus coat lined with sealskin. I was ready, waiting. The hum of the propeller was the only thing breaking the deep silence on board. I listened closely.

Would a loud voice suddenly tell me that Ned Land had been caught trying to escape? A wave of fear washed over me, and I struggled to calm down.

Just before nine, I pressed my ear to the Captain’s door. Nothing. I left my room and went back to the main room, which was dim and deserted.

I opened the door to the library. The same weak light, the same solitude. I positioned myself near the door to the main staircase, waiting for Ned Land’s signal.

Then, the hum of the propeller noticeably faded, then stopped completely. The only sound was the pounding of my own heart. Suddenly, we felt a slight jolt; I knew the Nautilus had stopped at the bottom of the ocean. My anxiety spiked. Ned Land’s signal didn’t come.

I felt like I should find him and beg him to call off his plan. I knew something was off.

At that moment, the door to the large room opened, and Captain Nemo appeared. He saw me, and without hesitation, started speaking in a friendly tone:

"Ah, sir! I’d been looking for you. Do you know the history of Spain?"

I probably could have recited the history of my own country, but in the state I was in - mind racing and totally frazzled - I couldn't have said a word about it.

"Well," continued Captain Nemo, "you heard my question! Do you know the history of Spain?" "Not really," I replied.

"Well, here are educated people who need to learn," the Captain said.

"Come, sit down, and I’ll tell you a fascinating story from this history. Sir, listen closely; this history will answer a question that you’ve likely been wondering about."

"I’m listening, Captain," I said, clueless about what he was getting at, wondering if this had something to do with our planned escape.

"Sir, if you don't mind, let's go back to seventeen oh two. You know that your king, Louis XIV, thinking a royal gesture was enough to control the Pyrenees, had forced his grandson, the Duke of Anjou, on the Spaniards."

This prince, who reigned more or less well under the name of Philip V, had a strong opposition abroad.

In fact, the royal houses of Holland, Austria, and England had signed a treaty of alliance in The Hague, intending to snatch the Spanish crown from Philip V and place it on the head of an archduke they prematurely named Charles III.

"Spain had to fight this alliance, but they were seriously lacking soldiers and sailors. Luckily, they had money - as long as their ships, loaded with gold and silver from the Americas, could reach their ports."

By the end of seventeen oh two, they were expecting a valuable shipment that France was escorting with a fleet of twenty-three ships, led by Admiral Chateau-Renaud. But the ships of the alliance were already patrolling the Atlantic.

The shipment was supposed to go to Cadiz, but the Admiral heard that an English fleet was nearby, so he decided to head for a French port instead.

The Spanish commanders in charge of the shipment didn’t like that. They wanted to go to a Spanish port, and if not Cadiz, then Vigo Bay, located on the northwest coast of Spain, which wasn’t blockaded.

Admiral Chateau-Renaud went ahead and followed their orders, and the ships sailed into Vigo Bay.

Unfortunately, it was completely open and couldn’t be defended at all. They needed to quickly unload the ships before the combined fleet arrived, and they would have had time if a silly dispute hadn’t suddenly popped up.

"Following the story?" asked Captain Nemo.

"Totally," I said, not knowing what point he was trying to make with this history lesson.

"I’ll continue. Here’s what happened. The merchants of Cadiz had a special right to receive all goods coming from the West Indies. Now, unloading these gold bars at the port of Vigo was taking that right away from them."

They complained in Madrid, and convinced the easily-influenced Philip to keep the shipment locked up in Vigo Bay until the enemy disappeared.

"But while they were making that decision, on October twenty-second, seventeen oh two, the English ships arrived in Vigo Bay, and Admiral Chateau-Renaud, despite being outnumbered, fought bravely."

"But seeing that the treasure would fall into enemy hands, he burned and sank every ship, along with their incredible riches."

Captain Nemo paused. I honestly couldn't see why this history should interest me. "So?" I asked.

"So, M. Aronnax," replied Captain Nemo, "we’re in Vigo Bay; and it’s up to you whether you want to explore its secrets."

The Captain stood up, telling me to follow him. I’d had a chance to recover. I obeyed. The saloon was dim, but through the clear glass, the waves were sparkling. I looked.

For about a mile around the Nautilus, the water seemed lit up with electric light. The sandy bottom was clear and bright. Some of the crew, in their diving gear, were clearing away half-rotted barrels and empty crates from the middle of the blackened wrecks.

Gold and silver bars, piles of coins, and jewels were escaping from these crates and barrels. The sand was piled high with them. Loaded with their precious loot, the men returned to the Nautilus, unloaded their cargo, and went back to this endless hunt for gold and silver.

I understood now. This was the scene of the battle of October twenty-second, seventeen oh two. Here, on this very spot, the ships loaded for the Spanish Government had sunk. Here Captain Nemo came, whenever he needed it, to collect those millions with which he loaded the Nautilus.

He was the direct heir, without anyone to share with, in those treasures ripped from the Incas and from the conquered people of Ferdinand Cortez.

"Did you know, sir," he asked, smiling, "that the sea held such riches?"

"I knew," I answered, "that they estimated the value of money suspended in these waters at two million."

"Seriously? But getting that money would cost way more than it’s worth. Here, though, I just scoop up what people have lost - not just in Vigo Bay, but in a ton of other ports where ships have wrecked, all marked on my underwater map. Get it now, how I made so much money?"

"I get it, Captain. But let me tell you, exploring Vigo Bay, you just beat a rival group to it." "And who’s that?"

"A group that got permission from the Spanish Government to hunt for those sunken galleons. The investors are super hyped about a huge payday, because they think those shipwrecks are worth five hundred million."

"Five hundred million they thought," Captain Nemo replied, "but not anymore."

"Exactly," I said. "A heads-up to those investors would be a nice thing to do. But would they even appreciate it? Gamblers usually hate losing money even more than losing hope."

"Honestly, I feel more for the thousands of people who could really use that wealth - it could have helped them, but now it's just gone forever."

I barely finished saying that when I realized I’d probably hurt Captain Nemo’s feelings.

"Gone?" he burst out, sounding really fired up.

"You think I’m just stealing these riches? You think I’m doing this just for myself? Who told you that I wasn’t using it for good? Do you think I’m blind to the suffering and the oppressed people on this earth?"

"To the miserable people who need comfort, the victims who need justice? Don’t you get it?"

Captain Nemo paused at those last words, maybe regretting talking so much. But I figured out that whatever drove him to escape to the sea, it hadn’t erased his humanity.

His heart still ached for the suffering of others, and his incredible generosity was for entire groups of people, not just individuals. And then it clicked - I knew exactly who Captain Nemo was sending that money to when the Nautilus was near the waters of Crete.