Part 1 · Chapter 5At a Venture

At a Venture. For a long time, the voyage of the Abraham Lincoln was pretty uneventful. But something happened that showed off Ned Land’s amazing skills, and proved we could really trust him.

On June thirtieth, the frigate ran into some American whaling ships. They said they hadn’t seen a narwhal.

But the captain of the Monroe, knowing Ned Land was on board the Abraham Lincoln, asked for his help chasing a whale they had spotted.

Commander Farragut, wanting to see Ned Land in action, let him go over to the Monroe.

And luck was on our Canadian’s side - instead of one whale, he harpooned two with a double blow, hitting one right in the heart, and catching the other after a short chase.

Seriously, if that monster ever had to go up against Ned Land’s harpoon, I wouldn’t bet on it.

The frigate zipped along the southeastern coast of America. On July third, we reached the entrance to the Straits of Magellan, right near Cape Vierges.

But Commander Farragut decided against taking the winding route, and instead went around Cape Horn.

The ship’s crew agreed with him. And it was possible they might run into the narwhal in that narrow passage. A lot of the sailors swore the monster couldn’t get through, "he’s too big for that!"

On July sixth, around three in the afternoon, the Abraham Lincoln, about fifteen miles south, passed a lonely island - this lost rock at the very tip of the American continent.

Some Dutch sailors had named it after their hometown, Cape Horn.

The course was set towards the northwest, and the next day, the frigate’s propeller was finally churning through the waters of the Pacific.

"Keep your eyes peeled!" yelled the sailors.

And they were wide open. Both eyes and binoculars, a little dazzled, it's true, by the thought of two thousand dollars, didn’t rest for a second.

Day and night they watched the ocean's surface, and even those who can see incredibly well in the dark would have had their work cut out for them to win the prize.

I myself, who didn’t care about money, wasn’t the least bit inattentive on board. I barely gave my meals a few minutes, and slept even less, ignoring both rain and sunshine. I didn’t leave the poop deck of the vessel.

Sometimes leaning on the netting at the bow, and sometimes on the taffrail, I devoured the soft foam that whitened the sea as far as the eye could see.

How often did I share the excitement of most of the crew, when some unpredictable whale raised its black back above the waves!

The poop deck would fill up instantly. Sailors and officers would pour out of the cabins, chests heaving, eyes strained, watching the whale’s path.

I kept looking and looking until I was nearly blind, while Conseil, always calm, kept repeating in a steady voice:

"If you didn’t squint so much, sir, you’d see better!"

But it was all for nothing! The Abraham Lincoln slowed down and headed towards the animal that had been spotted - just a regular whale, a common sperm whale, which quickly disappeared amidst a flurry of angry shouts.

But the weather was good. The voyage was going perfectly. It was the bad season in Australia, with July there matching our January in Europe, but the sea was beautiful and easy to scan over a huge area.

July twentieth, the Tropic of Capricorn hit one hundred and five° longitude, and on the twenty-seventh of the same month, we crossed the equator on the one hundred and tenth meridian.

After that, the frigate really started heading west, scouring the middle waters of the Pacific.

Commander Farragut figured - and he was right - that it was better to stay in deep water and avoid continents or islands, since the beast itself seemed to be avoiding them (maybe because there wasn’t enough water for him! most of the crew suggested).

The frigate passed a ways off the Marquesas and the Sandwich Islands, crossed the Tropic of Cancer, and headed for the China Seas. We were in the monster's old stomping grounds, and honestly, we barely lived on board anymore.

Everyone was seriously freaked out, bracing for some major health problems down the line. The whole crew was on edge - I can’t even describe it: they couldn’t eat, they couldn’t sleep.

Like, twenty times a day, some sailor spotting something on deck would freak out, and those repeated shocks kept us all in a state of intense anxiety.

And yeah, a crash came pretty quickly.

For three months, which felt like forever, the Abraham Lincoln cut through all the waters of the Northern Pacific, chasing whales, swerving all over the place, suddenly changing direction, stopping short, blasting steam, and even backing up to protect the machinery - and not a single spot along the Japanese or American coast went unexplored.

Even the biggest supporters of the mission started to turn against it. The crew’s frustration spread to Captain Farragut himself, and he would have turned the frigate south if it hadn't been for his determination.

This wild goose chase couldn't last much longer.

The Abraham Lincoln had done everything she could to succeed. No American ship’s crew had ever shown more enthusiasm or patience, so you couldn't blame them for failing - it was time to head home.

The commander was told this. The sailors couldn’t hide how they felt, and the whole operation was suffering.

I won’t say there was a mutiny, but after a period of stubbornness, Captain Farragut (just like Columbus) asked for three more days.

If the monster didn’t show up in three days, the person at the wheel would turn the wheel three times, and the Abraham Lincoln would sail for Europe.

This promise was made on November second. It actually got the crew fired up again. Everyone watched the ocean with renewed focus, hoping for one last glimpse to remember. They used binoculars like crazy.

It was a serious challenge thrown down to the giant narwhal, and he couldn’t really ignore it and "show up."

Two days passed, the steam was reduced; a bunch of ideas were tried to grab the animal’s attention and shake it out of its apathy if we happened to run into it.

Tons of bacon were trailed in the wake of the ship, which the sharks definitely appreciated.

Small boats fanned out all around the Abraham Lincoln while she was stopped, leaving no spot of the sea unexplored. But November fourth arrived without revealing this underwater mystery.

The next day, November fifth, at noon, the deadline would (basically) expire; after that, Commander Farragut, true to his word, was going to turn the ship southeast and abandon the northern Pacific forever.

The frigate was at thirty-one° fifteen' north latitude and one hundred and thirty-six° forty-two' east longitude. The coast of Japan was still less than two hundred miles away. Night was coming on.

They’d just struck eight bells; big clouds were hiding the moon, which was in its first quarter. The sea was calm under the back of the ship.

At that moment, I was leaning over the starboard netting. Conseil was standing nearby, staring straight ahead. The crew, up in the ropes, were checking the horizon, which was getting smaller and darker.

Officers with their night-vision glasses were scanning the growing darkness; sometimes the ocean would sparkle under the moonlight, which peeked through the clouds, then all the light would disappear.

Looking at Conseil, I thought he was feeling a little of the same vibe. Maybe for the first time, his nerves were buzzing with curiosity.

"Come on, Conseil," I said, "this is our last shot at those two thousand dollars."

"If I may say so, sir," Conseil replied, "I never really thought we’d win the prize; and even if the United States government had offered a hundred thousand dollars, it wouldn’t have made a difference."

"You’re right, Conseil. It’s a silly thing after all, and we jumped into it way too quickly. What a waste of time, what pointless feelings! We should have been back in France six months ago."

"In your little room, sir," Conseil replied, "and in your museum, sir, and I would have already sorted all your fossils, sir.

And the Babiroussa would have been set up in its cage at the Jardin des Plantes, and everyone in the city would have been checking it out!"

"Exactly, Conseil. I’m betting we’ll get laughed at for all this trouble."

"Pretty much guaranteed," Conseil said quietly.

"I think they’ll tease you, sir. And, should I say it?" "Go ahead, my good friend."

"Well, sir, you’ll get what you deserve." "Really!"

"When you’re a scientist like you are, sir, you shouldn’t expose yourself to - - "

Conseil didn’t get to finish his compliment. In the sudden silence, a voice cut through the air. It was Ned Land shouting -

"Look out over there! That’s exactly what we’re looking for - on our front side!"