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Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea
Chapter 37. THE SOUTH POLE
I rushed onto the platform, Yes! Cold wind slapped my face and sea spray stung.
The open sea, with only a few scattered pieces of ice and moving icebergs, a long stretch of sea.
A world of birds in the air, and millions of fish under those waters, which changed from deep blue to olive green, depending on the bottom.
The thermometer showed 3 C. above zero.
It was like spring, shut in as we were behind this iceberg, whose long shape was dimly seen on our northern horizon.
"Are we at the pole?" I asked the Captain, with a beating heart.
"I don't know," he replied.
"At noon I'll take our position."
"But will the sun show itself through this fog?" I said, looking at the gray sky.
"However little it shows, it'll be enough," replied the Captain.
About ten miles south, a lonely island rose to a height of one hundred and four yards.
We headed for it, but carefully, because the sea might be full of sandbanks.
One hour later we reached it, Two hours later we had gone all around it.
It measured four or five miles around.
A narrow channel separated it from a large stretch of land, maybe a continent, because we couldn't see its limits.
The existence of this land seemed to support Maury's theory.
The clever American had noted that between the South Pole and the sixtieth parallel the sea is covered with floating ice.
He added that this ice, of enormous size, is never found in the North Atlantic.
From this fact he concluded that the Antarctic Circle contains large continents, since icebergs can't form in open sea, only on coasts.
According to these calculations, the mass of ice around the southern pole forms a huge cap, whose circumference must be at least 2,500 miles.
But the Nautilus, for fear of running aground, had stopped about three cable-lengths from a shore where a wonderful heap of rocks rose up.
The boat was launched, the Captain, two of his men carrying instruments, Conseil, and I were in it.
It was ten in the morning, I hadn't seen Ned Land.
No doubt the Canadian didn't want to admit the presence of the South Pole.
A few strokes of the oar brought us to the sand, where we landed.
Conseil was about to jump onto the land, when I held him back.
"Sir," I said to Captain Nemo, "the honor of first setting foot on this land belongs to you."
"Yes, sir," said the Captain.
"And if I don't hesitate to step on this South Pole, it's because, up to now, no human being has left a trace there."
Saying this, he jumped lightly onto the sand, his heart beat with emotion.
He climbed a rock that sloped to a small point.
And there, with his arms crossed, silent and still, with an eager look, he seemed to take possession of these southern regions.
After five minutes spent in this ecstasy, he turned to us.
"When you're ready, sir."
I landed, followed by Conseil, leaving the two men in the boat.
For a long way, the soil was made of a reddish sandy stone, something like crushed brick, volcanic rock, streams of lava, and pumice stones.
You couldn't mistake its volcanic origin, Small curls of smoke gave off a smell of sulfur.
This proved that the fires inside had lost none of their power.
After climbing a high slope, I could see no volcano for several miles around.
We know that in those Antarctic countries, James Ross found two craters, the Erebus and Terror, fully active, on the 167th meridian, latitude 77 32'.
The plant life of this empty continent seemed very limited to me.
Some lichens lay on the black rocks.
Some tiny plants, simple diatoms, a kind of cell placed between two quartz shells.
Long purple and red seaweed, supported on little floating bladders, which the breaking waves brought to the shore.
These made up the poor plant life of this region.
The shore was covered with mollusks, small mussels, and limpets.
I also saw millions of northern clios, one and a quarter inches long, of which a whale would swallow a whole world in one mouthful.
And some perfect sea butterflies, moving in the waters near the shore.
On the higher bottoms appeared coral bushes that, according to James Ross, live in the Antarctic seas at depths over 1,000 yards.
Then there were small kingfishers and starfish covering the soil.
But where life was most plentiful was in the air.
There, thousands of birds fluttered and flew of all kinds, deafening us with their cries.
Others crowded the rocks, looking at us as we passed by without fear, and pressing close to our feet.
There were penguins, so quick in the water, heavy and awkward on the ground.
They were making harsh cries, a large group, calm in their movements but loud in their noise.
Albatrosses passed in the air, the spread of their wings being at least four and a half yards, rightly called the vultures of the ocean.
Some giant petrels, and some damiers, a kind of small duck, whose lower body is black and white.
There were a whole series of petrels.
Some were whitish with brown-edged wings, Others were blue, special to the Antarctic seas.
They were so oily, as I told Conseil, that the people of the Ferroe Islands put a wick in them to light them.
"A little more," said Conseil, "and they'd be perfect lamps! After that, we can't expect Nature to have already given them wicks!"
About half a mile further on, the soil was full of ruffs' nests, a kind of laying ground, from which many birds were coming out.
Captain Nemo had some hundreds hunted, they made a cry like the braying of a donkey.
They were about the size of a goose, slate-colored on the body, white underneath, with a yellow line around their throats.
They let themselves be killed with a stone, never trying to escape.
But the fog didn't lift, and at eleven the sun still hadn't shown itself.
Its absence made me uneasy, Without it, no observations were possible.
How could we decide whether we had reached the pole?
When I joined Captain Nemo, I found him leaning on a piece of rock, silently watching the sky.
He seemed impatient and annoyed, but what could be done?
This bold and powerful man couldn't command the sun like he commanded the sea.
Noon arrived without the sun showing itself for a moment.
We couldn't even tell its position behind the curtain of fog.
And soon the fog turned to snow.
"Until tomorrow," said the Captain, quietly, and we returned to the Nautilus in the middle of these atmospheric disturbances.
The snowstorm continued until the next day.
It was impossible to stay on the platform.
From the saloon I was taking notes of events during this trip to the polar continent.
I could hear cries of petrels and albatrosses playing in the middle of the violent storm.
The Nautilus did not stay still but moved along the coast.
It advanced ten more miles to the south in the half-light left by the sun as it touched the horizon.
The next day, the 20th of March, the snow had stopped.
The cold was a little greater, the thermometer showing 2 below zero.
The fog was rising, and I hoped that day we could take our observations.
Captain Nemo hadn't appeared yet, so the boat took Conseil and me to land.
The soil was still of the same volcanic nature.
Everywhere were traces of lava, volcanic rock, and basalt.
But I couldn't see the crater that had thrown them out.
Here, as further down, this continent was alive with millions of birds.
But their rule was now shared with large groups of sea mammals, looking at us with their soft eyes.
There were several kinds of seals, some lying on the earth, some on pieces of ice, many going in and out of the sea.
They didn't run away as we approached, never having had anything to do with humans.
And I calculated that there was enough food there for hundreds of ships.
"Sir," said Conseil, "will you tell me the names of these creatures?"
"They're seals and walruses."
It was now eight in the morning.
Four hours remained before we could observe the sun well.
I directed our steps toward a large bay cut into the steep granite shore.
There, I can say that earth and ice were lost from sight because of the number of sea mammals covering them.
And I couldn't help looking for old Proteus, the mythological shepherd who watched these huge flocks of Neptune.
There were more seals than anything else, forming separate groups, male and female.
The father watched over his family, the mother nursed her young, some already strong enough to take a few steps.
When they wanted to move, they took small jumps by contracting their bodies.
They were helped awkwardly by imperfect fins which, like those of the manatee, their cousins, form a perfect forearm.
I should say that in the water, which is their element, the spine of these creatures is flexible.
With smooth, tight skin and webbed feet, they swim wonderfully.
When resting on the earth, they take the most graceful positions.
The ancients saw their soft and expressive looks.
No woman's most beautiful look could beat them.
They also saw their clear, loving eyes and charming poses.
So the ancients changed the male into a triton and the female into a mermaid.
I pointed out to Conseil the large development of the brain lobes in these interesting sea mammals.
No mammal, except humans, has so much brain matter.
They're also able to receive a certain amount of education.
They're easily tamed, and I think, with other naturalists, that if properly trained, they'd be very useful as fishing dogs.
Most of them slept on the rocks or on the sand.
Among these seals, properly called, which have no outer ears, they differ from the otter.
The otter's ears stick out, I noticed several kinds of seals about three yards long.
They have white coats and bulldog heads.
They're armed with teeth in both jaws.
They have four incisors at the top and four at the bottom.
They also have two large canine teeth in the shape of a fleur-de-lis.
Among them moved sea elephants, a kind of seal, with short, flexible trunks.
The giants of this species measured twenty feet around and ten and a half yards in length.
But they didn't move as we approached.
"These creatures aren't dangerous?" asked Conseil.
"No, not unless you attack them."
"When they have to defend their young, their anger is terrible, and it's not unusual for them to break fishing boats to pieces."
"They're quite right," said Conseil.
"I'm not saying they aren't."
Two miles further on, we were stopped by the point that shelters the bay from the southern winds.
Beyond it, we heard loud bellows, like those a group of grazing animals would make.
"Good!" said Conseil.
"A concert of bulls!"
"No. A concert of walruses."
"They're fighting!"
"They're either fighting or playing."
We now began to climb the blackish rocks, with unexpected slips, and over stones that the ice made slippery.
More than once I fell over, hurting my back.
Conseil, more careful or more steady, didn't slip, and helped me up, saying,
"Sir, if you'd be kind enough to take wider steps, you'd keep your balance better."
When we reached the top ridge of the point, I saw a wide white plain covered with walruses.
They were playing among themselves, and what we heard were bellows of pleasure, not anger.
As I passed these curious animals, I could examine them calmly, because they didn't move.
Their skins were thick and rough, of a yellowish color, close to red.
Their hair was short and thin, Some of them were four and a quarter yards long.
Quieter and less shy than their cousins of the north, they didn't, like them, place guards around the edges of their camp.
After examining this city of walruses, I began to think of returning.
It was eleven o'clock, and if Captain Nemo found the conditions good for observations, I wanted to be present at the operation.
We followed a narrow path that ran along the top of the steep shore.
At half past eleven, we reached the place where we had landed.
The boat had run ashore, bringing the Captain.
I saw him standing on basalt block, with instruments, eyes fixed on northern horizon where the sun made a long curve.
I took my place beside him and waited without speaking.
Noon arrived, and as before, the sun didn't appear.
It was a bad luck, Observations were still missing.
If not done tomorrow, we'd have to give up all idea of taking any.
We were indeed exactly at the 20th of March.
Tomorrow, the 21st, would be the equinox.
The sun would disappear behind the horizon for six months, and with its disappearance, the long polar night would begin.
Since the September equinox, it had come up from the northern horizon, rising in long spirals up to the 21st of December.
At that time, the summer solstice of the northern regions, it had begun to go down.
And tomorrow it would send its last rays upon them.
I told Captain Nemo my fears and observations.
"You're right, M. Aronnax," he said.
"If I can't take the sun's height tomorrow, I won't be able to do it for six months."
"But exactly because chance has brought me into these seas on the 21st of March, my position will be easy to find, if at twelve we can see the sun."
"Why, Captain?"
"Because then the sun makes such long curves that it's hard to measure its height above the horizon exactly, and serious errors can be made with instruments."
"What will you do then?"
"I'll only use my chronometer," replied Captain Nemo.
"If tomorrow, the 21st of March, the disc of the sun, allowing for refraction, is exactly cut by the northern horizon, it'll show that I'm at the South Pole."
"That's right," I said.
"But this statement isn't mathematically exact, because the equinox doesn't necessarily begin at noon."
"Very likely, sir. But the error won't be a hundred yards, and we don't need more. Until tomorrow, then!"
Captain Nemo returned on board, Conseil and I stayed to look at the shore, observing and studying until five o'clock.
Then I went to bed, but not without asking, like the Indian, for the favor of the bright sun.
The next day, the 21st of March, at five in the morning, I went up to the platform, I found Captain Nemo there.
"The weather is clearing a little," he said.
"I have some hope. After breakfast, we'll go on shore and choose a place for observation."
That decided, I looked for Ned Land.
I wanted to take him with me.
But the stubborn Canadian refused, and I saw that his silence and his bad mood grew day by day.
After all, I wasn't sorry for his stubbornness under the circumstances.
Indeed, there were too many seals on shore, and we shouldn't put such temptation in this thoughtless fisherman's way.
After breakfast, we went on shore, the Nautilus had moved some miles further up during the night.
It was a whole league from the coast, above which rose a sharp peak about five hundred yards high.
The boat took Captain Nemo, two men of the crew, and the instruments, which included a chronometer, a telescope, and a barometer.
While crossing, I saw many whales belonging to the three kinds special to the southern seas.
The whale, or the English "right whale," which has no back fin.
The "humpback," with a folded chest and large, whitish fins, which, despite its name, don't form wings.
And the fin-back, of a yellowish brown, the liveliest of all the sea mammals.
This powerful creature is heard from far away when it throws high columns of air and steam, which look like whirlwinds of smoke.
These different mammals were playing in groups in the quiet waters.
I could see that the basin of the Antarctic Pole was a refuge for sea mammals hunted too closely by hunters.
I also noticed large jellyfish floating between the reeds.
At nine we landed, the sky was brightening.
The clouds were flying to the south, and the fog seemed to be leaving the cold surface of the waters.
Captain Nemo went toward the peak, which he no doubt meant to be his observatory.
It was a hard climb over the sharp lava and the pumice stones, in an air often filled with a sulfur smell from the smoking cracks.
Though unaccustomed to land, the Captain climbed the steep slopes with a speed I had never seen and a hunter would have envied.
We took two hours to reach the top of this peak, which was half porphyry and half basalt.
From there, we looked upon a wide sea which, toward the north, clearly drew its boundary line on the sky.
At our feet lay fields of dazzling whiteness.
Over our heads, a pale blue sky, free from fog.
To the north, the disc of the sun looked like a ball of fire, already cut by the horizon.
From the heart of the water rose hundreds of liquid jets.
In the distance lay the Nautilus, like a sea mammal asleep on the water.
Behind us, to the south and east, an immense country and a confused heap of rocks and ice, whose limits weren't visible.
When we reached the top, Captain Nemo carefully took the average height of the barometer, because he'd have to consider that in taking his observations.
At a quarter to twelve, the sun.
Then seen only by refraction, looked like a golden disc sending its last rays upon this empty continent and seas that no man had ever sailed.
Captain Nemo, using a lens and mirror to correct refraction, watched the sun sink below the horizon along a long diagonal.
I held the chronometer, My heart beat fast.
If the disappearance of the half-disc of the sun matched twelve o'clock on the chronometer, we were at the pole itself.
"Twelve!" I exclaimed.
"The South Pole!" replied Captain Nemo, in a serious voice, handing me the glass, which showed the sun cut in exactly equal parts by the horizon.
I looked at the last rays crowning the peak, and the shadows rising little by little up its slopes.
At that moment, Captain Nemo, resting his hand on my shoulder, said,
"I, Captain Nemo, on this 21st day of March, 1868, have reached the South Pole on the ninetieth degree."
"And I take possession of this part of the globe, equal to one-sixth of the known continents."
"In whose name, Captain?"
"In my own, sir!"
Saying this, Captain Nemo unfurled a black flag, bearing an "N" in gold on its cloth.
Then, turning toward the sun, whose last rays touched the horizon of the sea, he exclaimed,
"Goodbye, sun! Disappear, you bright orb! Rest beneath this open sea, and let a night of six months spread its shadows over my new domains!"