Year Published: 1870 Language: English Country of Origin: France Source: Verne, J. (1870). Twenty Thousand also Leagues Under the Sea. (F. P. Wchange, Trans.). Paris, France: Hetzel.

Verne, J. (1870). Part 2, Chapter 8: The Bay of Vigo. Twenty Thousand also Leagues Under the Sea (Lit2Go Edition). Retrieved September 05, 2021, from

Verne, Jules. "Part 2, Chapter 8: The Bay of Vigo." Twenty Thousand also Leagues Under the Sea. Lit2Go Edition. 1870. Web.>. September 05, 2021.

Jules Verne, "Part 2, Chapter 8: The Bay of Vigo," Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, Lit2Go Edition, (1870), accessed September 05, 2021, https://and so

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The Atlantic! A large expanse of water whose surface location is 25,000,000 square miles, via a size of 9,000 miles and an average width of 2,700. A major sea almost unrecognized to the ancients, except maybe the Carthaginians, those Dutchmales of antiquity who went along the west coasts of Europe and Africa on their commercial junkets! An ocean whose parallel winding shores form an enormous perimeter fed by the world's best rivers: the St. Lawrence, Mississippi, Amazon, Plata, Orinoco, Niger, Senegal, Elbe, Loire, and Rhine, which carry it waters from the the majority of civilized countries and also the a lot of unarisen areas! A magnificent simple of waves plowed consistently by ships of eincredibly country, shaded by every flag in the people, and also ending in those 2 tragic headlands so feared by navigators, Cape Horn and the Cape of Tempests!

The Nautilus broke these waters through the edge of its spur after doing virtually 10,000 leagues in 3 and also a fifty percent months, a track longer than a good circle of the earth. Where were we heading now, and also what did the future have actually in store for us?

Emerging from the Strait of Gibraltar, the Nautilus took to the high seas. It went back to the surchallenge of the waves, so our daily strolls on the platdevelop were restored to us.

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I climbed onto it instantly, Ned Land also and also Conseil together with me. Twelve miles amethod, Cape St. Vincent was hazily visible, the southwestern pointer of the Hispanic peninsula. The wind was blowing a pretty strong gust from the south. The sea was swelling and also surging. Its waves made the Nautilus roll and jerk violently. It was virtually impossible to stand up on the platcreate, which was continuously buffeted by this enormously hefty sea. After inhaling a couple of breaths of air, we went below as soon as more.

I repaired to my stateroom. Conseil went back to his cabin; however the Canadian, looking quite worried, followed me. Our quick pilgrimage via the Mediterranean hadn't permitted him to put his plans into execution, and he might badepend conceal his disappointment.

After the door to my stateroom was closed, he sat and also stared at me silently.

"Ned my friend," I told him, "I know exactly how you feel, yet you mustn't blame yourself. Given the means the Nautilus was navigating, it would have been sheer insanity to think of escaping!"

Ned Land didn't reply. His pursed lips and frowning brow shown that he was in the grip of his monomania.

"Look right here," I went on, "as yet there's no cause for despair. We're going up the coast of Portugal. France and England aren't much off, and there we'll easily uncover refuge. Oh, I give you, if the Nautilus had arised from the Strait of Gibraltar and made for that cape in the southern, if it were taking us towards those regions that have no continents, then I'd share your alarm. But we currently recognize that Captain Nemo doesn't stop the seas of people, and also in a couple of days I think we deserve to safely take action."

Ned Land stared at me still more intently and also finally unpursed his lips:

"We'll execute it this evening," he said.

I straightened unexpectedly. I admit that I was less than ready for this announcement. I wanted to reply to the Canadian, however words failed me.

"We agreed to wait for the ideal scenarios," Ned Land also went on. "Now we've got those situations. This evening we'll be simply a few miles off the coast of Spain. It'll be cloudy tonight. The wind's blowing toward shore. You provided me your promise, Professor Aronnax, and also I'm counting on you."

Because I didn't say anypoint, the Canadian stood up and also approached me:

"We'll carry out it this evening at nine o'clock," he sassist. "I've alerted Conseil. By that time Captain Nemo will certainly be locked in his room and probably in bed. Neither the mechanics or the crewmales will certainly be able to check out us. Conseil and I will certainly go to the main companionmeans. As for you, Professor Aronnax, you'll stay in the library 2 steps ameans and wait for my signal. The oars, mast, and sail are in the skiff. I've even regulated to stow some provisions inside. I've acquired organize of a moncrucial wrench to unscrew the nuts bolting the skiff to the Nautilus's hull. So everything's prepared. I'll view you this evening."

"The sea is turbulent," I said.

"Admitted," the Canadian responded, "yet we've got to risk it. Freedom is worth paying for. Besides, the longboat's solidly constructed, and also a couple of miles via the wind behind us is no huge deal. By tomorrow, that knows if this ship won't be 100 leagues out to sea? If scenarios are in our favor, in between ten and also eleven this evening we'll be landing on some piece of solid ground, or we'll be dead. So we're in God's hands, and also I'll watch you this evening!"

This said, the Canadian withdrew, leaving me close to dumbestablished. I had actually imagined that if it involved this, I would have actually time to think about it, to talk it over. My stubborn companion hadn't granted me this courtesy. But after all, what would certainly I have shelp to him? Ned Land was appropriate a hundred times over. These were near–ideal situations, and he was taking full benefit of them. In my selfish personal interests, might I go earlier on my word and be responsible for damaging the future stays of my companions? Tomorrow, could not Captain Nemo take us far ameans from any type of shore?

Just then a fairly loud hissing told me that the ballast tanks were filling, and the Nautilus sank beneath the waves of the Atlantic.

I continued to be in my stateroom. I wanted to prevent the captain, to hide from his eyes the agitation overwhelming me. What an agonizing day I invested, torn between my desire to reacquire my totally free will certainly and also my regret at abandoning this marvelous Nautilus, leaving my underwater research incomplete! How can I relinquish this ocean—"my own Atlantic," as I chosen to speak to it—without observing its reduced strata, without wresting from it the kinds of tricks that had actually been reveabrought about me by the seas of the East Indies and also the Pacific! I was putting down my novel fifty percent read, I was waking up as my dream neared its climax! How paintotally the hours passed, as I sometimes envisioned myself safe on shore via my companions, or, despite my much better judgment, as I sometimes wimelted that some unforeseen circumstances would prevent Ned Land from transporting out his plans.

Twice I checked out the lounge. I wanted to consult the compass. I wanted to check out if the Nautilus's heading was actually taking us closer to the coast or spiriting us farther ameans. But no. The Nautilus was still in Portuguese waters. Heading north, it was cruising along the ocean's beaches.

So I had to resign myself to my fate and get ready to escape. My baggage wasn't hefty. My notes, nopoint even more.

As for Captain Nemo, I wondered what he would make of our escaping, what concern or probably what distress it might cause him, and also what he would certainly perform in the twofold event of our attempt either failing or being uncovered out! Indeed I had actually no complaints to register via him, on the contrary. Never before was hospitality more wholehearted than his. Yet in leaving him I couldn't be accused of ingratitude. No solemn assures bound us to him. In order to store us captive, he had counted just on the pressure of situations and also not on our word of honor. But his avowed intention to imprison us forever on his ship justified our eextremely initiative.

I hadn't checked out the captain given that our visit to the island also of Santorini. Would fate carry me into his visibility before our departure? I both wanted and also dreaded it. I listened for footprocedures in the stateroom adjoining mine. Not a sound reached my ear. His stateroom had to be deserted.

Then I began to wonder if this eccentric individual was also on board. Since that night once the skiff had left the Nautilus on some mysterious mission, my ideas around him had subtly changed. Despite everything, I believed that Captain Nemo should have kept up some kind of partnership via the shore. Did he himself never leave the Nautilus? Whole weeks had regularly gone by without my encountering him. What was he doing all the while? During all those times I'd assumed he was convalescing in the grip of some misanthropic fit, was he instead far amethod from the ship, associated in some trick activity whose nature still eluded me?

All these concepts and also a thousand also others attacked me at the exact same time. In these stvariety situations the scope for conjecture was unlimited. I felt an unbearable queasiness. This day of waiting seemed endmuch less. The hrs struck too gradually to store up via my impatience.

As usual, dinner was offered me in my stateroom. Full of stress, I ate bit. I left the table at seven o'clock. 120 minutes—I was keeping track of them—still separated me from the minute I was to resign up with Ned Land. My agitation raised. My pulse was throbbing violently. I couldn't stand still. I walked up and dvery own, hoping to calm my troubled mind through movement. The opportunity of perishing in our reckmuch less undertaking was the least of my worries; my heart was pounding at the thought that our plans might be uncovered before we had left the Nautilus, at the thought of being hauled in front of Captain Nemo and finding him angered, or worse, saddened by my deserting him.

I wanted to view the lounge one last time. I went dvery own the gangmethods and came down on the museum where I had invested so many kind of pleasant and abundant hours. I stared at all its wide range, all its treasures, prefer a male on the eve of his eternal exile, a male departing to rerevolve no more. For so many days now, these natural wonders and artistic masterfunctions had actually been central to my life, and I was about to leave them behind forever before. I wanted to plunge my eyes via the lounge window and also right into these Atlantic waters; however the panels were hermetically sealed, and a mantle of sheet iron separated me from this ocean through which I was still unacquainted.

Crossing through the lounge, I arrived at the door, contrived in one of the canted corners, that opened up right into the captain's stateroom. Much to my astonishment, this door was ajar. I instinctively recoiled. If Captain Nemo was in his stateroom, he might see me. But, not hearing any kind of sounds, I approached. The stateroom was deserted. I pumelted the door open up. I took a couple of measures inside. Still the same austere, monastic appearance.

Just then my eye was caught by some lutz-heilmann.infohings hanging on the wall, which I hadn't noticed in the time of my first visit. They were portraits of good males of background that had invested their lives in perpetual devotion to a great human ideal: Thaddeus Kosciusko, the hero whose dying words had been Finis Poloniae;* Markos Botzaris, for modern Greece the reincarcountry of Sparta's King Leonidas; Daniel O'Connell, Ireland's defender; George Washington, founder of the American Union; Daniele Manin, the Italian patriot; Abraham Lincoln, dead from the bullet of a believer before in slavery; and ultimately, that martyr for the redemption of the black race, John Brvery own, hanging from his genables as Victor Hugo's pencil has so terrifyingly depicted.

*Latin: "Save Poland's boundaries." Ed.

What was the bond between these heroic souls and also the soul of Captain Nemo? From this collection of portraits can I lastly unravel the mystery of his existence? Was he a fighter for oppressed individuals, a liberator of enslaved races? Had he figured in the current political or social upheavals of this century? Was he a hero of that disastrous civil war in America, a war lamentable yet forever glorious . . . ?

Suddenly the clock struck eight. The first stroke of its hammer on the chime snapped me out of my musings. I shuddered as if some invisible eye had plunged into my innermany thoughts, and I ruburned external the stateroom.

Tright here my eyes dropped on the compass. Our heading was still northerly. The log shown a moderate rate, the pressure gauge a depth of about sixty feet. So situations were in favor of the Canadian's plans.

I stayed in my stateroom. I dressed warmly: fishing boots, otter cap, coat of fan–mussel fabric lined via sealskin. I was prepared. I was waiting. Only the propeller's vibrations disturbed the deep silence reigning on board. I cocked an ear and also listened. Would a sudden outburst of voices tell me that Ned Land's escape plans had actually simply been detected? A ghastly uneasiness stole via me. I tried in vain to recover my compocertain.

A few minutes prior to nine o'clock, I glued my ear to the captain's door. Not a sound. I left my stateroom and went back to the lounge, which was deserted and plunged in near darkness.

I opened up the door bring about the library. The exact same insufficient light, the exact same solitude. I visited man my short article near the door opening right into the well of the main companionmeans. I waited for Ned Land's signal.

At this suggest the propeller's vibrations slowed dvery own appreciably, then they died out altogether. Why was the Nautilus stopping? Whether this layover would certainly aid or hinder Ned Land's schemes I couldn't have said.

The silence was further disturbed only by the pounding of my heart.

Suddenly I felt a mild jolt. I realized the Nautilus had actually involved remainder on the ocean floor. My alarm boosted. The Canadian's signal hadn't got to me. I longed to rejoin Ned Land also and urge him to postpone his attempt. I sensed that we were no much longer navigating under normal conditions.

Just then the door to the primary lounge opened up and Captain Nemo showed up. He witnessed me, and without additionally preamble:

"Ah, Professor," he sassist in an affable tone, "I've been trying to find you. Do you know your Spanish history?"

Even if he knew it by heart, a male in my disturbed, befuddled problem couldn't have actually quoted a syllable of his own country's background.

"Well?" Captain Nemo went on. "Did you hear my question? Do you know the history of Spain?"

"Very little of it," I responded.

"The many learned males," the captain said, "still have actually a lot to learn. Have a seat," he included, "and I'll tell you around an unusual episode in this body of history."

The captain extended out on a couch, and also I mechanically took a seat near him, but half in the shadows.

"Professor," he sassist, "listen very closely. This piece of history pertains to you in one definite respect, because it will certainly answer a question you've no doubt been unable to fix."

"I'm listening, Captain," I shelp, not learning what my companion in this dialogue was driving at, and also wondering if this occurrence concerned our escape plans.

"Professor," Captain Nemo went on, "if you're ampermit, we'll go earlier in time to 1702. You're aware of the fact that in those days your King Louis XIV believed an imperial gesture would suffice to humble the Pyrenees in the dust, so he inflicted his grandchild, the Duke of Anjou, on the Spaniards. Reigning more or much less poorly under the name King Philip V, this aristocrat had actually to attend to mighty adversaries awide.

"In significance, the year before, the royal houses of Holland, Austria, and England also had actually signed a treaty of alliance at The Hague, aiming to wremainder the Spanish crown from King Philip V and also to place it on the head of an archduke whom they prematudepend called King Charles III.

"Spain had to withstand these allies. But the nation had actually nearly no army or navy. Yet it wasn't short of money, offered that its galleons, laden with gold and silver from America, might enter its ports. Now then, late in 1702 Spain was expecting a rich convoy, which France ventured to escort with a fleet of twenty–three vessels under the command of Admiral de Chateau–Renault, because by that time the allied navies were roving the Atlantic.

"This convoy was intended to put right into Cadiz, however after finding out that the English fleet lay across those watermethods, the admiral chose to make for a French port.

"The Spanish commanders in the convoy objected to this decision. They wanted to be taken to a Spanish port, if not to Cadiz, then to the Bay of Vigo, situated on Spain's northwest coastline and also not blockaded.

"Admiral de Chateau–Renault was so indecisive as to obey this directive, and the galleons gone into the Bay of Vigo.

"Unfortunately this bay creates an open up, offshore mooring that's difficult to protect. So it was important to hurry and empty the galleons prior to the allied fleets arrived, and also there would certainly have been ample time for this unloading, if a wrlutz-heilmann.infohed question of profession agreements hadn't all of a sudden come up.

"Are you clear on the chain of events?" Captain Nemo asked me.

"Perfectly clear," I said, not yet discovering why I was being given this background leschild.

"Then I'll proceed. Here's what involved pass. The tradesmales of Cadiz had negotiated a charter by which they were to receive all merchandise coming from the West Indies. Now then, unloading the ingots from those galleons at the port of Vigo would certainly have actually been a violation of their civil liberties. So they lodged a complaint in Madrid, and also they obtained an order from the indecisive King Philip V: without unloading, the convoy would certainly continue to be in custody at the offshore mooring of Vigo till the adversary fleets had retreated.

"Now then, just as this decision was being handed dvery own, English vessels arrived in the Bay of Vigo on October 22, 1702. Despite his inferior pressures, Admiral de Chateau–Renault combated courageously. But as soon as he experienced that the convoy's riches was around to loss right into adversary hands, he melted and also scuttled the galleons, which saw the bottom with their immense prizes."

Captain Nemo quit. I admit it: I still couldn't see how this piece of background pertained to me.

"Well?" I asked him.

"Well, Professor Aronnax," Captain Nemo answered me, "we're actually in that Bay of Vigo, and all that's left is for you to probe the mysteries of the place."

The captain stood up and also invited me to follow him. I'd had time to collect myself. I did so. The lounge was dark, however the sea's waves sparkled through the transparent home windows. I stared.

Around the Nautilus for a half–mile radius, the waters appeared saturated via electric light. The sandy bottom was clear and bbest. Dressed in diving suits, crewguys were busy clearing away half–rotted barrels and also disemboweled trunks in the middle of the dingy hulks of ships. Out of these trunks and kegs spilled ingots of gold and also silver, cascades of jewels, pieces of eight. The sand was heaped with them. Then, laden with these useful spoils, the men went back to the Nautilus, dropped off their burdens inside, and went to resume this inexhaustible fishing for silver and gold.

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I interpreted. This was the setting of that battle on October 22, 1702. Here, in this extremely location, those galleons moving treacertain to the Spanish federal government had gone to the bottom. Here, whenever he necessary, Captain Nemo involved withattract these millions to ballast his Nautilus. It was for him, for him alone, that America had surrendered up its valuable metals. He was the straight, single heir to these prizes wrested from the Incas and also those individuals dominated by Hernando Cortez!

"Did you know, professor," he asked me via a smile, "that the sea contained such wealth?"

"I understand it's estimated," I responded, "that tbelow are 2,000,000 metric lots of silver held in suspension in seawater."

"Sucount, however in extracting that silver, your costs would certainly outweigh your profits. Here, by contrast, I have only to pick up what various other males have lost, and also not only in this Bay of Vigo but at a thousand other sites where ships have gone dvery own, whose positions are marked on my underwater chart. Do you understand also now that I'm affluent to the tune of billions?"

"I understand also, Captain. Nonetheless, enable me to increate you that by harvesting this incredibly Bay of Vigo, you're ssuggest forestalling the initiatives of a rival company."

"What organization?"

"A agency chartered by the Spanish federal government to search for these sunken galleons. The company's investors were lured by the bait of huge gains, because this scuttled treacertain is estimated to be worth ₣500,000,000."

"It was 500,000,000 francs," Captain Nemo replied, "however no more!"

"Right," I shelp. "Hence a timely warning to those investors would be an act of charity. Yet that knows if it would be well received? Generally what gamblers regret the the majority of isn't the loss of their money so much as the loss of their insane really hopes. But ultimately I feel less sorry for them than for the hundreds of unfortunate human being that would have benefited from a fair distribution of this riches, whereas currently it will certainly be of no assist to them!"

No sooner had I voiced this regret than I felt it must have actually wounded Captain Nemo.

"No help!" he responded through growing computer animation. "Sir, what provides you assume this wealth goes to waste as soon as I'm the one amassing it? Do you think I toil to gather this treacertain out of selfishness? Who claims I don't put it to good use? Do you think I'm unmindful of the suffering beings and oppressed races living on this earth, negative human being to comfort, victims to avenge? Don't you understand also . . . ?"

Captain Nemo stopped on these last words, maybe sorry that he had said as well a lot. But I had guessed. Whatever motives had actually moved him to look for self-reliance under the seas, he continued to be a huguy being before all else! His heart still throbbed for enduring mankind, and his immense philanthropy went out both to downtrodden races and to individuals!

And now I kbrand-new where Captain Nemo had actually ceded those millions, as soon as the Nautilus navigated the waters wbelow Crete remained in rebellion against the Ottoguy Empire!