Читать книгу Tarana and the island of immortality - Michel Montecrossa - Страница 8

On the seventh day of our journey we reached the Sargasso Sea, and our Captain, Thunderbolt, called all of us together to discuss our situation and to inform us that thanks to fine weather and calm seas we should begin on the following day with the first diving attempts.

On this evening the ship’s salon was filled with a special tension which takes hold of our hearts, when we are shortly to fulfill a long planned adventure.

Margaret and I had strangely enough, as the others, made ourselves quite dapper for this evening, as if we were going off to a ball or an official visit and yet we were merely preparing ourselves to visit a world in a narrow diving sphere, hardly any calls for a celebrity or a torrid mood.

So it seemed, but human beings are different, especially when they don’t exactly know what awaits them – which is indeed most often the case.

We became more or less simultaneously aware of this strange mechanism of feelings when we entered the salon.

I had to hold myself together and Margaret raised her eyebrows in her, “what is this all about?”-way, shrugged her shoulders and then we both assumed our improperly proper positions.

We sat down to table, and Mr. Upperpretty requested our attention for a small speech regarding coming events.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he raised his voice which had a certain unctuous tone as if he were counting money not with his fingers but with his vocal cords, “well – hm – as you know, tomorrow shall be a historical day for the modern sciences. Since we all know the importance of this event and since it is nevertheless impossible that we should all here get our place in the diving sphere in order to take part at the first diving expedition, I suggest, that we draw today in order to determine, who shall join in which expedition.”

A chatty applause went through the crowd.

“I like this Upperpretty,” said Margaret while she found a way with her napkin to give the penetrating smoke of McCormick’s pipe to Yvette Blanc, the girlfriend of Lord Downhill.

“He really thought in time to avoid a wild fight in order to secure the first place.”

Somehow I had a feeling to have to say something and so I stood up and put my finest suit in form.

“In my days in the Boy Scouts I learned how to conduct such a drawing using matches, and I assume that Mr. McCormick will be happy to help us with his.”

I had a pleasure indeed to tap a miserly Scot, though I knew of course that Lady Swine was a cigar smoker.

Margaret suppressed a laughing fit and pushed me her elbow in the side. “The story with the Boy Scouts was not really proper, you unworldly writer, but the Scottish joke – that was directed.”

These words she whispered quickly to me as she got up to bend with a choice ironic smile to the totally flabbergasted Mr. McCormick and to say so that everyone could hear it:

“Your matches, please, Mr. McCormick.”

This demand even a Scot could not deny and so we could start the drawing.

I took a number of matches corresponding to the participants and made two of them shorter, for in the diving sphere there was only an off-space of two persons. Then I held the matches in my hands in such a way that they made a row, in which each match seemed of the same length and so each could pull one match. Who pulled out the two short pieces, had found his place in the diving sphere.

And so in this way we had soon determined the order for the participation at the coming adventure.

Naturally Professor Pickering and Captain Thunderbolt would perform the first expedition; they were followed by Lady Swine and Mademoiselle Blanc, Lord Downhill and Mr. Upperpretty, Lord Snowdown and Mr. McCormick, Mrs. McCormick and Mr. Bancroft, and then Margaret and myself, last but not least.

I was really pleased, that fate had let us together, not knowing what was to arrive to us.

The morning arrived in red glory and a few clouds on the horizon. The sea was not as quiet as expected, and yet the waves were acceptable enough so that Captain Thunderbolt and Professor Pickering after an extensive examination of the weather gave the command to bring the submarine in the place on the especially constructed crane in diving position.

The ropes tightened slowly, while Professor Pickering explained the diving candidates once more what one needs to know about the technical aspect of the diving sphere.

“Here on the top of the diving sphere there is a magnesium-lamp which should allow a visibility of ca. 100 m,” he explained.

“Between the ropes is applied a command line and a fresh air provision cable. By means of the command line you can by simple code signals make commands, whether the diving sphere should rise or sink, be manœuvred to the left or right, forward or backwards. By the cable for fresh air supply you will receive constant fresh air. Before the comfortable bench you will find an oval, isolated viewing window. There is a possibility as well to look out of the diving sphere to the left and to the right through two little round windows. One should enter into the diving sphere by means of a door diagonally above the seats which can be screwed by a big wheel. An emergency equipment with medicaments, tools, food and emergency clothing would be found in the two sea chests behind the seats.”

Professor Pickering stopped for a moment, and then added as he had often done before:

“Naturally the emergency materials are on board merely as a matter of form in our totally safe diving sphere.”

All the assembled had heard this introductory speech many times. But today we listened to his known words as if we heard them for the first time.

At 10 a.m. all preparations were complete and Captain Thunderbolt entered with Professor Pickering the diving sphere. They carefully screwed the door shut. The diving sphere was then heaved by the imposing crane and slowly lowered into the water. Our hearts were beating like anything. What awaited the two pioneers? What happened to all of us in the course of the day?

The Sargasso Sea was known to me through my geographical articles as a 8,5 millions sqkm portion of the open Atlantic Ocean. Its name derived from the Portuguese word, ”sargaco” that means “seaweed” or ”seagrass,” for located between the Azores, the Bermudas and the Westindian Islands, the Sargasso Sea is the central area of that circuit of the seaweed. I also knew that here was the spawning reproduction ground for eels.

Since the surface temperature ranges between 20-25 ° Celsius, Professor Pickering could dispense with heating of the diving sphere against possible reduction of body temperature.

Despite of the average depth of 3000 m the various areas of the Atlantic Ocean were very different in their actual depth. Professor Pickering therefore had provided for his diving sphere a maximum depth of 1500 m, and chose for our region for the expedition an area located on a long back of an enormous ocean shelf in less than 200 m depth. Here there should be rich possibilities to study diverse undersea landscapes, flora and fauna.

The Mayflower II was at present above a hilly undersea landscape which had been plumbed on the previous day and which corresponded in the main extent to the imaginations of Professor Pickering.

When I stood together with the others at the rail collecting my scientific facts to my mind, Professor Pickering and Captain Thunderbolt began to give the first signals, for the crane was moved into different directions. Sometimes the sphere remained in one position or was lowered down bit by bit.

After a good hour the sign was given to reemerge and shortly thereafter the two somewhat dazed, but glowing heroes emerged from the seaweed-covered diving sphere.

Accompanied by our enthusiastically questioning applause the two gave us an exciting report about the wonderful manoeuvrability of the diving sphere and the good visibility.

And so all of us could take our turn in the journey into the deeps of the sea.

Lady Swine emerged from her excursion in the wonder sphere with a strong “magnificent” and Mr. McCormick found everything “quite all right”. Yvette Blanc fell into the arms of her Lord with a squeaky “Mon chéri” and all the others were more or less speechlessly impressed.

In the late afternoon the hour for Margaret and me had come.

Captain Thunderbolt looked thoughtfully at the sky where the clouds had thickened in the course of the day. Nevertheless he judged the situation despite strong waves to be safe. Finally we were allowed to enter the sphere.

I was the first one to climb in. The round interior room was upholstered with red velvet, as well as the seats before the viewing window. On the concave walls grips had been attached so that I could manœuvre myself over the wooden back of the seats and slide myself into the soft cushioning.

Margaret followed, and so we sat for a moment and looked out over the ocean before us, which despite almost totally clouded skies seemed to glow with a strange light.

We tested the air, lights and signal connection. Then we were ready to dive and Captain Thunderbolt leaned over the hatch still open and looked through:

“You can now close the door from within and give the signal to dive. May God be with you.”

He tipped his cap to us and was gone. I stood up once again on the wood cover above, under which were the emergency provisions, and heaved the iron door closed which fit perfectly to the round form of the diving sphere; using the large hand wheel. I screwed the door shut and then I swang myself back on the upholstering of the seat.

Through the closing of the door the sphere had suddenly become quiet and the ocean appeared alien and uncanny in its silence. Since I did not want to bother Margaret right at the start with my fearful fantasies, I kept silent and pulled out my writing utensils and my notebook and arranged them on the small shelf.

“Now we can give the signal,” I said and turned to Margaret. She nodded decisively and muttered to my surprise:

“I’m damned curious, what awaits us down there, but I don’t like the ocean today.”

This time I didn’t say anything. I gave the signal to submerge.

Shortly thereafter one could hear a soft humming and the heavy diving sphere was lifted by the strong cable-winches and a small swing out to the right. Now we must be right over the ocean surface. One more jolt and we slowly sank into the water. As we entered the water, for a few seconds we were swung about in the waves which foamed on the viewing window. We were then surrounded by a magical blue-green light, and as we sank deeper we could see the surface of the water from below like wavering silver.

Directly in front of us one could only see a blue-green expanse without any distinct objects. I leaned forward somewhat and looked diagonally below. The general blue-green shaded into a darker area and as we sank slowly deeper, out of the general forms of these blue hued areas emerged the contours of an undersea landscape.

I had a look on the depth measuring instrument. We had submerged to about 25 m. I could now see below us the lightly hilly surface which descended to a valley on the left whose floor I could not see. Further back the valley seemed to be defined by a steep coral riff.

Professor Pickering had really found a good place for the diving expedition.

Margaret and I had overcome our initial queasiness and were now gripped by the magic of the blue-violet light that surrounded us.

The surface below us had to be a paradisical place of life for every possible ocean plant and animal and we looked out with excitement upon the approaching ocean landscape. Within the visibility of 100 m the surface showed itself in more and more detail. We could see overgrown rock formations which appeared to have all sorts of forms on our right side. This area seemed to me especially interesting and so I gave the signal to stop, to halt the descent, and to swing us slowly to the right.

Up to then Margaret and I had not spoken a word. I pointed to the rocky landscape:

“We are still in the photoic zone above the 100 m. Perhaps we can be swung over there into that area. Then we could sink between the rock formations and have a much closer look to the diverse sea-life there.”

She nodded silently.

In the meantime the swing manœuvre was completed und the diving sphere stood still once more. Directly below us was a depression between two rock formations. We looked carefully into the depths. Now the diving sphere stood still and we could see an incredible diversity of swarming fish or schools of fish through the viewing window as they swam by and as if obeying some silent command they changed suddenly their direction in a perfect unity. And then again they continued their beautiful gliding dance.

Through the sideways motion we were now on the edge of the seaweed forest whose leaves grew 70 m up into the sunlight. These seaweed plants were attached to the rocks with root-like plates on which leaves grew which were carried by gas bubbles.

I was intending to make a few drawings of this underwater forest. As I reached for my note-book, my view fell on the water below us, and there I saw a long blue-black shadow gliding out on its way in the seaweed thicket. Margaret had seen the movement as well and gripped my arm.

“What is it?”

We both tried in the half light to see what sort of being it was that had appeared. Finally I saw a form of a four meter long tiger-shark.

A chill ran down my spine for I had heard enough stories about this wolf of the seas and even written one for myself.

“It is a tiger-shark,” I answered Margaret.

At the same moment the shark turned as if it had heard me diagonally above and swam directly to our viewing window.

Margaret screamed as she saw the demonic looking animal approach.

The tiger shark glid over our diving sphere and we were able to have a close look at the horrid killing rows of teeth directly in front of the window.

The shark crossed the window two more times, we had quite a long time a look into the uncannily lively and death promising eyes and then the animal disappeared in the blue-violet darkness of the seaweed.

My hands trembled and Margaret was still holding tightly to my arm. Now she let me go and laughed:

“We are certainly scaredy-cats. But I think we ought to continue a bit further to investigate and not turn tail and return at once to the Mayflower.”

I agreed with her. I too had no intention to make a bad appearance in front of our certainly more fearful predecessors, and so I boldly gave the signal, that the diving sphere should continue its descent.

Between the seaweed we could see the rock-formations upon which ocean animals were perched quite like plants, which I have written about so much. I took a special note of a collection of sea-anemones which looked like a large dahlia-blossom – but in reality are meat-eating animals.

Till now we had not switched on the external light so that all forms appeared in blue and blue-violet colors. Now I turned on the magnesium-light as I wished to make visible for Margaret and of course also for myself the magnificence of color of the undersea life.

We were astonished! The sea-anemones showed their glowing red and not far from them was a colony of sea-sheaths in blue-white colors with red markings. A number of sea urchins glowed in their green and others in their purple costumes.

In the meantime we had reached about 100 m and I gave the signal to stop. We wanted to have the time to observe longer all those colors and forms and swimming by fish and I began enthusiastically to draw and take notes. Margaret gave me helpful hints, as she had quite a discerning eye and could often take note of the quickly disappearing fish that swam by.

We must have spent about half an hour in that fashion before a surprising signal was sent by the Mayflower II to the diving sphere. In conjunction with my work as a writer I had learned Morse code so that our communications were not limited to simple signals.

“What’s going on?” Margaret asked and I deciphered the clattering Morse signals that were coming through the command line.

“We’re having problems with the winches and cannot, at this moment, raise the diving sphere.”

Suddenly we were prisoners of the sea!

I signalled back and asked how long the repairs would take.

“Two hours,” we were told.

We weren’t exactly put at ease but we nevertheless had the impression that we were not in imminent danger.

“Continue your sketches,” said Margaret. “It’s calming and more productive than brooding.”

She was right, naturally, and I followed her advice.

An ever-changing variety of fish glided through the wide beam of light; they often swam in groups or formations and sometimes presented themselves as a single species. The play of their colors and forms and their entire way of moving was a constant spectacle. Although the diving sphere was now hanging motionless on the cables and we could not change our position, we had a good view of the over-grown rock landscape and the area around it.

It was gradually growing darker, however, and finally the light from our lamp was the only illumination.

Just at that moment, as our hearts were about to be overtaken by a clammy feeling of fear, a thickly pressed together school of fish were swimming in our beam.

Margaret and me were staring somewhat mindlessly at the suddenly bright scene as something powerful suddenly shot out of the seaweed – it was a sawfish!

He rammed his way into the fish formation in front of us and with lightning speed tore apart a few fish with his saw-formed snout. The remains sunk to the ocean floor where the sawfish dined upon them.

Margaret and me were deeply shocked and noticed how exhausted we were.

I put my arm around Margaret, for we had both become cold. We prayed silently as the sawfish shot out again from below us and swam over the diving sphere; it must have gotten caught in the cables and wires because we suddenly were being swung around and the tail fin of the giant animal whipped against the glass of our window.

We grabbed onto the grips. My writing materials flew to the ground and the sphere was so tossed that we swung back and forth like a huge pendulum.

The movements were bringing us dangerously close to the rock formations. The thickly-grown seaweed forest seemed to prevent the worst by acting as a polstering, pinched between the diving sphere and the rock.

After one or two minutes of terror the sawfish had freed itself from its predicament and had disappeared. The movements of the diving sphere calmed down again, the wildly stirred-up seaweed smoothed out and opened the view through the viewing window.

We had been thrown all around the sphere so we got back into our positions.

My first concern was our air supply.

Thank God! I could still hear the soft hiss.

I then tried to make contact with the Mayflower. I signalled again and again but received no answer. The sawfish must have snapped the cable in his thrashing!

I fell back onto the seat cushion. I was stunned and a numbness came over me. Margaret, whom I had not told anything, leaned over to me and looked at me lovingly with her pale face. She had obviously understood the new terrible news without words. She softly caressed my cheek and I felt a stream of peace emanating from her that helped me to reorder my confused thoughts.

“Douglas, whatever awaits us let us not despair but rather put our lives in God’s hands. Our souls are always free and at peace.”

My eyes were full of tears and I was afraid to die and afraid of all the tortures that were yet to come.

She seemed to read my thoughts and said:

“There is always hope, Douglas. Think about God. Our little wills and our actions are now incapable, but not the power of His mercy. What ever happens it won’t take too long and won’t matter in the Glory that awaits us.”

I breathed deeply.

“I’m sorry, Margaret. My nerves are just all gone.”

She put her hand on my shoulder.

“Mine too.”

Then she smiled.

“The shark has already gobbled them up.”

I managed to force a little smile and reached behind the seats where a few blankets were stowed. We wrapped ourselves up and sat looking out the viewing glass.

I don’t know how long we sat like that in silence, but I suddenly had the impression that our magnesium lamp was flickering. I asked Margaret:

“Did you see that flickering as well?”

Margaret had slumbered off but woke up and opened her eyes when she heard my question.

“It just seemed as though our lamp were flickering,” I said and we both looked carefully at the beam of light that pierced into the dark sea from our diving sphere.

Then we both suddenly saw the light grow stronger!

“That is not flickering,” I said, “It’s more like another light, as if light were coming from somewhere else.”

We observed the strange phenomenon several times. It seemed to grow more frequent. Finally we decided to turn off the diving sphere’s lamp.

For a moment we found ourselves in complete darkness and then we saw that flickering light shining down on us from above.

“It must be a storm!” I exclaimed, taken aback.

The flickering lights grew stronger und we could feel the diving sphere begin to sway and bob up and down.

Apparently the Mayflower II had been surprised by a lightning storm!

The pale flashes of light grew stronger and stronger and the movements of the diving sphere were becoming more and more threatening. The seaweed forest in front of us began again its bizare dance, illuminated again and again by the irregular flashes of light, which looked like a living vision of a man in fever delirium.

Then there was a sudden jolt und it seemed as if the diving sphere was moving upwards!

I turned the magnesium light back on and we were in fact on our way back to the surface!

The closer we came to the surface, the brighter the lightning flashes became and the rougher the sea.

We held tight on the hand grips. Captain Thunderbold had the winches at full speed and we approached the surface relatively rapidly.

Finally the sphere resurfaced. Gray, mountainous waves surged in front of our viewing glass and streams of rain pierced the ray of light from our lamp. Lightning flashed and the sphere swung about more intensely than it had under the water.

We could barely feel the ship heaving the sphere over the deck as we were in constant motion. I suddenly saw a bit of the deck through the viewing window and knew we must be back on board. I rushed to the door, undid the bolt and turned back the locking mechanism as fast as I could. Then I pushed the door open and tried to hold on somehow with my shoulder.

“Margaret, come quickly,” I yelled and pulled her past me.

Helping hands took her and she disappeared from my field of vision.

Before I had a chance to consider the next step, the ship was hit hard by a wave and I was thrown back into the sphere and the door swung shut; then the ship keeled in the other direction. Through the viewing glass I saw gray-white mist, illuminated by the lightning, coming closer and closer and I leaped to the door instinctively and turned and turned! With my last remaining strength I bolted the door shut!

The sphere had leaned over more and more and then suddenly fell into the sea with a hefty jolt. I was still hanging on the door’s locking wheel, my hands like lock wrenches. In front of the glass was night and then grey-white tumult. The sphere was obviously still attached to the crane and was being plunged again and again into the water. Violent, thundering impacts shook the sphere as it smacked against the hull of the ship!

The Mayflower II must have been caught in a hurricane.

Then I noticed in horror that the sphere was remaining under water for longer periods! The cables seemed to have snapped loose! I emerged once more from the water – then a thundering hit and the sphere tumbled over unimpeded into the sea. It was dark around me at once and the pale flashes quickly faded and with a last thought about Margaret I lost consciousness.

At some point I awoke again. I had painful contusions that convinced me that I was not yet merged with eternity.

I was surrounded by complete darkness. The air was thick and suffocating. The crane’s cables and all the other connections were obviously broken and I was sitting on the bottom of the Sargasso Sea. The air line was twisted through the impacts that water couldn’t come through – so I had a little time to suffocate rather than drown!

Now, the end being so unavoidable, I was overcome with a strange sense of peace and I was happy that Margaret had been saved.

The air grew steadily worse and I began to cough. I had lost all time orientation and didn’t know if seconds or hours had passed when the sphere began to sway and then started to roll!

I tried to grab hold of something in the darkness and, by a miracle, found a hand grip. Pressed up against the polstered wall I could get along with the rolling movement more or less though I didn’t know how long it would last.

The sphere was moving faster and faster and didn’t seem to be bouncing along the ocean surface anymore. The rolling became more of a lurching.

I suspected that the sphere was caught in an undersea current and a shimmer of hope appeared in my heart.

I had no idea whether the journey was headed for the depth’s of the Atlantic, where the sphere would be crushed by the pressure or whether I was rolling over a flat surface. I just wanted to remain conscious.

Again and again my senses threatened to give out but I managed not to let go off the grips.

Then the sphere’s speed seemed to increase, the twisting became more intense and the sphere was about to go into a roll again as a crunching sound came from the steel walls and the sphere suddenly came to a stop!

I was thrown to the side and fell unconscious onto the seats.

My fainting spell must not have lasted long as the air quality had not decreased substantially.

I opened my eyes.

A beam of light from a diagonal above me was shining in my face through the viewing glass!

I was so delirious that I thought I was in a dream and I looked at the light as if it were a spectacle. Then I came completely back into consciousness and pulled myself up with a pounding heart: a beam of light!

I tried to understand the situation as best I could: The sphere was sitting still and the viewing glass was pointed upwards at a diagonal. I carefully observed the beam of light. It was coming through an irregular opening some 10 meters above the sphere and little by little I could make out more details through my overtaxed eyes.

Yes, it was definitely a cave or a grotto in which the sphere had landed! An underwater current must have drawn me in and so I must have been near the surface.

I could clearly make out rock walls and realized to my great surprise that the sphere was no longer under water!

A new strength from somewhere went through my battered body and I tried to open the door. Thank God it was not impeded and a few moments later I could throw it open.

I leaned out of the sphere. Fresh air filled my plagued lungs!

Now I could see that I was in a sort of rock dome which led into underwater caves. In a flash I saw that the rock walls were wet. So the sphere had been caught in the tide and had been pressed up into this dome through one of the undersea caves. Luckily it got caught here between several stones. Then the tide went out.

As I had been unconscious I had no idea when the water would rise again and fill the dome.

My only hope was the opening through which the beam of light had come.

I wasted no time and climbed over stones and slipping seaweed to the rock face in front of me. I could there see that it was quite rough and naggy. I was relieved, climbing to the opening was possible! But who could say that the opening wouldn‘t be flooded as well? And what would await me up there?

“Pointless thoughts,” I said to myself and put them aside.

I wanted, in any case, to rescue the emergency supplies from the diving sphere, so I rushed back.

Professor Pickering had stored them in two sea chests. Using a rope that was stowed with the chests, I tied them together so that I could carry them like a backpack.

I stumbled over the stones to the rock face, climbed up a few meters, then pulled up both chests with the rope.

The opening came closer and closer. Three more meters. Two meters. Just a few more steps and I would be there. In that moment my right foot slipped on the slimy rocks! I had to drop the rope with the two chests in order to grab hold of the rock face. They fell a few meters and landed on a jutting rock with a crack.

Thank God they had survived the fall!

The rope had slipped away so that I had to try to climb down to the two chests or decide to give them up. Although I was right in front of the opening I chose to climb down again to rescue the sea chests.

I was carefully climbing down testing each hold with my feet when I realized that the dome was beginning to fill with water.

Cold sweat appeared on my forehead.

I tenaciously set one foot in front of the other.

The diving sphere was already halfway under water and gurgeling water flooded through the open door into the interior.

I had reached the chests. I carefully laid down on my stomach and tried to grasp the end of the rope which was hanging over the edge of the jut in the rock face.

The diving sphere below me began to sway and slid out of its position between the rocks.

The rope slipped twice out of my hand, but then I got a good grip and began to climb again.

The water rose faster and faster. The diving sphere was completely submerged and as I took a moment’s break to catch my breath I watched as the tide rolled it into one of the caves where it disappeared.

I again gathered all my strength and reached the edge of the opening with one hand. I used the other hand to pull up the chests.

I carefully lifted them through the opening and slid them to the side.

Now I had both hands free and could pull myself up using the edge of the opening.

I was surrounded by light and there I was, on a large island!