SECOND PART
CHAPTER 3: A Pearl Worth Ten Million
(continued)
Captain Nemo, Conseil, Ned Land, and I found seats in the stern
of the skiff. The longboat's coxswain took the tiller; his four
companions leaned into their oars; the moorings were cast off
and we pulled clear.
The skiff headed southward. The oarsmen took their time.
I watched their strokes vigorously catch the water, and they
always waited ten seconds before rowing again, following the
practice used in most navies. While the longboat coasted,
drops of liquid flicked from the oars and hit the dark troughs
of the waves, pitter-pattering like splashes of molten lead.
Coming from well out, a mild swell made the skiff roll gently,
and a few cresting billows lapped at its bow.
We were silent. What was Captain Nemo thinking? Perhaps that
this approaching shore was too close for comfort, contrary to
the Canadian's views in which it still seemed too far away.
As for Conseil, he had come along out of simple curiosity.
Near 5:30 the first glimmers of light on the horizon defined
the upper lines of the coast with greater distinctness.
Fairly flat to the east, it swelled a little toward the south.
Five miles still separated it from us, and its beach merged with
the misty waters. Between us and the shore, the sea was deserted.
Not a boat, not a diver. Profound solitude reigned over this
gathering place of pearl fishermen. As Captain Nemo had commented,
we were arriving in these waterways a month too soon.
At six o'clock the day broke suddenly, with that speed unique
to tropical regions, which experience no real dawn or dusk.
The sun's rays pierced the cloud curtain gathered on the easterly horizon,
and the radiant orb rose swiftly.
I could clearly see the shore, which featured a few sparse trees
here and there.
The skiff advanced toward Mannar Island, which curved to the south.
Captain Nemo stood up from his thwart and studied the sea.
At his signal the anchor was lowered, but its chain barely ran
because the bottom lay no more than a meter down, and this locality
was one of the shallowest spots near the bank of shellfish.
Instantly the skiff wheeled around under the ebb tide's outbound thrust.
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