SECOND PART
CHAPTER 4: The Red Sea
(continued)
On February 9 the Nautilus cruised in the widest part of the Red Sea,
measuring 190 miles straight across from Suakin on the west coast
to Qunfidha on the east coast.
At noon that day after our position fix, Captain Nemo climbed onto
the platform, where I happened to be. I vowed not to let him go
below again without at least sounding him out on his future plans.
As soon as he saw me, he came over, graciously offered me a cigar,
and said to me:
"Well, professor, are you pleased with this Red Sea? Have you seen
enough of its hidden wonders, its fish and zoophytes, its gardens
of sponges and forests of coral? Have you glimpsed the towns built
on its shores?"
"Yes, Captain Nemo," I replied, "and the Nautilus is wonderfully
suited to this whole survey. Ah, it's a clever boat!"
"Yes, sir, clever, daring, and invulnerable! It fears neither
the Red Sea's dreadful storms nor its currents and reefs."
"Indeed," I said, "this sea is mentioned as one of the worst,
and in the days of the ancients, if I'm not mistaken, it had
an abominable reputation."
"Thoroughly abominable, Professor Aronnax. The Greek and Latin
historians can find nothing to say in its favor, and the Greek
geographer Strabo adds that it's especially rough during
the rainy season and the period of summer prevailing winds.
The Arab Idrisi, referring to it by the name Gulf of Colzoum,
relates that ships perished in large numbers on its sandbanks
and that no one risked navigating it by night. This, he claims,
is a sea subject to fearful hurricanes, strewn with inhospitable islands,
and 'with nothing good to offer,' either on its surface or in
its depths. As a matter of fact, the same views can also be found
in Arrian, Agatharchides, and Artemidorus."
"One can easily see," I answered, "that those historians didn't
navigate aboard the Nautilus."
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