CHAPTER 18: The Devilfish
FOR SOME DAYS the Nautilus kept veering away from the American coast.
It obviously didn't want to frequent the waves of the Gulf of Mexico
or the Caribbean Sea. Yet there was no shortage of water under
its keel, since the average depth of these seas is 1,800 meters;
but these waterways, strewn with islands and plowed by steamers,
probably didn't agree with Captain Nemo.
On April 16 we raised Martinique and Guadalupe from a distance of
about thirty miles. For one instant I could see their lofty peaks.
The Canadian was quite disheartened, having counted on putting
his plans into execution in the gulf, either by reaching shore
or by pulling alongside one of the many boats plying a coastal trade
from one island to another. An escape attempt would have been
quite feasible, assuming Ned Land managed to seize the skiff without
the captain's knowledge. But in midocean it was unthinkable.
The Canadian, Conseil, and I had a pretty long conversation on
this subject. For six months we had been prisoners aboard the Nautilus.
We had fared 17,000 leagues, and as Ned Land put it, there was no
end in sight. So he made me a proposition I hadn't anticipated.
We were to ask Captain Nemo this question straight out:
did the captain mean to keep us on board his vessel permanently?
This measure was distasteful to me. To my mind it would lead nowhere.
We could hope for nothing from the Nautilus's commander
but could depend only on ourselves. Besides, for some time
now the man had been gloomier, more withdrawn, less sociable.
He seemed to be avoiding me. I encountered him only at rare intervals.
He used to take pleasure in explaining the underwater wonders to me;
now he left me to my research and no longer entered the lounge.
What changes had come over him? From what cause? I had no reason
to blame myself. Was our presence on board perhaps a burden to him?
Even so, I cherished no hopes that the man would set us free.