“Nothing easier,” Captain Nemo said. And he pressed an electric button, transmitting an order to the crew’s quarters. “There, sir, all under control!” he told me after a few moments. “The skiff is in place and the hatches are closed. I don’t imagine you’re worried that these gentlemen will stave in walls that shells from your frigate couldn’t breach?” “No, captain, but one danger still remains.” “What’s that, sir?” “Tomorrow at about this time, we’ll need to reopen the hatches to renew the Nautilus’s air.” “No argument, sir, since our craft breathes in the manner favored by cetaceans.” “But if these Papuans are occupying the platform at that moment, I don’t see how you can prevent them from entering.” “Then, sir, you assume they’ll board the ship?” “I’m certain of it.” “Well, sir, let them come aboard. I see no reason to prevent them. Deep down they’re just poor devils, these Papuans, and I don’t want my visit to Gueboroa Island to cost the life of a single one of these unfortunate people!” On this note I was about to withdraw; but Captain Nemo detained me and invited me to take a seat next to him. He questioned me with interest on our excursions ashore and on our hunting, but seemed not to understand the Canadian’s passionate craving for red meat. Then our conversation skimmed various subjects, and without being more forthcoming, Captain Nemo proved more affable. Among other things, we came to talk of the Nautilus’s circumstances, aground in the same strait where Captain Dumont d’Urville had nearly miscarried. Then, pertinent to this: “He was one of your great seamen,” the captain told me, “one of your shrewdest navigators, that d’Urville! He was the Frenchman’s Captain Cook. A man wise but unlucky! Braving the ice banks of the South Pole, the coral of Oceania, the cannibals of the Pacific, only to perish wretchedly in a train wreck! If that energetic man was able to think about his life in its last seconds, imagine what his final thoughts must have been!” As he spoke, Captain Nemo seemed deeply moved, an emotion I felt was to his credit. Then, chart in hand, we returned to the deeds of the French navigator: his voyages to circumnavigate the globe, his double attempt at the South Pole, which led to his discovery of the Adélie Coast and the Louis-Philippe Peninsula, finally his hydrographic surveys of the chief islands in Oceania. “What your d’Urville did on the surface of the sea,” Captain Nemo told me, “I’ve done in the ocean’s interior, but more easily, more completely than he. Constantly tossed about by hurricanes, the Zealous and the new Astrolabe couldn’t compare with the Nautilus, a quiet work room truly at rest in the midst of the waters!” “Even so, captain,” I said, “there is one major similarity between Dumont d’Urville’s sloops of war and the Nautilus.” “What’s that, sir?” “Like them, the Nautilus has run aground!”