On February 1, 1831, the Englishman Biscoe discovered Enderby Land at latitude 68° 50', Adelaide Land at latitude 67° on February 5, 1832, and Graham Land at latitude 64° 45' on February 21.
In 1838 the Frenchman Dumont d'Urville stopped at the Ice Bank in latitude 62° 57', sighting the Louis–Philippe Peninsula; on January 21 two years later, at a new southerly position of 66° 30', he named the Adelie Coast and eight days later, the Clarie Coast at 64° 40'.
In 1838 the American Wilkes advanced as far as the 69th parallel on the 100th meridian.
In 1839 the Englishman Balleny discovered the Sabrina Coast at the edge of the polar circle.
Lastly, on January 12, 1842, with his ships, the Erebus and the Terror, the Englishman Sir James Clark Ross found Victoria Land in latitude 70° 56' and longitude 171° 7' east; on the 23rd of that same month, he reached the 74th parallel, a position denoting the Farthest South attained until then; on the 27th he lay at 76° 8'; on the 28th at 77° 32'; on February 2 at 78° 4'; and late in 1842 he returned to 71° but couldn't get beyond it.
Well now!
In 1868, on this 21st day of March, I myself, Captain Nemo, have reached the South Pole at 90°, and I hereby claim this entire part of the globe, equal to one–sixth of the known continents."
"In the name of which sovereign, Captain?"
"In my own name, sir!"
So saying, Captain Nemo unfurled a black flag bearing a gold
"N" on its quartered bunting.
Then, turning toward the orb of day, whose last rays were licking at the sea's horizon:
"Farewell, O sun!" he called.
"Disappear, O radiant orb!
Retire beneath this open sea, and let six months of night spread their shadows over my new domains!"
Chapter 15 Accident or Incident?
THE NEXT DAY, March 22, at six o'clock in the morning, preparations for departure began.
The last gleams of twilight were melting into night.
The cold was brisk.
The constellations were glittering with startling intensity.
The wonderful Southern Cross, polar star of the Antarctic regions, twinkled at its zenith.
The thermometer marked –12° centigrade, and a fresh breeze left a sharp nip in the air.
Ice floes were increasing over the open water.
The sea was starting to congeal everywhere.
Numerous blackish patches were spreading over its surface, announcing the imminent formation of fresh ice.
Obviously this southernmost basin froze over during its six–month winter and became utterly inaccessible.
What happened to the whales during this period?
No doubt they went beneath the Ice Bank to find more feasible seas.
As for seals and walruses, they were accustomed to living in the harshest climates and stayed on in these icy waterways.
These animals know by instinct how to gouge holes in the ice fields and keep them continually open; they go to these holes to breathe.
Once the birds have migrated northward to escape the cold, these marine mammals remain as sole lords of the polar continent.
Meanwhile the ballast tanks filled with water and the Nautilus sank slowly.
At a depth of 1,000 feet, it stopped.
Its propeller churned the waves and it headed due north at a speed of fifteen miles per hour.
Near the afternoon it was already cruising under the immense frozen carapace of the Ice Bank.
As a precaution, the panels in the lounge stayed closed, because the Nautilus's hull could run afoul of some submerged block of ice.
So I spent the day putting my notes into final form.
My mind was completely wrapped up in my memories of the pole.
We had reached that inaccessible spot without facing exhaustion or danger, as if our seagoing passenger carriage had glided there on railroad tracks.
And now we had actually started our return journey.
Did it still have comparable surprises in store for me?
I felt sure it did, so inexhaustible is this series of underwater wonders!
As it was, in the five and a half months since fate had brought us on board, we had cleared 14,000 leagues, and over this track longer than the earth's equator, so many fascinating or frightening incidents had beguiled our voyage: that hunting trip in the Crespo forests, our running aground in the Torres Strait, the coral cemetery, the pearl fisheries of Ceylon, the Arabic tunnel, the fires of Santorini, those millions in the Bay of Vigo, Atlantis, the South Pole!
During the night all these memories crossed over from one dream to the next, not giving my brain a moment's rest.
At three o'clock in the morning, I was awakened by a violent collision.
I sat up in bed, listening in the darkness, and then was suddenly hurled into the middle of my stateroom.
Apparently the Nautilus had gone aground, then heeled over sharply.
Leaning against the walls, I dragged myself down the gangways to the lounge, whose ceiling lights were on.
The furniture had been knocked over.
Fortunately the glass cases were solidly secured at the base and had stood fast.