Tarana and the island of immortality. Michel Montecrossa

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      “In my days in the Boy Scouts I learned how to conduct such a drawing using matches, and I assume that Mr. McCormick will be happy to help us with his.”

      I had a pleasure indeed to tap a miserly Scot, though I knew of course that Lady Swine was a cigar smoker.

      Margaret suppressed a laughing fit and pushed me her elbow in the side. “The story with the Boy Scouts was not really proper, you unworldly writer, but the Scottish joke – that was directed.”

      These words she whispered quickly to me as she got up to bend with a choice ironic smile to the totally flabbergasted Mr. McCormick and to say so that everyone could hear it:

      “Your matches, please, Mr. McCormick.”

      This demand even a Scot could not deny and so we could start the drawing.

      I took a number of matches corresponding to the participants and made two of them shorter, for in the diving sphere there was only an off-space of two persons. Then I held the matches in my hands in such a way that they made a row, in which each match seemed of the same length and so each could pull one match. Who pulled out the two short pieces, had found his place in the diving sphere.

      And so in this way we had soon determined the order for the participation at the coming adventure.

      Naturally Professor Pickering and Captain Thunderbolt would perform the first expedition; they were followed by Lady Swine and Mademoiselle Blanc, Lord Downhill and Mr. Upperpretty, Lord Snowdown and Mr. McCormick, Mrs. McCormick and Mr. Bancroft, and then Margaret and myself, last but not least.

      I was really pleased, that fate had let us together, not knowing what was to arrive to us.

      The morning arrived in red glory and a few clouds on the horizon. The sea was not as quiet as expected, and yet the waves were acceptable enough so that Captain Thunderbolt and Professor Pickering after an extensive examination of the weather gave the command to bring the submarine in the place on the especially constructed crane in diving position.

      The ropes tightened slowly, while Professor Pickering explained the diving candidates once more what one needs to know about the technical aspect of the diving sphere.

      “Here on the top of the diving sphere there is a magnesium-lamp which should allow a visibility of ca. 100 m,” he explained.

      “Between the ropes is applied a command line and a fresh air provision cable. By means of the command line you can by simple code signals make commands, whether the diving sphere should rise or sink, be manœuvred to the left or right, forward or backwards. By the cable for fresh air supply you will receive constant fresh air. Before the comfortable bench you will find an oval, isolated viewing window. There is a possibility as well to look out of the diving sphere to the left and to the right through two little round windows. One should enter into the diving sphere by means of a door diagonally above the seats which can be screwed by a big wheel. An emergency equipment with medicaments, tools, food and emergency clothing would be found in the two sea chests behind the seats.”

      Professor Pickering stopped for a moment, and then added as he had often done before:

      “Naturally the emergency materials are on board merely as a matter of form in our totally safe diving sphere.”

      All the assembled had heard this introductory speech many times. But today we listened to his known words as if we heard them for the first time.

      At 10 a.m. all preparations were complete and Captain Thunderbolt entered with Professor Pickering the diving sphere. They carefully screwed the door shut. The diving sphere was then heaved by the imposing crane and slowly lowered into the water. Our hearts were beating like anything. What awaited the two pioneers? What happened to all of us in the course of the day?

      The Sargasso Sea was known to me through my geographical articles as a 8,5 millions sqkm portion of the open Atlantic Ocean. Its name derived from the Portuguese word, ”sargaco” that means “seaweed” or ”seagrass,” for located between the Azores, the Bermudas and the Westindian Islands, the Sargasso Sea is the central area of that circuit of the seaweed. I also knew that here was the spawning reproduction ground for eels.

      Since the surface temperature ranges between 20-25 ° Celsius, Professor Pickering could dispense with heating of the diving sphere against possible reduction of body temperature.

      Despite of the average depth of 3000 m the various areas of the Atlantic Ocean were very different in their actual depth. Professor Pickering therefore had provided for his diving sphere a maximum depth of 1500 m, and chose for our region for the expedition an area located on a long back of an enormous ocean shelf in less than 200 m depth. Here there should be rich possibilities to study diverse undersea landscapes, flora and fauna.

      The Mayflower II was at present above a hilly undersea landscape which had been plumbed on the previous day and which corresponded in the main extent to the imaginations of Professor Pickering.

      When I stood together with the others at the rail collecting my scientific facts to my mind, Professor Pickering and Captain Thunderbolt began to give the first signals, for the crane was moved into different directions. Sometimes the sphere remained in one position or was lowered down bit by bit.

      After a good hour the sign was given to reemerge and shortly thereafter the two somewhat dazed, but glowing heroes emerged from the seaweed-covered diving sphere.

      Accompanied by our enthusiastically questioning applause the two gave us an exciting report about the wonderful manoeuvrability of the diving sphere and the good visibility.

      And so all of us could take our turn in the journey into the deeps of the sea.

      Lady Swine emerged from her excursion in the wonder sphere with a strong “magnificent” and Mr. McCormick found everything “quite all right”. Yvette Blanc fell into the arms of her Lord with a squeaky “Mon chéri” and all the others were more or less speechlessly impressed.

      In the late afternoon the hour for Margaret and me had come.

      Captain Thunderbolt looked thoughtfully at the sky where the clouds had thickened in the course of the day. Nevertheless he judged the situation despite strong waves to be safe. Finally we were allowed to enter the sphere.

      I was the first one to climb in. The round interior room was upholstered with red velvet, as well as the seats before the viewing window. On the concave walls grips had been attached so that I could manœuvre myself over the wooden back of the seats and slide myself into the soft cushioning.

      Margaret followed, and so we sat for a moment and looked out over the ocean before us, which despite almost totally clouded skies seemed to glow with a strange light.

      We tested the air, lights and signal connection. Then we were ready to dive and Captain Thunderbolt leaned over the hatch still open and looked through:

      “You can now close the door from within and give the signal to dive. May God be with you.”

      He tipped his cap to us and was gone. I stood up once again on the wood cover above, under which were the emergency provisions, and heaved the iron door closed which fit perfectly to the round form of the diving sphere; using the large hand wheel. I screwed the СКАЧАТЬ