Propeller Island

Home > Fiction > Propeller Island > Page 34
Propeller Island Page 34

by Jules Verne


  This accident consequently made matters worse. While Floating Island had two sets of engines, capable of acting together, it was only necessary for an understanding to be arrived at between the Tankerdon and Coverley parties for this state of things to be put an end to. The motors would then resume their customary task of working together, and the island, after its delay of a few days, could have resumed its course to Madeleine Bay.

  Now this was impossible, and Commodore Simcoe had not the propelling force necessary to enable him to leave his present position.

  If Floating Island had remained stationary during the last week, if the steamers came up it might still be possible to regain the northern hemisphere.

  But it was not, for an astronomic observation taken this day showed that Floating Island had drifted to the south during its prolonged gyration. It had drifted from the twelfth parallel to the seventeenth.

  In fact, between the New Hebrides group and the Fiji group there are certain currents, due to the proximity of the two archipelagoes to each other, which flow to the south-east. While the engines worked together Floating Island could easily make headway against the current. But as soon as it became afflicted with vertigo it had been irresistibly drawn towards the tropic of Capricorn.

  When this was recognized, Commodore Simcoe did not hide from those we have called neutrals the gravity of the circumstances.

  “We have drifted,” he said, “five degrees south. What a sailor can do with a steamer when her engines break down I cannot do with Floating Island. An island has no sails, and we are at the mercy of the currents. Where will they take us? I do not know. As to the steamers despatched from Madeleine Bay, they will seek us in vain in the place agreed upon, and it is towards the least frequented portion of the Pacific that we are drifting, at the rate of from eight to ten miles an hour.”

  In these few sentences Ethel Simcoe stated the position, which it was impossible to modify. Floating Island was like an immense wreck delivered over to the caprices of the currents. If they ran towards the north, it would go north; if they ran towards the south, it would go south— perhaps to the extreme limits of the Antarctic Ocean. And then—

  This state of things soon became known to the people at Milliard City, as at both harbours. A feeling of great fear arose. Hence—which was very human—a certain softening of asperities under the fear of this new peril. They no longer dreamt of coming to blows in a fratricidal strife, and if hatreds continued, they would not at least lead to violence. Gradually every one returned to his section, his quarter, his house. Jem Tankerdon and Nat Coverley gave up their dispute for first place. At the proposal of the two governors, the council of notables came to the only reasonable decision dictated by the circumstances, and transferred its powers to the hands of Commodore Simcoe, the only chief to whom the safety of Floating Island was henceforth entrusted.

  Ethel Simcoe accepted the task without hesitation. He reckoned on the devotion of his friends, his officers, his staff. But what could he do with this vast floating apparatus, with an area of twenty-seven square kilometres, become unmanageable, now that it had no longer its two sets of engines?

  And was there not some foundation for saying that this was the condemnation of Floating Island, up to then regarded as the masterpiece of marine construction, inasmuch as such accidents would render it the sport of the winds and waves?

  It is true that this accident was not due to the forces of nature, over which the Pearl of the Pacific had triumphed since its foundation. It was the fault of these intestine dissensions, these rivalries of the Milliardites, this unreasonable obstinacy of some to go south and others to go north. It was their immeasurable madness that had brought about the explosion of the Larboard boilers.

  But what was the good of recriminations? What was necessary was to inquire into the damages at Larboard Harbour. Commodore Simcoe assembled his officers and his engineers. The King of Malecarlie went with them. It was assuredly not this royal philosopher who was surprised at human passions bringing about such a catastrophe.

  The commission went to the Larboard engine works. The explosion of the over-driven boilers had caused the deaths of two engineers and six stokers. The ravages were no less complete in the workshops where the electricity was produced for the different services of this half of Floating Island. Fortunately, the starboard dynamos continued to work, and as Pinchinat observed, —

  “We have got off with the loss of one eye.”

  “That may be,” replied Frascolin, “but we have also lost a limb, and the one that is left is of little use to us.”

  To be blind and lame was too much.

  The result of the inquiry was that the damages could not be repaired, and that it would be impossible to arrest the movement towards the south. Hence the need of waiting until Floating Island got out of the current which was taking it below the tropic.

  This being ascertained, the next thing was to examine the state of the compartments of the hull. Had they not suffered from the gyratory movement which had so violently shaken them? Were the plates strained, the rivets started?

  If leaks had opened, what means were there of stopping them?

  The engineers proceeded to this second inquiry. Their reports, communicated to Commodore Simcoe, were anything but comforting. In many places the shaking had cracked the plates and broken the ties. Thousands of rivets had been started, and there had been a good deal of breakage. Certain compartments had already been invaded by the sea. But as the line of flotation had not been lowered, the strength of the hull had not been seriously affected, and the new proprietors of Floating Island had nothing to fear for their property. It was near the Stern Battery that the cracks were most numerous. At Larboard Harbour one of the piers had dropped off into the sea when the explosion occurred. But Starboard Harbour was all right, and its docks afforded every safety for vessels against the waves of the sea.

  Orders were given to repair all that was repairable. It was important that the population should be tranquillized. It was enough, it was too much, that without its larboard screws Floating Island could not make for the nearest land. For that there was no remedy.

  There remained the serious question of hunger and thirst. Would the reserves be sufficient for a month, for two months?

  These particulars were furnished to Commodore Simcoe.

  With regard to the water there was nothing to fear. One of the distilling apparatus had been destroyed by the explosion, but the other, which continued at work, could furnish all requirements.

  With regard to provisions, the state of affairs was not so promising. Taking everything into account, their duration would not exceed a fortnight, unless these ten thousand people were placed on short rations. The fruits and vegetables came, as we know, from the outside. And outside—where was that? Where was the nearest land, and how could it be reached?

  Then, whatever might be the effect, Commodore Simcoe had to make instant arrangements as to putting the people on rations. That evening the telephones and telautographs spread this melancholy news.

  Whereupon general dismay in Milliard City and the two ports, and a presentiment of worse catastrophes. Would not the spectre of famine, to adopt a familiar image, soon appear on the horizon, as there existed no means of replenishing the stock of provisions? In fact, Commodore Simcoe had not a single ship to send to the American continent. Fate had so willed it that the last had been sent away three weeks before with the mortal remains of Cyrus Bikerstaff and the defenders in the battle at Erromango. It was to be feared that matters of mere self-esteem would put Floating Island in a worse position than when it was invaded by the New Hebrideans.

  What is the use of possessing millions, of being as rich as Rothschilds, Mackays, Astors, Vanderbilts, Goulds, when no riches can keep away famine? Doubtless, these nabobs had the greater part of their fortunes safely placed in the banks of the new and old continents. But who knew if the day were not approaching when a million would not procure a pound of meat or a pound of bre
ad!

  After all, the fault was in their absurd dissensions, their stupid rivalries, their desire to seize upon power! The culprits were the Tankerdons and the Coverleys, who had caused all the trouble. Let them take care of reprisals, of the rage of the officers, and functionaries, and employees, and tradesmen, of the whole of the population they had brought into such danger! To what excesses might not these betake themselves when they were suffering the tortures of hunger.

  Let us say, that no reproaches were levelled against Walter Tankerdon nor Miss Coverley, who shared none of the blame deserved by their families. No! The young man and the girl were not responsible! They were the bond that might have assured the future of both sections, and it was not they who had broken it!

  For two days, owing to the state of the sky, no observation could be taken, and the position of Floating Island could not be ascertained with any certainty.

  On the 31st of March the zenith at dawn was clear enough, and the mists in the offing soon died away. There was reason to hope that an altitude could be taken under good conditions.

  The observation was awaited with feverish impatience. Many hundreds of the inhabitants went out to Prow Battery. Walter Tankerdon joined them. But neither his father, nor Nat Coverley, nor any of the notables, who could be justly accused of having brought about this state of affairs, left their houses, where they were kept indoors by public indignation.

  A little before noon the observers prepared to catch the solar disc at the instant of its culmination. Two sextants, one in the hands of the King of Malecarlie, the other in the hands of Commodore Simcoe, were directed towards the horizon.

  As soon as the altitude was taken, the calculations began, with the needful corrections, and the result gave 290 17’ latitude south. About two o’clock a second observation, made under the same favourable conditions, indicated 1790 32’ longitude east.

  And so, since Floating Island had been a prey to this gyratory folly, the currents had carried it about a thousand miles to the south-east.

  When the position was marked on the map, this was what appeared.

  The nearest islands—a hundred miles distant at least—were the Kermadecs, barren rocks, hardly inhabited, without resources; and, besides, how could they be reached? Three hundred miles to the south was New Zealand, and how could that be reached if the currents took them along the open sea? To the west, fifteen hundred miles, was Australia—to the east, several thousand miles, was South America, in the neighbourhood of Chili. Beyond New Zealand was the Antarctic Ocean. Was it there, on the lands of the Pole, that Floating Island was to be wrecked? Was it there that navigators would one day find a whole population dead of misery and hunger?

  Commodore Simcoe proceeded to study the currents of these seas with the greatest care. But what would happen if they did not change, if they did not meet opposing currents, if one of those formidable tempests broke out which are so frequent in the circumpolar regions?

  The news was well calculated to provoke alarm. Feeling rose higher and higher against the authors of the trouble —these mischievous nabobs of Milliard City, who were responsible for this state of affairs. It required all the influence of the King of Malecarlie, all the energy of Commodore Simcoe and Colonel Stewart, all the devotion of their officers, all their authority over the sailors and soldiers of the militia to prevent an insurrection.

  The day passed without change. All had to submit to be rationed, and to restrict themselves to the absolutely necessary as regards food—the wealthiest as well as those who were not so wealthy.

  Meanwhile a service of look-outs was carefully arranged, and the horizon strictly watched. If a ship appeared, they would signal it, and perhaps it would be possible to enter into communication with it. Unfortunately Floating Island had drifted out of the maritime routes, there being few vessels which traverse these regions bordering on the Antarctic Ocean. And beyond to the south, there arose before the affrighted imagination the spectre of the Pole lighted by the volcanic gleams of Erebus and Terror.

  A fortunate circumstance occurred in the night of the 3rd of April. The north wind, which had been violent for some hours, fell suddenly. A dead calm succeeded, and the breeze went suddenly round to the south-east, in one of those atmospheric caprices so frequent at the periods of the equinox.

  Commodore Simcoe began to hope. Floating Island need only be forced a hundred miles to the westward for the counter-current to take it near Australia or New Zealand. Anyhow, its progress towards the Polar Sea would be checked, and it was possible that ships might be met with in the vicinity of the large islands of Australasia.

  As the sun rose, the breeze freshened from the southeast. Floating Island was plainly enough affected by it. Its high buildings, the observatory, the town hall, the temple, the cathedral, offered a certain resistance to the wind. They acted as sails for this enormous vessel of four hundred and thirty-two million tons.

  Although the sky was swept by swift clouds, the solar disc appeared at intervals, and a good observation would probably be taken. In fact, on two occasions the sun was caught between the clouds, and the calculation showed that since the day before, Floating Island had mounted two degrees towards the north-west.

  It was difficult to admit that this was entirely due to the influence of the wind. The conclusion was that the Island had drifted into one of the eddies which divide the great currents of the Pacific; that it had had the good fortune to enter one that was taking it to the north-west, and that its chances of safety were considerable. But there must be no delay, for it was necessary to further reduce the rations. The reserves were diminishing at a rate which caused anxiety in the presence of ten thousand inhabitants to feed.

  When the last astronomical observation was communicated to the ports and the town it somewhat allayed the excitement. We know how suddenly a crowd will pass from one sentiment to another, from despair to hope. That is what happened. These people, very different to the miserable masses of the great continental cities, ought to be and were less subject to panic, more reflective, more patient. But with a threatened famine was not everything to be feared?

  During the morning the wind showed a tendency to freshen. The barometer fell slowly. The sea rose in long, powerful waves, proving that it was subject to great agitation in the south-east. Floating Island, hitherto impassible, was no longer insensible to these enormous disturbances of level. Some of the houses shook from top to bottom, and the things in them began to shift, as if there were an earthquake. The phenomenon was new to the Milliardites, and gave rise to considerable uneasiness.

  Commodore Simcoe and his staff remained constantly on duty at the observatory, where the whole administration was concentrated. The shocks began to affect the observatory, and the extreme seriousness of the matter was recognized.

  “It is too evident,” said the Commodore, “that Floating Island has been injured below. Its compartments have opened. Its hull has no longer the rigidity which rendered it so solid.”

  “It is to be hoped,” said the King of Malecarlie, “that it will not have to stand a violent storm, for it is no longer strong enough to resist it.”

  Yes! And now the people began to lose confidence in the artificial soil. They felt that their foothold was about to fail them. Better a hundred times be smashed on the rocks of the Antarctic lands. To fear every moment that Floating Island would open and be swallowed up in the depths of the Pacific, which had never yet been sounded, was enough to make the bravest hearts fail as they thought of it.

  It was impossible to doubt that fresh injuries had occurred in some of the compartments. Partitions had given way, and the rivets of the plates must have been torn out. In the park, along the Serpentine, on the surface of the outer streets of the town, there were strange undulations resulting in dislocations of the soil. Already some of the buildings had begun to lean, and if they fell, they would break in the substructure on which their foundation rested. That the sea had made its way into the subsoil was unmistakable, for the w
ater line had altered. Nearly all round, at the two ports as at the batteries, the line had sunk a foot, and if it sunk more the waves would come over the coast. Floating Island was in danger; its foundering was only a question of a few hours.

  Commodore Simcoe would have kept this quiet, for it would probably cause a panic and worse perhaps. To what excesses might not the people be led against those responsible for this disaster? They could not seek safety in flight like the passengers of a ship, throw themselves into boats, or construct a raft, as a crew does, in the hope of being saved from the sea. No! The raft was Floating Island itself; and it was going down.

  From hour to hour during the day Commodore Simcoe noted the changes in the water line. Floating Island continued to settle down. Hence infiltration must be taking place in the compartments, slow, but incessant and irresistible.

  At the same time the weather was getting worse. The sky was covered with red, coppery hues. The barometer was falling more quickly. The atmosphere had every sign of an approaching storm. Behind the accumulated vapours the horizon became so restricted that it seemed to be limited to the shore of Floating Island.

  As the evening came on, terrible gusts of wind arose. In the fury of the surge the compartments burst, the crossbars broke, the plates were torn away. Everywhere was a sound of the cracking of metal. The avenues of the town, the lawns of the park, threatened to gape open. As night approached, Milliard City was abandoned for the country, which, less laden with heavy buildings, seemed to be safer. The whole population lay scattered between the ports and the batteries.

  About nine o’clock a violent shock shook Floating Island to its foundations. The works at Starboard Harbour, which furnished the electric light, fell into the sea. The darkness was so profound that neither sky nor sea was visible.

  Immediately more quakings of the ground took place, and the houses began to fall as if they were built of cards. In a few hours nothing would be left of the superstructure of Floating Island.

 

‹ Prev