“We can do better than that,” said the King of Malecarlie. “The fragments of Starboard Harbour and the batteries can carry all the survivors of Floating Island. Fasten these three fragments together by strong chains, and tow them one behind the other as if they were barges. Then, with Starboard Harbour at the head, its five million horse-power can take us to New Zealand.”
The advice was excellent, it was practicable, it had every chance of success, now that Starboard Harbour possessed such enormous locomotive power. Confidence returned to the people as if they were already in sight of port.
The rest of the day was employed in the work necessitated by the fixing of the chains which were furnished by the stores of Starboard Harbour. Commodore Simcoe estimated that in this way a speed of from eight to ten miles a day could be obtained. In five days they would, if assisted by the current, accomplish the fifty miles which separated them from New Zealand. There was no doubt that the provisions would last until then. But to provide against delays, the rations were prudently maintained as before.
The preparations being complete, Starboard Harbour took the head of the procession about seven o’clock in the evening. Under the propulsion of its screws the two other fragments were slowly towed over the calm sea.
Next morning at daylight the look-outs had lost sight of the fragments left behind.
Nothing of importance occurred during the 4th, 5th, 6th, 7th, and 8th of April. The weather was favourable, the motion of the sea was hardly perceptible, and the voyage continued under excellent conditions.
About eight o’clock on the morning of the 9th of April, the land was sighted on the port bow—a high land that could be seen from a considerable distance.
Observations being taken with the instruments at Starboard Harbour, there was no doubt as to the identity of this land. It was the northern island of New Zealand.
A day and a night passed, and on the 10th of April, in the morning, Starboard Harbour ran aground about a cable length from the shore in Ravaraki Bay.
What satisfaction, what security the people experienced when they felt the real ground beneath their feet, and not the artificial soil of Floating Island. And yet how long might not this substantial maritime apparatus have lasted, if human passions, stronger than the winds and the sea, had not driven it to destruction.
The shipwrecked people were very hospitably received by the New Zealanders, who gave everybody food who required it.
As soon as they arrived at Auckland, the marriage of Walter Tankerdon with Di Coverley was at last celebrated with all the pomp the circumstances deserved. Let us add that the Quartette Party were heard for the last time at this ceremony, at which all the Milliardites were present. It would be a happy union—would it had taken place sooner, in the interest of all! Doubtless the young couple only possessed a poor million each—
“But,” as Pinchinat said, “there is every reason to believe that they will still find happiness with such a moderate fortune.”
The Tankerdons and Coverleys and other notables intended to return to America, where they would no longer dispute over the government of a Floating Island.
The same determination was come to by Commodore Simcoe, Colonel Stewart and their officers, the staff of the observatory, and even the superintendent, Calistus Munbar, who had not given up the idea of building a new artificial island.
The King and Queen of Malecarlie made no secret as to their regret for Floating Island, in which they had hoped to peacefully terminate their existence. Let us hope that these ex-sovereigns found a corner of the earth where they could spend their last days sheltered from political discussions.
And the Quartette Party?
Well, the Quartette Party, whatever Sebastien Zorn might say, had not done so badly, and if they bore any ill-will to Calistus Munbar for having taken them against their will, it would have been sheer ingratitude.
From the 25th of May the preceding year until the 10th of April a little more than eleven months had elapsed, during which our artistes had lived the luxurious life we know. They had received the fourth instalment of their salary, three instalments of which were deposited in the banks of San Francisco and New York, payable to them on demand.
After the marriage ceremony at Auckland, Sebastien Zorn, Yvernès, Frascolin, and Pinchinat went to take leave of their friends, not forgetting Athanase Dorémus. Then they embarked on a steamer bound for San Diego.
Arriving on the 3rd of May in this capital of Lower California, their first care was to apologize through the newspapers for having failed to keep their appointment eleven months before, and to express their sincere regret at what had happened.
“Gentlemen, we would have waited for you for twenty years!”
That was the reply they received from the amiable director of concerts at San Diego.
Nobody could have been more accommodating or more gracious. The only way to acknowledge such courtesy was to give this concert which had been announced for so long.
And before a public as numerous as enthusiastic, the quartette in F major, from Op. 9 of Mozart, was for these virtuosos escaped from the wreck of Floating Island one of the greatest successes of their artistic career.
Such is the end of the story of the ninth wonder of the world, this incomparable Pearl of the Pacific! All is well that ends well, as people say, but all is bad that ends badly, and was such the case with Floating Island?
Ended, no! It will be rebuilt some day—at least Calistus Munbar says so.
And yet—we cannot repeat it too often—to create an artificial island, an island that moves on the surface of the seas, is it not to overstep the limits assigned to human genius, and is it not forbidden to man, who disposes not of the winds or the waves, to so recklessly usurp the functions of the Creator?
THE END.
* * *
[i] Jules-Verne, Jean Jules I erne, Biography, translated and adapted by Roger Greaves, Macdonald and Jane’s, London, 1976; p 2.
[ii] Allotte de la Fuye, Marguerite Jules Verne, translated by Erik Do Manny, Stapes Press Ltd, London, 1954; p 39.
[iii] ibid; p 39.
[iv] ibid; pps 46-7.
[v] ibid; p 85.
[vi] ibid; p 51.
[vii] ibid; p 78.
[viii] ibid; p 94.
[ix] ibid; p 94.
[x] ibid; p 96.
[xi] ibid; p 98.
[xii]Chesneaux, Jean The Political and Social Ideas of Jules Verne, translated by Thomas Wikeley, Thames and Hudson, London, 1972; p 23.
[xiii] Allotte de la Fuye, ibid; p 97.
[xiv] Chesneaux, ibid; p 20.
[xv] Jules-Verne, ibid; p 225.
[xvi] sec Chesneaux, ibid; p 181.
[xvii] ibid; p 158.
[xviii] ibid; p 198, my italics.
[xix] ibid; p 208.
[xx] These positions are according to the French charts, the zero meridian of which passes through Paris—a meridian which was generally adopted at this period.
Jules Verne, Propeller Island
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