Music Welcome to Snewscast. The podcast is on to help you fall asleep. Find us at snoozecast.com and if you enjoy our show, please share us with a friend. This episode is brought to you by... An Aurora Borealis. Tonight, we'll read the next part to 20,000 Leagues under the sea. A classic science fiction adventure novel by French writer Jules Verne. In the last episode, the novelist cruises through the Persian Gulf towards the Red Sea. This confuses the three captives on board, because at the time this novel was written, the Red Sea was a dead end. The Suez Canal was only in the process of being built to connect the Red Sea with the Mediterranean Sea. After a couple days admiring the sea life in the Red Sea, Nimo visits Aeronax. We will pick up in the middle of their conversation, discussing things

like the history and navigational difficulties within the Red Sea.

Let's get cozy.

Close your eyes.

Relax your body into the softness of your bed.

Now, take a few deep breaths. Unfortunately, Captain Nemo said to Aranax, I cannot take you through the Suez Canal, you will be able to see the long jetty if port Saeed after tomorrow when we shall be in the Mediterranean. The Mediterranean, I exclaimed. Yes, sir. Does that astonish you? astonishes me is to think that we shall be there the day after tomorrow. Indeed. Yes, Captain, although by this time I ought to have accustomed myself to be surprised at nothing since I have been on board your boat. But the cause of this surprise? Well, it is the fearful speed you will have to put on the Nautilus if the day after tomorrow she is to be in the Mediterranean. made the round of Africa and doubled the Cape of Good Hope, who told you that she would make the round of Africa and double the Cape of Good Hope, sir? Well, unless the notallist sails on dry land and passes above the isthmus or beneath it, mesure heronax. Beneath it, certainly replied Captain Nemo. A long time ago, nature made under this tongue of land what man as this day made on its surface. What? Such a passage exists? Yes. A subterranean passage, which I have named the Arabian tunnel. It takes us beneath Suez

and opens into the Gulf. But this is composed of nothing but quick sands to a certain depth, but at 55, only there is a solid layer of rock. Did you discover this passage by chance? I asked, more and more surprised. Chance and reasoning, sir, and by reasoning even more than by chance. Not only does this passage exist, but I have profited it by it several times. Without that I should not have ventured this day into the impassable red sea. I noticed that in the red sea and in the Mediterranean there existed a certain number of fishes of a kind perfectly identical. Certain of the fact, I asked myself, was it possible that there was no communication between the two seas? If there was, the subterranean current must necessarily run from the red sea to the Mediterranean, from a sole cause of difference of level. I caught a large number of fishes in the neighborhood of Suez. I passed a copper ring through their tails and threw them back into the sea. Some months later, on the coast of Syria, I caught some of my fish ornamented with the ring. Thus, the communication between the two was proved. I then sought for it with my nautilus. I discovered it, mentured into it, and before long, sir, you too will have passed through my Arabian tunnel. Chapter five, the Arabian tunnel. That same evening, in 21 degrees, 30 minutes north latitude, the nautilus floated on the surface of the sea, approaching the Arabian coast. I saw the most important counting house of Egypt, Syria, Turkey, and India. I distinguished clearly enough its buildings. The vessels anchored.

At the... Syria, Turkey, and India. I distinguished clearly enough its buildings, the vessels anchored at the caves and those who strafed of water obliged them to anchor in the roads. The sun, rather low on the horizon, struck full on the houses of the town, bringing out their whiteness, outside, some wooden cabins, and some made of reeds, showed the quarter inhabited. Soon, the counting house was shut out from view by the shadows of the night, and the Nautilus found herself underwater, slightly phosphorescent. The next day, the 10th of February, we sighted several ships running to Windward. The Nautilus returned to its submarine navigation, But at noon, when her bearings were taken, the sea being deserted, she rose again to her waterline. Accompanied by Ned and Konsei, I seated myself on the platform. The coast on the eastern side looked like a mess, faintly printed upon a damp fog. We were leaning on the sides of the penace, talking of one thing and another, when Ned Land stretching out his hand toward a spot on the sea said. Do you see anything there, sir? No, Ned, I replied, but I have not your eyes, you know. Look well, said Ned. There, on the starboard beam, about the height of the lantern. Do you not see a mass which seems to move?" Certainly, said I, after close attention. I see something like a long black body on the top of the water. And certainly before long, the black object was not more than a mile from us. It looked like a great sandbank deposited in the open sea. It was a gigantic do-gong. And land looked eagerly. His eyes shone at the sight of the animal. His hand seemed ready to harpoon it. One would have thought he was awaiting the moment to throw himself into the sea and attack it in its element. At this instant, Captain Nemo appeared on the platform. He saw the doogong understood the Canadian's attitude and, addressing him, said, �If you held a harpoon just now, Masterland, would it not burn your hand? Just so, sir, and you would not be sorry to go back for one day to your trade of a fisherman and to add this citation to your growing list. I should not, sir. Well, you can try. Thank you, sir, said Nedland, his eyes slaming.

Only continued the captain, I advise you for your own sake, not to miss the creature. Is the Duke on a risky target? I asked, in spite of the Canadian shrug of the shoulders. Yes, replied the captain.

Sometime. in spite of the Canadian shrug of the shoulders. Yes, replied the captain. Sometimes the animal turns upon its assailants and overturns their boat. But for Masterland, this danger is not to be feared. His eye is prompt, his arm sure.

At this moment, seven men of the crew mute and immovable as ever, mounted the platform. One carried a harpoon and a line similar to those employed in catching whales. The penis was lifted from the bridge, pulled from its socket, and let down into the sea. Six oresmen took their seats. Ned, Konsei, and I went to the back of the boat. You're not coming, Captain? I asked. No, sir.

But I wish you good sport. The boat put off and lifted by the six rowers, drew rapidly towards the Dugong, which floated about two miles from the Nautilus. Arrived some cables' length from the cetacean, the speed slackened, and the ores dipped noiselessly into the quiet waters. Nendlian to Harpoon in hand stood in the four part of the boat. The Harpoon used for striking the whale is generally attached to a very long cord which runs out rapidly. But here the cord was not more than ten fathoms long, and the extremity was attached to a small barrel, which by floating was to show the course the Dugong took under the water. I stood and carefully watched the Canadian's adversary. This Dugong, which also bears the name of the halacore, closely resembles the manatee, its oblong body terminated in a length and tail and its lateral fins in perfect fingers. Its difference from the manor tea consisted in its upper jaw, which was armed with too long and pointed teeth which formed on each side diverging tusks. this do-gone, which we were following, was of colossal dimensions. It was more than seven yards long. It did not move, and seemed to be sleeping on the waves, which circumstance made it easier to capture. boat approached within six yards of the animal. The oars rested on the rollox. I half rose. Nedland, his body thrown a little back, brandished the harpoon in his experienced hand. Suddenly a hissing noise was heard and the doggone disappeared. The harpoon, although thrown with great force, had apparently only struck the water. Cursed, exclaimed the Canadian, I have missed. sailors rode on and the cockson made for the floating barrel. The do-go-on came now and then to the surface to breathe. The boat rode by strong arms flew on its track several times it approached within some few yards, and the Canadian was ready. But the Dugong made off with a sudden plunge, and it was impossible to reach. The Dugong came within 20 feet of the boat, stopped, sniffed the air briskly with its large nostrils, then taking a spring, he threw himself upon us. The penis could not avoid the shock, and half upset shipped at least two tons of water, which had to be emptied. But thanks to the cockson, we caught its sideways, not full front, so we were not quite overturned. The boat made straight for the Nautilus. The next day, 11th February, a flight of sea swallow was rested on the Nautilus. It was a species of the sterna melodica peculiar to Egypt. Its beak is black, head gray and pointed. the eye surrounded by white spots, the back, wings, and tail of a grayish color, the belly and throat white, and claws red. There were also dozens of nile ducks, a wild bird of high flavor. Its throat and upper part of the head, white, with black spots. About five o'clock in the evening, we sighted to the north, the cape of Rosmohamid. This cape forms the extremity of Arabia, Petrea, comprised between the Gulf of Suez and the Gulf of Acaba. The Nautilus penetrated into the straits of Jubal, which leads to the Gulf of Suez. I distinctly saw a high mountain towering between the two gulfs of Varras Muhammad. It was Mount Horeb that cyanide at the top of which Moses saw God face to face. At six o'clock, the Nautilus, sometimes floating, sometimes immersed, past some distance from tour, situated at the end of the bay, the waters of which seemed tinted with red, an observation already made by Captain Nemo. The night fell in the midst of a heavy silence, sometimes broken by the cries of the Pelican and other night birds, and the noise of the waves breaking upon the shore, chafing against the rocks, or the panting of some far-off steamer, beating the waters of the gulf with its noisy paddles.

From eight to nine o'clock, the nautilus remained some fathom under the water.

According to my calculation, we must have been very near Suez.

Through the panel of the saloon, I saw the bottom of the rocks brilliantly lit

up by our electric lamp. We seemed to be leaving the straits behind us more and more. At a quarter past nine, the vessel having returned it to the surface, I mounted the platform. Most impatient to pass through Captain Nemo's tunnel, I could not stay in one place, so came to breathe the fresh night air. Soon in the shadow I saw a pale light, half-discovered by the fog, shining about a mile from us. A floating lighthouse sets someone near me. I turned and saw the captain. It is the floating lighthouse of Suez, he continued, and will not be long before we gain the entrance of the tunnel. The entrance cannot be easy. No, sir. For that reason, I am accustomed to go into the Steersman's cage and myself direct our course. And now, if you will go down measure Aeronax, the Nautilus is going under the waves and will not return to the surface until we have passed through the Arabian tunnel. Captain Nemo led me toward the central staircase, halfway down he opened a door, traversed the upper deck and landed in the pilot's cage, which it may be remembered rose at the extremity of the platform. It was a cabin measuring six feet square, very much like that occupied by the pilot on the steamboats of the Mississippi, or. In the midst worked a wheel, placed vertically and caught to the tiller rope, which ran to the back of the nautilus. Four light ports with lenticular glasses let in a groove in the partition of the cabin, allowed the man at the wheel to see in all directions. This cabin was dark, but soon my eyes accustomed themselves to the obscurity, and I perceived the pilot a strong man with his hands resting on the spokes of the wheel. side the sea appeared vividly lit up by the lantern, which shed its rays from the back of the cabin to the other extremity of the platform. Now, said Captain Nemo, let us try to make our passage. The electric wires connected the pilot's cage with the machinery room, and from there the captain could communicate simultaneously to his not-alist direction and the speed. He pressed metal knob and at once the speed of the screw diminished. I looked in silence at the high straight wall we were running by at this moment. The immovable base of a massive sandy coast. We followed it thus for an hour, only some few yards off. Captain Nemo did not take his eye from the knob, suspended by its two concentric circles in the cabin. At a simple gesture, the pilot modified the course of the nodal as every instant. I had placed myself at the port scuttle and saw some magnificent substructures of coral, zoolophytes, seaweed, and fukus agitating their enormous claws, which stretched out from the fissures of the rock at a quarter past ten. The captain himself took the home. A large gallery.

Black and deep opened before us. The notalless went boldly into it. A strange roaring was heard round its sides. It was the waters of the Red Sea, which the incline of the tunnel precipitated violently towards the Mediterranean. The novelist went with the torrent, rapid as an arrow, in spite of the efforts of the machinery, which, in order to offer more effective resistance, beat the waves with reversed screw. On the walls of the narrow passage, I could see nothing but brilliant rays, straight lines, furrows of fire, traced by the great speed under the brilliant electric light. My heart beat fast. At 35 minutes past 10, Captain Nemo quit at the helm, and turning to me, said the Mediterranean. In less than 20 minutes, the Nautilus carried along by the torrent had passed, the nautilus rose to the surface. I hastened on to the platform. miles to the south of the dim outline of Palusium was to be seen. A torrent had carried us from one sea to another, about seven o'clock, Ned and Conce joined me. Well, Sir Naturalist said the Canadian in a slightly jovial tone. And the Mediterranean? We are floating on its surface friend's head. What, said Conce, this very night? Yes. This very night. In a few minutes, we have passed this impassable isthmus. I do not believe it. Rebleit the Canadian. The new or wrong masterland, I continued. low coast which rounds off to the south is the Egyptian coast. And you who have such good eyes, Ned, you can see the jetty of Port Said stretching into the sea. The Canadian looked attentively. We are in the Mediterranean. Good. Now, if you please let us talk of our own little affair, but so that no one hears us. I saw what the Canadian wanted, and in any case, I thought it better to let him talk as he wished it. So we all three went and sat down near the lantern. We were less exposed to the spray of the blades. Now, Ned, we listen. What have you to tell us? What I have to tell you is very simple. We are in Europe, and before Captain Nemo's caprices drag us once more to the bottom of the polar seas, or lead us into Oceana, I ask to leave the Nautilus. I wished in no way to shackle the liberty of my companions, but I certainly felt no desire to leave Captain Nemo. Thanks to him, and thanks to his apparatus, I was each day near the completion of my submarine studies, and I was rewriting my book of submarine depths and its very element. Should I ever again have such an opportunity of observing the wonders of the ocean? No. Certainly not. And I could not bring myself to the idea of abandoning the not-alice before the cycle of investigation was accomplished. Print net. Answer me, frankly. Are you tired of being on board? Are you sorry that destiny has thrown us into Captain Nemo's hands? The Canadian remains some moments without answering. Then crossing his arms, he said, Frankly, I do not regret this journey under the seas. I shall be glad to have made it. And now that it is made, let us have done with it. That is my idea. It will come to an end, Ned. Where and when? Where I do not know. When I cannot say or rather, I suppose it will end when these seas have nothing more to teach us.

Then what do you hope for?" demanded the Canadian. That circumstances may occur as well six months hence as now by which we may and ought to profit. Oh, said Netland, and where shall we be in six months if you please, sir naturalist? Perhaps in China? You know the notalless is a rapid traveler. It goes through water as swallows through the air, or as an express on the land. It does not fear frequented seas, who can say that it may not beat the coasts of France, England, or America, on which flight may be be attempted as advantageously as here. as your air nacks replied the Canadian, your arguments are rotten at the foundation. You speak in the future. We shall be there. We shall be here. I speak in the present.

We are here, and we must profit by it. That lands logic pressed me hard, and I felt myself beating on that ground. I knew not what argument would now tell in my favor.