Michel Montecrossa - Tarana and the island of immortality

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 door shut and then I swang myself back on the upholstering of the seat.

Through the closing of the door the sphere had suddenly become quiet and the ocean appeared alien and uncanny in its silence. Since I did not want to bother Margaret right at the start with my fearful fantasies, I kept silent and pulled out my writing utensils and my notebook and arranged them on the small shelf.

“Now we can give the signal,” I said and turned to Margaret. She nodded decisively and muttered to my surprise:

“I’m damned curious, what awaits us down there, but I don’t like the ocean today.”

This time I didn’t say anything. I gave the signal to submerge.

Shortly thereafter one could hear a soft humming and the heavy diving sphere was lifted by the strong cable-winches and a small swing out to the right. Now we must be right over the ocean surface. One more jolt and we slowly sank into the water. As we entered the water, for a few seconds we were swung about in the waves which foamed on the viewing window. We were then surrounded by a magical blue-green light, and as we sank deeper we could see the surface of the water from below like wavering silver.

Directly in front of us one could only see a blue-green expanse without any distinct objects. I leaned forward somewhat and looked diagonally below. The general blue-green shaded into a darker area and as we sank slowly deeper, out of the general forms of these blue hued areas emerged the contours of an undersea landscape.

I had a look on the depth measuring instrument. We had submerged to about 25 m. I could now see below us the lightly hilly surface which descended to a valley on the left whose floor I could not see. Further back the valley seemed to be defined by a steep coral riff.

Professor Pickering had really found a good place for the diving expedition.

Margaret and I had overcome our initial queasiness and were now gripped by the magic of the blue-violet light that surrounded us.

The surface below us had to be a paradisical place of life for every possible ocean plant and animal and we looked out with excitement upon the approaching ocean landscape. Within the visibility of 100 m the surface showed itself in more and more detail. We could see overgrown rock formations which appeared to have all sorts of forms on our right side. This area seemed to me especially interesting and so I gave the signal to stop, to halt the descent, and to swing us slowly to the right.

Up to then Margaret and I had not spoken a word. I pointed to the rocky landscape:

“We are still in the photoic zone above the 100 m. Perhaps we can be swung over there into that area. Then we could sink between the rock formations and have a much closer look to the diverse sea-life there.”

She nodded silently.

In the meantime the swing manœuvre was completed und the diving sphere stood still once more. Directly below us was a depression between two rock formations. We looked carefully into the depths. Now the diving sphere stood still and we could see an incredible diversity of swarming fish or schools of fish through the viewing window as they swam by and as if obeying some silent command they changed suddenly their direction in a perfect unity. And then again they continued their beautiful gliding dance.

Through the sideways motion we were now on the edge of the seaweed forest whose leaves grew 70 m up into the sunlight. These seaweed plants were attached to the rocks with root-like plates on which leaves grew which were carried by gas bubbles.

I was intending to make a few drawings of this underwater forest. As I reached for my note-book, my view fell on the water below us, and there I saw a long blue-black shadow gliding out on its way in the seaweed thicket. Margaret had seen the movement as well and gripped my arm.

“What is it?”

We both tried in the half light to see what sort of being it was that had appeared. Finally I saw a form of a four meter long tiger-shark.

A chill ran down my spine for I had heard enough stories about this wolf of the seas and even written one for myself.

“It is a tiger-shark,” I answered Margaret.

At the same moment the shark turned as if it had heard me diagonally above and swam directly to our viewing window.

Margaret screamed as she saw the demonic looking animal approach.

The tiger shark glid over our diving sphere and we were able to have a close look at the horrid killing rows of teeth directly in front of the window.

The shark crossed the window two more times, we had quite a long time a look into the uncannily lively and death promising eyes and then the animal disappeared in the blue-violet darkness of the seaweed.