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The Blog of Axel Lidenbrock : August 20th 1863

From: Harry Hayfield <harryhayfield~at~googlemail.com>
Date: Wed, 20 Aug 2008 22:23:54 +0100
To: "Jules Verne Forum" <jvf~at~gilead.org.il>

BlankAfter the events of the day before yesterday, is it any suprise that I
decided to leave my blog unentered yesterday but today there was more than
enough reasons to make an entry. It all started off at about midday when I
heard a loud and continous roar. My uncle suggested it was the sea breaking
on nearby rock but thanks to Hans scrambling up the mast (and may I say I've
seen lumberjacks in my time and I think Hans would beat them all hands down)
he couldn't see any breakers at all. Which posed the question what could be
making such a racket? Three hours later and the roaring was still there. It
reminded me of a waterfall, and I have to admit I really walked into this
one as my uncle confirmed my suggestion and all of a sudden I imagined us
all falling off a huge abyss. Me and my big mouth!

An hour after that Hans scrambled up the mast again and this time saw
something. A jet of water some at least 100ft tall. My natural assumption
was to think "Marvellous, another sea monster", but as we got closer that
inital suggestion was quite wrong. The column seemed to be now 500ft tall
and turned out to be nothing more sinister than a geyser (as we had seen
loads of in Iceland). As we approach nearer the dimensions of the liquid
column become
magnificent. The islet resembles, with a most deceiving likeness, an
enormous cetacean, whose head dominates the waves at a height of twenty
yards. The geyser, a word meaning 'fury,' rises majestically from its
extremity. Deep and heavy explosions are heard from time to time, when the
enormous jet, ossessed with more furious violence, shakes its plumy crest,
and springs with a bound till it reaches the lowest stratum of the clouds.
It stands alone. No steam vents, no hot springs surround it, and all the
volcanic power of the region is concentrated here. Sparks of electric fire
mingle with the dazzling
sheaf of lighted fluid, every drop of which refracts the prismatic colours.

We managed to find a nearby bit of land and using a little caution took the
temperature of the water. Or at least tried to as before I even got to the
centre of the column of water, the temperature was reading 325°F and our
instruments only go up to 350°F. All of which seemed to out my uncle's
theories into the oven, but he didn't see too upset (and to show how unupset
he was, he named the island after me!). But we soon realised that this was
nothing more than a diversion and so set off back to cross this huge body of
water, but I did note this on our way. By my reckoning we are some 1,446km
from Port Grauben and some 3,450km from Iceland (which at a rough guess puts
us underneath England).

Received on Thu 21 Aug 2008 - 00:24:02 IDT

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