Journey to the Center of the Earth (Barnes & Noble Classics Series) by Jules Verne
Authors: Jules Verne
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distant waves, and the Valkyrie skirted the coast of Elsinore. In my nervous state of mind, I expected to see the ghost of Hamlet wandering on the legendary castle terrace.
“Sublime madman!” I said, “no doubt you would approve of us! Perhaps you’d accompany us to the center of the globe, to find the solution for your eternal doubts!”
But nothing appeared on the ancient walls. The castle is, at any rate, much more recent than the heroic prince of Denmark. It now serves as a sumptuous lodge for the doorkeeper of the Sound’s straits, where fifteen thousand ships of all nations pass every year.
Kronberg Castle soon disappeared in the mist, as did the tower of Helsingborg, built on the Swedish coast, and the schooner leaned slightly under the breezes of the Kattegat. u
The Valkyrie was a fine sailboat, but you never know just what to expect from a ship under sail. She transported coal, household goods, earthenware, woolen clothing, and a cargo of wheat to Reykjavik. Five crewmen, all Danes, were enough to navigate her.
“How long will the passage take?” my uncle asked the captain.
“About ten days,” the captain replied, “if we don’t run into too much north-west wind around the Faroes.”
“But so you don’t expect to incur any considerable delay?”
“No, Mr. Lidenbrock, don’t worry, we’ll get there.”
Toward evening the schooner sailed around Cape Skagen at the northernmost point of Denmark, crossed the Skagerrak during the night, passed by the tip of Norway at Cape Lindesnes, v and entered the North Sea.
Two days later, we sighted the coast of Scotland near Peterhead, and the Valkyrie turned toward the Faroe Islands, passing between the Orkneys and the Shetlands.
Soon the schooner was hit by the waves of the Atlantic; it had to tack against the north wind, and reached the Faroes not without some difficulty. On the 8th, the captain sighted Mykines, the easternmost of these islands, w and from that moment he took a straight course toward Cape Portland on the southern coast of Iceland.
Nothing unusual occurred during the passage. I bore the troubles of the sea pretty well; my uncle, to his own intense disgust and his even greater shame, was sick all the way.
He was therefore unable to converse with Captain Bjarne about the Snaefells issue, the connections and means of transportation; he had to put off these explanations until his arrival, and spent all his time lying down in his cabin, whose wooden paneling creaked under the onslaught of the waves. But it must be said that he deserved his fate a little.
On the 11th we reached Cape Portland. The clear weather gave us a good view of Myrdals Jökull, which dominates it. The cape consists of a big hill with steep sides, planted on the beach all by itself.
The Valkyrie kept at a reasonable distance from the coast, sailing along it on a westerly course amidst great shoals of whales and sharks. Soon an enormous perforated rock appeared, through which the sea dashed furiously. The Westmann islets seemed to rise out of the ocean like a sprinkling of rocks on a liquid plain. From that moment on, the schooner swung out to sea and sailed at a good distance round Cape Reykjanes, which forms the western point of Iceland.
The rough sea prevented my uncle from coming on deck to admire these coasts, shattered and beaten by southwestern winds.
Forty-eight hours later, at the end of a storm that forced the schooner to flee with the sails down, we sighted the beacon of point Skagen x in the east, whose dangerous rocks extend into the sea under the surface. An Icelandic pilot came on board, and in three hours the Valkyrie dropped her anchor before Reykjavik, in Faxa Bay.
The professor emerged from his cabin at last, a bit pale, a bit downcast, but still full of enthusiasm, and with a look of satisfaction in his eyes.
The population of the town, intensely interested in the arrival of a vessel from which every one expected something, gathered on the
“Sublime madman!” I said, “no doubt you would approve of us! Perhaps you’d accompany us to the center of the globe, to find the solution for your eternal doubts!”
But nothing appeared on the ancient walls. The castle is, at any rate, much more recent than the heroic prince of Denmark. It now serves as a sumptuous lodge for the doorkeeper of the Sound’s straits, where fifteen thousand ships of all nations pass every year.
Kronberg Castle soon disappeared in the mist, as did the tower of Helsingborg, built on the Swedish coast, and the schooner leaned slightly under the breezes of the Kattegat. u
The Valkyrie was a fine sailboat, but you never know just what to expect from a ship under sail. She transported coal, household goods, earthenware, woolen clothing, and a cargo of wheat to Reykjavik. Five crewmen, all Danes, were enough to navigate her.
“How long will the passage take?” my uncle asked the captain.
“About ten days,” the captain replied, “if we don’t run into too much north-west wind around the Faroes.”
“But so you don’t expect to incur any considerable delay?”
“No, Mr. Lidenbrock, don’t worry, we’ll get there.”
Toward evening the schooner sailed around Cape Skagen at the northernmost point of Denmark, crossed the Skagerrak during the night, passed by the tip of Norway at Cape Lindesnes, v and entered the North Sea.
Two days later, we sighted the coast of Scotland near Peterhead, and the Valkyrie turned toward the Faroe Islands, passing between the Orkneys and the Shetlands.
Soon the schooner was hit by the waves of the Atlantic; it had to tack against the north wind, and reached the Faroes not without some difficulty. On the 8th, the captain sighted Mykines, the easternmost of these islands, w and from that moment he took a straight course toward Cape Portland on the southern coast of Iceland.
Nothing unusual occurred during the passage. I bore the troubles of the sea pretty well; my uncle, to his own intense disgust and his even greater shame, was sick all the way.
He was therefore unable to converse with Captain Bjarne about the Snaefells issue, the connections and means of transportation; he had to put off these explanations until his arrival, and spent all his time lying down in his cabin, whose wooden paneling creaked under the onslaught of the waves. But it must be said that he deserved his fate a little.
On the 11th we reached Cape Portland. The clear weather gave us a good view of Myrdals Jökull, which dominates it. The cape consists of a big hill with steep sides, planted on the beach all by itself.
The Valkyrie kept at a reasonable distance from the coast, sailing along it on a westerly course amidst great shoals of whales and sharks. Soon an enormous perforated rock appeared, through which the sea dashed furiously. The Westmann islets seemed to rise out of the ocean like a sprinkling of rocks on a liquid plain. From that moment on, the schooner swung out to sea and sailed at a good distance round Cape Reykjanes, which forms the western point of Iceland.
The rough sea prevented my uncle from coming on deck to admire these coasts, shattered and beaten by southwestern winds.
Forty-eight hours later, at the end of a storm that forced the schooner to flee with the sails down, we sighted the beacon of point Skagen x in the east, whose dangerous rocks extend into the sea under the surface. An Icelandic pilot came on board, and in three hours the Valkyrie dropped her anchor before Reykjavik, in Faxa Bay.
The professor emerged from his cabin at last, a bit pale, a bit downcast, but still full of enthusiasm, and with a look of satisfaction in his eyes.
The population of the town, intensely interested in the arrival of a vessel from which every one expected something, gathered on the
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