Chapter 53 manuscript in bottle

Not a minute to live, There is nothing to hide. (Original in French.) —Kino: "Artis" (Kino (1635-1688), French dramatist. The above quotation is from his opera "Artis" written in 1674.) I have nothing to say about the country and the family.I was abused, forced to leave my country, estranged from my family after years of wandering.The ancestral family property provided me with an unusual education, coupled with my natural inclination to think, I was able to classify the knowledge that I had worked hard in my early years and accumulated in my heart.The doctrines of the German moralists especially delighted me, not because I had any fetish for their eloquence, but because I had the habit of serious reflection to see through their hypocrisy without difficulty.I have often been accused of want of talent, want of imagination has been a crime of mine, and skepticism in my opinions has always brought me into disrepute.The world has always believed that everything that happens is connected with metaphysical principles, even things that have no such connection at all.I am afraid, indeed, that I am so fond of metaphysics that I am intellectually influenced by the errors so common in this age.All in all, everyone, like me, tends to be superstitious about will-o'-the-wisps (the original text is Latin, translated as "castle in the air" or "delusion".), completely divorced from the facts.I think it's better to start with such a preface, so that the absurd story to be told below will not be taken as a cranky nonsense, but not as the actual experience of a person who has never believed in fantasy and will not imagine it.

I have traveled abroad for many years. In 18XX, I took a boat in Batavia Port (Batavia Port, now Jakarta.) in Java Island, which is rich in products and densely populated, and sailed to the Sunda Islands (Sunda Islands). His Islands, the main islands off the coast of Indonesia.) to the sea.I was a passenger on the ship, and I didn't have any plans in mind. I just went out when I felt terrified and restless as if possessed by a ghost. We took a beautiful sailing boat of about 400 tons, with a copper hull, which was built in Bombay and made of Malabar (Malabar, the southwestern coast of India.) Malabar wood.The ship was loaded with lint and oil from the Laccadive Islands (Lacdive Islands, in the Arabian Sea on the west coast of India.).It also carried coir, brown sugar, ghee, coconuts and two or three boxes of opium.The cargo was loaded sloppily, causing the ship to shake.

We sailed out on a light breeze, and had been sailing along the east coast of Java for many days, with only occasional small brigs coming in from our destination, the Sunda Islands, and nothing new at all. It can relieve the loneliness of the journey. One evening, leaning over the transom rail, I saw a very peculiar cloud isolated in the northwest corner.We left Batavia, and it was the first time we saw clouds, and they were so vividly colored that they were so noticeable.I had been watching intently, waiting for the sun to set, and the cloud suddenly spread to the east and west, forming a narrow haze across the sky, which looked like a long line of shallows.Immediately, the dark red moon and the strange seascape caught my attention.The seascape changes rapidly, and the sea water seems to be unusually transparent.Although the bottom of the sea could be clearly seen, unexpectedly he dropped the sounding hammer and realized that the ship was at a depth of fifteen fathoms.The weather was unbearably hot at this time, and there was a curl of summer air, just like the heat coming from the hot iron.As night fell, the wind gradually disappeared, and the wind and waves were so calm that it was hard to imagine how quiet it was.A candle was burning in the stern, but the flame could not be seen dancing at all, and a hair was twirled with fingers, and there was no fluttering.But the captain said that he could not see any ominous omens. As soon as our ship drifted to the shore, he ordered the sails to be furled and the anchor to be lowered, and no one was on duty to watch the night. Spread out on the deck and fell asleep.I went into the cabin—not without some premonition of impending doom.Seriously, seeing all this, I'm really worried about a heat storm.I told the captain what was on my mind, but he ignored me and left without even saying a word.However, I was restless and couldn't sleep, so I went out of the cabin around midnight.As soon as I stepped on the upper step of the stairs on the rear deck, I heard a loud buzzing sound, just like the sound of a waterwheel turning rapidly. I couldn't help being startled, and before I knew what was going on, I found that the hull of the ship was shaking.In the blink of an eye, the torrential white waves almost overturned the ship, washing the whole ship one after another, and the whole deck of the ship was submerged from head to stern.

This raging gust of wind probably turned out to be the savior of the ship.Although the hull was completely submerged in the water, the mast was broken and fell overboard. In a blink of an eye, the hull floated slowly from the sea with great difficulty. Under the incomparable power of the storm, it swayed for a while and finally settled down. By what miracle did I not die, I can't say it myself.I was knocked unconscious by the sea, and when I came to, I found myself stuck between the sternpost and the rudder.With an effort, I stood up, looked around dizzily, and suddenly remembered that our ship was caught in the whirlpool of the overwhelming and surging ocean in the rolling waves, and the whirlpool was terrible. , I can't imagine how terrible it is.After a while, I heard the voice of an old Swedish man who had boarded the ship with us when we left the port.I shouted to him as hard as I could, and he staggered to the stern at once.It was not long before we learned that only the two of us escaped the catastrophe.All the rest of the ship were swept overboard, and the captain and the first and second mates were drowned in their sleep, for the cabins were flooded with water.There was no one to help, and there was no hope of keeping the boat, and we were so paralyzed with fright that we thought every moment that the boat was going to sink.Needless to say, when the typhoon first broke, the anchor cable was snapped like a thread, otherwise the ship would have capsized all at once.Our ship seemed to fly before the waves, and the water washed the deck head-on without sweeping us away.The stern frame was shattered, and there was great damage nearly everywhere; but luckily the pumps were not out of order, and not much of the ballast had been thrown away, which was a pleasant surprise.The main force of the gale has passed. Although we know that the gale is not dangerous, we still hope that the storm will stop completely. We are sure that a dilapidated ship like this will be buried in the ensuing huge waves.Fortunately, this layer of well-founded fears does not appear to be a fact at all soon.It took us a lot of trouble to get a little bit of brown sugar from the nacelle, and for five days and nights, we just ate sugar to satisfy our hunger.During these five days, our wretched ship sailed along at an astonishing speed in gust after gust, not quite as violent as the first heat storm, but so violent as I had never seen before. storm.For the first four days there was no change in course, it was always south-southeast, and it must have been heading straight for the coast of New Holland.On the fifth day, the wind direction gradually changed and became more northerly, and the weather became extremely cold.The sun came out with a dim yellow light, climbed to the horizon, only a few points above-give a feeble light.There was not a single cloud in the sky, but the wind continued unabated, with intermittent and capricious howls.It was estimated that towards noon, we once again focused our full attention on the appearance of the sun.The sun can't emit light. The so-called real light is just a little dull flush, but there is no radiant heat, as if all the light has melted away.Before falling into the rolling sea, the fireball in the sun suddenly went out, as if it was blown out by some divine power hastily.There was only one hazy silver ring left, which plunged into the unfathomable ocean in an instant.

We waited and waited until the sixth day came--in my case, that day hadn't come, and in the case of the Swede, it hadn't come at all.Henceforth we were enveloped in total darkness, and could not see anything more than twenty paces from the boat.The long night continued to surround us, and the sea was dark even with the phosphorescence that had long been accustomed to in the tropics.We also saw that the storm continued to rage undiminished, but there was no longer a wave or a white-cap that always followed and followed.The surroundings were terrifying and gloomy, pitch black, and the waves were undulating.The more the Swedish old man thought about it, the more suspicious he became, and he was terrified to death, but I kept wondering.We left the ship, for it was as bad as it could be, and we clung desperately to the stump of the mizzen-mast, looking out in agony at a vast expanse of water, without being able to tell the time or guess where.However, we are clear-eyed and know that we are drifting to the south. In the past, no navigator has drifted farther than us. It is said that we will encounter ice obstacles along the way, but it is strange that we have not encountered them.At this time, every moment is fatal-every monstrous wave is coming menacingly, as if trying to drown us.The rolling waves are far better than anything else, and it's a miracle we didn't die at the bottom of the sea right away.After hearing from my partner that the cargo on the boat was not heavy, I remembered that this sailboat was of good quality; although I was holding out hope, I also felt hopeless, pessimistically preparing to die, and as the boat sailed forward mile by mile, the black and white The sea became more and more eerie, and I thought I would be dead within an hour.Now and then we were smothered and smothered by great waves - and now and then dizzy by being thrown so fast down the Crystal Palace, where the air was still and there was no sound to wake the Kraken ( According to the original text, the transliteration is "Kraken", which is said to be a monster that appeared in the Norwegian Sea.) A good dream.

As we were falling into such an abyss, we suddenly heard an impatient cry from our partner in the darkness. "Look! look!" he cried, in a piercing voice, "for God's sake! look! look!" he was saying, when I saw a blindingly bright red light flood around our great pit, and shoot upon the deck. The next flickering light.Looking up, I saw a scene that scared me out of my wits.I saw a huge three-masted ship, perhaps four thousand tons, moored on the edge of the sharply descending abyss in an unattainable place overhead.The ship, though standing on the crest of a wave a hundred times her height, looked far larger than any warship or merchant ship of the East India Company.The huge hull is pitch black, without the carvings on ordinary ships.A row of brass cannons protruded from the open gun ports. Numerous battle lights were hung on the cables, swinging back and forth, and the bright barrels of the guns were shining with fire.It is astonishing and frightening that this ship is full of sails in spite of the unusual sea and the unscrupulous typhoon.I could only see the bow of the ship at a glance, because the ship was slowly rising from the dark and gloomy deep vortex over there, stopped on the crest of the whirling vortex, condescending, and then swayed, staggered, and rushed down , I was frightened for a while.

At this time, I don't know why, but my heart suddenly calmed down.Desperately stumbling back to the back of the boat, bravely waiting for the impending catastrophe.Our boat finally stopped struggling and sank headfirst into the sea.The rushing forward of that gigantic thing hit the sunken keel of our ship, and the rush was so overwhelming that it threw me onto the ropes of the strange ship. No sooner had I fallen than the boat turned round and sailed away into the wind; and by the ensuing confusion I escaped the attention of the sailors.Without any trouble, I walked unnoticed to the half-closed middle hatch, and immediately took advantage of the opportunity to hide in the cabin.Why hide, even I can't tell.The first time I saw the sailors in this boat, I couldn't help but feel a faint fear, which may be the reason for my evasiveness.I had only glanced at these people, and many of their traits already made me faintly curious, suspicious, and uneasy, and I would not trust them.So I thought it would be better to try to find a place to hide in the cabin.I lifted the movable deck a little, just enough to hide between the huge keel.

As soon as it was opened, I heard footsteps coming from the cabin, and I quickly hid in.Someone walked past my hiding place with feeble, shaky steps. I couldn't see his face, but I took the opportunity to see a general appearance.It seems Mingming is very old and weak.Because of getting old, my legs are weak, and I can't support my feet anymore, so I tremble all over.He murmured intermittently a few words to himself in a way I could not understand, and groped in a corner among a heap of peculiar-looking instruments and musty nautical charts.His expression was a mixture of the irascibility of an old man in his late twenties and the solemnity of a god.He finally got out of the pod, and I never saw him again.

There was an indescribable feeling in my heart-a mood that cannot be analyzed. The lessons I have learned in the past years are not enough to analyze this mood, and I am afraid that I will not be able to analyze it in the future.It's really wrong for a brain like mine to think about the future.I'll never—I know I never will—believe in my own way of thinking.It is not surprising that these ideas are so vague, and the grounds for them are downright novel.There was a new feeling in me—something new again. It was a long time since I set foot on this dreadful three-masted ship, and it seemed to me that the whole fate was now in sight.What an incredible man!They walked past me and ignored them, just thinking about it, I really couldn't see what they were thinking.I'd be the utter fool of myself to hide like this, because these people wouldn't see.Just now I walked right in front of the first mate; not long ago, I boldly broke into the captain's cabin, took a pen, ink and paper, and used it to write this thing, and I have already written it.I will keep this diary down from moment to moment.Yes, I may not have the opportunity to transmit this diary to the world, but I must try to find a way.At the last moment, I will seal the manuscript in a bottle and throw it into the sea.

A little incident happened just now, and I took the opportunity to think again.I wonder if this is a coincidence?I had ventured out of the cabin earlier, and lay, unnoticed, among a pile of ladders and old sails at the bottom of the skiff.As he was thinking about his strange fate, he unknowingly picked up a tar brush and daubed it on a large bucket beside him and the side of the neatly folded wing sail.Now the wing sails are pulled on the ship, and the word "discovery" was accidentally painted on the tar brush... Not long ago, I observed the structure of this big ship.Although the ship is fully armed, it does not appear to be a warship.Seeing the rigging, construction and all the equipment on board, this guess is self-defeating.One can tell at a glance that this is not a warship, but it is hard to say what kind of ship it is.I carefully looked at the strange shape of the hull, the unique shape of the mast yard, the huge and useless sail, the simple and simple bow, and the antique stern. Always vaguely reminiscing about the past, inexplicably reminiscing about old foreign histories and things of the past... I kept looking at the keel.The wood used for this boat has never been seen before.Seeing the characteristics of this wood reminds people that it is not suitable for shipbuilding.I mean the wood is extremely loose, not to mention the insect damage that sailing over these oceans will inevitably lead to, not to mention the wood rots with age.This opinion is somewhat critical, but the wood appears to have all the characteristics of Spanish oak, if it has been swelled in any special way.

As I was reading the above sentence, I suddenly thought of a strange proverb of a weather-beaten old Dutch navigator.Whenever people suspected him of dishonesty, he used to say, "It's true that the hull of a ship will bubble up like a sailor's body in the sea."... About an hour ago, I ventured to plunge in Among a group of sailors.They ignored me, although I was standing in the middle of this group, and it seemed that they had no idea that I was there.They were all as gray-haired and old as the man I first saw in the cabin.All of them were so weak that their knees were shaking, their shoulders were so old that they were bent, their wrinkled skin rustled in the wind, their voices were low and trembling intermittently, their eyes glistened with the mucus of old people, and their white hair was as white as ever. Fluttering and flying in the storm.On the decks below them were strewn here and there a cartographic apparatus of quaint and old-fashioned construction. ...that wingsail I mentioned not long ago was pulled up.The ship had been sailing smoothly since that time, continuing on her dreadful course due south, with all sails drawn from the wooden crown above the masthead to the boom of the wing-sail below, and her topmast The yard-tips were at every moment caught in a sea as terrible as it could be.I had just left the deck, and though the sailor made no inconvenience, I could no longer stand on it.It seems that the huge hull of our ship did not die at the bottom of the sea. It seems that this is really the number one miracle in Tianzitou.We will never be buried in the abyss, and we are destined to continue wandering on the edge of death.The hull of the ship is as light as a seagull like a flowing arrow, gliding over unprecedented and dangerous waves; the vast ocean is like a water monster, holding its giant palm on top, but it is just to scare people, and dare not come to kill us.I can't help thinking that this escape from the tiger's mouth time and time again can only be explained by natural factors.It should be assumed that the ship was at the mercy of some strong current or violent submarine counter-current. ... I met him face to face in the captain's cabin, but, as expected, he ignored me.People who meet him occasionally don't think that his appearance is much different from ordinary people, but when I look at him, I can't help but feel a sense of awe, mixed with amazement.He was about my height; that is to say, about five foot eight.His body is strong and strong, neither thick nor thin.However, seeing the strange expression on his face—seeing the traces of old age so strongly, so frighteningly, so terrifyingly old, extremely old, I couldn’t help but feel an indescribable feeling in my heart — an indescribable feeling.Although there are not many wrinkles on his forehead, it seems to be engraved with the imprint of thousands of generations.Gray hair is a record of the past, dark gray eyes a prophecy of the future.The floor of the cabin was densely covered with strange iron clasp folio books, molded scientific instruments, and long-forgotten waste nautical charts.He held his head in his hands, stared angrily at a document, which I took to be an edict, in any case, had the emperor's jade seal on it.He murmured to himself--like the first sailor I saw in the cabin--muttering a few foreign words in a puffy low voice; It was as if it had been heard from outside the road. . . . The ship and everything on it smacks of antiquity.The sailors walked around quietly, like ghosts buried for thousands of years; there was a look of urgency in their eyes; I have had a strange feeling, even though I have been dealing with ancient people and antiquities all my life, and I have been haunting Baalbek (Baalbek, the ancient city of Syria, the center of worshiping the sun god Baal, where there are two ruins of the sun temple, which are famous monuments) , was reduced to a Roman colony in the time of Emperor Augustus.), Tetmo (Tetmo, an ancient city in the eastern desert of Syria, was destroyed in 273 AD, and is famous for its colonnaded streets, mausoleums, temples of the sun and other monuments .), Persepolis (Persepolis, the ancient Persian city, where King Daliu built his capital. It was destroyed by Alexander the Great before 330 A.D., and there is a hall with a hundred pillars in the monument. Near Lazi.) The shadows of those collapsed columns later turned me into an antique. ... I looked around and felt ashamed that I shouldn't have been so worried just now.If I tremble with fright at the sight of a whirlwind which is never far from me, how can I not be frightened out of my wits at the sight of the wind fighting with the sea?Even using words such as evil whirlwind and heat storm to describe this fierce battle is flat and inappropriate.Near the hull, everything is pitch black, you can't see your fingers, and there is chaotic sea water with no white waves; on the left and right sides of the hull, one nautical mile away, from time to time, you can faintly see ice walls standing in the desolate sky, looking Like the walls of the universe. …According to my guess, this ship is obviously sailing with a current—if this roaring and roaring tide under the impact of white ice, this thunderous, torrential, and southward tide can Call it a trend. ... It seems that the horror I felt was beyond imagination; but even in my despair, I was full of curiosity, anxious to see the secrets of this terrible region, and willing to see the most terrible death.Our ship is evidently in a hurry for thrilling insights—peeps at secrets that will never be known, and the result is destruction.Maybe this trend is taking us to the Antarctic.It has to be admitted that this assumption looks absurd, but it is entirely possible to be true. . . . The sailors paced up and down the deck with a trembling, restless step; but the expressions on their faces were not cold and hardened by discouragement, but impatience by hope. At this time, the wind was still blowing at the stern, and because the sails were full, the whole big ship was lifted out of the sea from time to time!Ah, the horrors are endless! —all of a sudden the ice on the right, all of a sudden on the left, made us dizzy, go round and round in monstrous concentric circles, round the circumference of the gigantic amphitheatre. Turning and turning endlessly, the top of the theater wall, in the dark, in the distance, could not be seen.But I have no time to take care of my own fate!The concentric circle shrunk—we were plunged headlong into the clutches of the whirlpool—and amidst the howling, howling, and roaring of the sea and the storm, the ship shook—Jesus!It turned out to be gradually sinking! (Author's original note - "Manuscript in a Bottle" was originally published in 1831, after many days, I came into contact with Mercator (1512-1594, mathematician and geographer in Flanders - translated The map drawn by author’s note). The map of Mai’s shows that the ocean pours into the Arctic Bay from four inlets, all pouring into the belly of the earth; the North Pole is marked by a black Optimus column towering into the sky.)