Around the World in 80 Days
IN WHICH THE MASTER OF THE "TANKADERE" RUNS GREAT RISK OF
LOSING A REWARD OF TWO HUNDRED POUNDS
This voyage of eight hundred miles was a perilous venture on a craft of twenty tons, and
at that season of the year. The Chinese seas are usually boisterous, subject to terrible
gales of wind, and especially during the equinoxes; and it was now early November.
It would clearly have been to the master's advantage to carry his passengers to
Yokohama, since he was paid a certain sum per day; but he would have been rash to
attempt such a voyage, and it was imprudent even to attempt to reach Shanghai. But John
Bunsby believed in the Tankadere, which rode on the waves like a seagull; and perhaps
he was not wrong.
Late in the day they passed through the capricious channels of Hong Kong, and the
Tankadere, impelled by favourable winds, conducted herself admirably.
"I do not need, pilot," said Phileas Fogg, when they got into the open sea, "to advise you
to use all possible speed."
"Trust me, your honour. We are carrying all the sail the wind will let us. The poles would
add nothing, and are only used when we are going into port."
"Its your trade, not mine, pilot, and I confide in you."
Phileas Fogg, with body erect and legs wide apart, standing like a sailor, gazed without
staggering at the swelling waters. The young woman, who was seated aft, was profoundly
affected as she looked out upon the ocean, darkening now with the twilight, on which she
had ventured in so frail a vessel. Above her head rustled the white sails, which seemed
like great white wings. The boat, carried forward by the wind, seemed to be flying in the
Night came. The moon was entering her first quarter, and her insufficient light would
soon die out in the mist on the horizon. Clouds were rising from the east, and already
overcast a part of the heavens.
The pilot had hung out his lights, which was very necessary in these seas crowded with
vessels bound landward; for collisions are not uncommon occurrences, and, at the speed
she was going, the least shock would shatter the gallant little craft.
Fix, seated in the bow, gave himself up to meditation. He kept apart from his fellow-
travellers, knowing Mr. Fogg's taciturn tastes; besides, he did not quite like to talk to the
man whose favours he had accepted. He was thinking, too, of the future. It seemed
certain that Fogg would not stop at Yokohama, but would at once take the boat for San