For those seeking total authenticity, the position of the Island may also cause problems, quite apart from the surprising amount of snow and ice at 35° S. Even today, there are many Pacific islands and reefs whose existence is in doubt. Verne deliberately plays with the frontier between fact and fiction, but a further complication is in his calculation of longitude. In MI, the settlers use the Greenwich meridian (I, 14), but the narrator uses the Paris meridian, at least for Norfolk Island, which he places at longitude “165° 42′ E” (III, 2) whereas it is 168° 3′ from Greenwich. The difference between the Greenwich and Paris meridians is 2° 20′, or about 140 miles at this latitude.
Smith places the Mysterious Island at “34° 57′ S” and “150° 30′ W” (II, 9)—which is the site of persistent but unconfirmed reports of authentic land. Krauth reports that an “Ernest-Legouvé Reef” is situated at 35° 12′ S, 150° 40′ W, which is very close.21 Although absent from the 1859 Admiralty Chart, the reef was recorded in “Paris notice to mariners 164/1122/1902,” and the International Hydrographic Bureau stated on 9 February 1957: “Ernest-Legouvé Reef was reported in 1902 by the captain of the French ship the Ernest-Legouvé. The reef was about 100 meters long and another reef was sighted near it.”
Tabor is similarly elusive. Although MI surprisingly omits the idea, Captain Grant’s Children claims that Ayrton’s home has more than one name: “Maria Theresa on British and German maps, but Tabor on French ones” (III, 21).22 In reality, its existence and even French name are doubtful. Verne admits that it is “low … scarcely emerging from the waves … If an eruption produced it, can one not fear that an eruption might carry it away?” (III, 20). In Captain Grant’s Children Verne gives its coordinates as “37° 11′ S, 153° W” (III, 21); the Paris meridian is normally used by the narrator in this novel, for instance for Tristan da Cunha (II, 2) or in the maps (I, 20 and III, 2). Smith also states that Tabor is at “37° 11′ S, 153° W” (II, 9), but using the Greenwich meridian this time. Clearly Verne and Smith can not both be right.
Tabor/Maria Theresa’s existence was reported in three contemporary newspapers as a dangerous reef seen at 37° S, 151° 13′ W on 16 November 1843 by a Captain Asaph P. Tabor, of the Maria Theresa, a whaler from New Bedford, Massachusetts.23 According to Krauth (32), who makes, however, several mistakes, the logbook of the Maria Theresa may read “Saw breakers.” Krauth further claims that Tabor (and therefore presumably the Mysterious Island) would be in French waters if they existed. Perhaps borrowing from Captain Tabor’s account, a Don Miller achieved great fame in the US in the 1960s by claiming to be broadcasting from a radio station on “Maria Theresa Reef,” south of Tahiti, and even published a photograph of himself “On the Rock’s [sic].” However, Miller subsequently spent a decade in prison for fraud-related cases. Hugh Cassidy, discussing his escapades (WWW), claims that “A nautical chart … issued by the W. Faden Company, Oceanographers to the King [George III], in 1817 lists Maria Theresa”; the shoal also apparently appears in US Hydrographic Office chart no. 2683 (1978), together with others in the vicinity; and a minority of charts continue to indicate its existence. But unfortunately, Cassidy and Krauth’s information as to the date of the first naming can not both be true, and in any case little direct proof has ever been produced. A government scientist, Henry Stommel, sardonically points out in his book, Lost Islands (1984), that if Tabor did exist, it would be an independent country, and so would have immense financial worth. He seems to be correct in both his view of national limits and his skepticism about the island’s existence.
To sum up a complex situation, Verne positions Tabor 153° W of both Paris and Greenwich, whereas in real life it would be about 151° or 153° W of Greenwich. Smith seems to be wrong in his calculation of Tabor’s position, possibly by as much as four degrees. Since the Mysterious Island is positioned with reference to Tabor, this in turn means that the position of the Island can not reliably be determined.
Given that the real-life Ernest Legouvé (1807–1903) was a friend of Verne’s who promised to help satisfy his cherished ambition of joining the Académie française,24 there may be a hidden connection somewhere. If Legouvé and Theresa reefs had a common origin, based on the misreading of a meridian, then Tabor and Lincoln would also be one and the same island. Certainly, amongst all the reports and inventions, Verne seems to lose or gain two degrees so often as to appear beyond mere carelessness. Just as the missing day of Around the World emerges in the most surprising places, so the Mystery of the Island is a wide-ranging one.
While all of Verne’s novels, with their huge density of real-world information, have naturally generated considerable discussion of their mistakes and inconsistencies, MI seems more vulnerable than most. In the surprising absence of authoritative texts of the works, the following paragraphs will continue the attempt to indicate the implausibilities in MI.
Sometimes the narrator actively misleads the reader. One example is when Smith explores the shaft and erroneously concludes that it had not been “used as a staircase either recently or in the past” (II, 11).25 Other problems must be due to poor copy-editing. “Ten thousand francs” (I, 1) should logically be Unionist or Confederate currency. Prisoners of war were not usually “left at liberty” (I, 2—as shown also in the illustration). Smith is recorded as being “in all the battles of the Civil War” but simultaneously and implausibly “entrusted … with the management of the railroads” (I, 2). Given that the distance from Richmond to the Mysterious Island is about 6,850 miles and that the balloonists travel for 91 hours, their average speed is a remarkable 75 mph. It is strange that Harbert does not accompany Spilett and Neb in their search for Smith when he is feared dead, and does not even look very actively himself (I, 4). It is surprising that the settlers do not celebrate Christmas (the reason presumably being that France did not either). Verne refers to “the winter of 1866–67” (II, 11), but in the southern hemisphere it should simply be “the winter of 1866.” The narrator mentions “Flotsam Point” in Part I (I, 21), although the colonists only give it this name later (II, 2). When Smith first explores the shaft he takes “a revolver” (II, 11), but its origin is mysterious since no such weapon is listed in the contents of the chest (II, 2). The narrator refers in 1866 to “the thirty-seven stars representing the thirty-seven states of the Union” (II, 11), whereas the thirty-seventh star was added only in 1867. Throughout the book, the settlers work incredibly quickly: only five days to unload the Speedy, transport four huge cannons a considerable distance, recover the chains and anchors, and remove the copper plating from the hull; a few months to construct the first vessel, 110 feet long; and a matter of days to build a hydraulic lift. It also seems implausible that the six settlers and the dog are unharmed by the explosion of the Island; that they manage to save the chest and provisions when the Island is crumbling beneath their feet; and even that the Duncan arrives just as they are dying.
More seriously, the central theme of the novel, Nemo’s actions, seems highly suspect, for many of the final explanations (III, 16) of “The Secret of the Island” do not make sense. Although only Smith’s footprints are found outside the excavation (I, 10), Nemo is meant to have rescued him from the water and taken him there. When “Top [is] thrown … by some unknown force … ten