Captain's Log; Date 1866: Upon surfacing aboard the Nautiloid, the newer sailors were adamant to find out what plans my crew and I had for the masses of 'treasures' we brought aboard. Talk of mansions and women and fine automobiles were quickly hushed once I led everyone to the Forward Ballasts, where we stocked cannon ammunition. Where are the cannonballs, the younger recruits asked. I could only tell them the truth: here on the Nautiloid we do not use cannonballs; that is for unrefined brutes. WE are far more elegant than anything or anyone you'll find up on land. How would you like a silver fork stuck in your eye shot at you at some hundred miles per hour? Or maybe a sharp-edged bauble, as small as any bullet, ejected from one of these cannons by the handfull? They say a penny dropped from a skyscraper can kill a person. What say you to a million gold coins? I tried to keep from laughing at the expressions on the sailors' faces. Naturally, they were not amused.