What with Monday’s “Next Stop: Tatooine?” story, I’ve been getting a lot of e-mail this week about “Star Tours.” Some JHM readers want to know more about what the proposed storyline for the next version of this Tomorrowland favorite. While still others want to know about the attraction’s alternate scenarios. As in: What other destinations did the Imagineers toy with sending the StarSpeeder 3000 to before they finally settled on Tatooine.
And — admittedly — those are all very interesting story ideas. Subjects that I may pursue in the weeks & months ahead here at JimHillMedia. But — to be honest — what really appeals to me are all the attraction concepts that WDI was knocking around before they finally settled on “Star Tours.”
And — no — I’m not talking about that lame Jedi training device version of this attraction. I’m talking about when the Imagineers first wanted to build a ride at Disneyland that made use of flight simulator technology: The “Captain Nemo Adventure” ride attraction that was supposed to be the centerpiece of Discovery Bay.
Now (for those of you who don’t know) Discovery Bay was this elaborate addition that was proposed for the Anaheim theme park back in the mid-to-late 1970s. And — according to the Imagineers’ preliminary plans — this new expansion area (Which was due to be built behind Big Thunder Mountain Railway, between Fantasyland and Frontierland) was supposed to be this fantasically detailed environment. A heady mix of Gold Rush era San Francisco and Vulcania.
“Why Vulcania?,” you ask. Because Discovery Bay’s “weenie” (I.E. The object that compells you to go deeper into that part of the park) was going to be a 200-foot-long recreation of the Nautilus. Captain Nemo’s sub from Walt Disney Productions’ 1954 release, “20,000 Leagues Under the Sea.”
Ah, but this ornately riveted submarine wasn’t just something for Disneyland visitors to look at and admire from afar. No, this over-sized vessel was actually supposed to be a desination in Discovery Bay. A place that people could enter & explore.
According to the Imagineers’ initial plans for this 200-foot version of the Nautilus, once you came onboard the boat, you had three exploring options. You could:
- Do the “Nautilus” walk-through. Which was to have been a hyper-detailed recreation of the popular Tomorrowland attraction from the 1950s & 1960s. You know, something similar to what Disneyland-Paris patrons got when that theme park opened its “Les Mysteres du Nautilus” walk-through back in 1994?
- Dine in the Grand Salon, this super-opulent restaurant where Disneyland guests could have eaten high-priced fare as they looked out at a lagoon full of colorful fish.
- Or they could head down to the ship’s laboratory area and take a trip on the “Captain Nemo Adventure” ride.
“And what — pray tell — was the ‘Captain Nemo Adventure’ ride supposed to be like?,” you asked. Well, to be honest, had this proposed Discovery Bay attraction actually been built, it would have been the first simulator ride to ever be installed at a Disney theme park.
Now I know that some of you will find it hard to believe that Walt Disney Imagineering was actually exploring the idea of using flight simulator technology in the company’s theme parks back in the 1970s. So here’s a quote from the late Randy Bright, the legendary Imagineer, that (I hope) will assuage you.
“We became aware of industrial flight simulators and their possible entertainment applications within the Disney parks when we were researching various technologies for EPCOT Center,” said Randy Bright, WED’s VP of Concept Development.
Okay. Now that we’ve established that WDI was actually actively toying with this idea, let me share a memo from October 12, 1976. Which describes in great detail what the “Captain Nemo Adventure” ride would have been like.
In the attraction’s pre-show area, an audio-animatronic version of James Mason would have welcomed Disneyland visitors to his laboratory, then pointed out various inventions around the room. Among the more fantasical devices was a brand new type of exploratory sub. One that was supposedly capable of diving to depth as yet never experienced by man.
Nemo then invites us to join him on a quick shakedown cruise for his new prototype submarine. Nothing all that dangerous, mind you. Just a quick jaunt out into Discovery Bay to view some of the outlying buildings of the Captain’s undersea complex. Maybe a brief glimpse of the blue Pacific, then back to base. You know. A perfectly safe 10 minute long cruise … Where nothing could ever possibly go wrong …
(Snicker, snicker, snicker …)
So we exit the pre-show area and quickly board one of the two prototype subs that are waiting. Each of these “vessels” can hold up to 150 guests and — just like the Nautilus — they are highly ornate.
The most prominent feature of this submarine are its four enormous windows. But — as we enter the theater … er … sub — those windows are still closed.
Over our heads is a gravity pointer trim indicator. Along the port and starboard walls are small Davis lamps, mounted on swivels, which remain continually on a level whichever way the ship we’re in may rock or tilt. On either sides of the viewports stand two enormous vertical glass cylinders reinforced with copper bands.
Suddenly Captain Nemo’s voice comes on a loudspeaker, telling the audience not to worry, everything is perfectly safe, etc. and that our craft is about to submerge, enter through an underwater gatelock, tour a little of the unknown depths of Discovery Bay, cruise along parts of the uncharted Pacific Ocean, then head for home again.
Engine bells clang into action and both glass columns suddenly begin to fill with water at terrific force. Then the viewport screens open slowly as the lights inside our cabin dim to a lower amber. Our eyes then adjust to the underwater scene set before us.
We are now traveling away from Nemo’s underground laboratory thru beautiful undersea gardens. As we look about the room the once level trim indicator overhead is now registering several degrees of incline, and the Davis lamps along the wall are no longer level, but all tilting at the same angle.
A flash of bubbles obscure the view as we descend to greater depths. We see Captain Nemo’s crew in diving suits, hunters and farmers gathering a harvest at the bottom of the sea. Further on we see more evidence of Nemo’s genius: huge undersea structures and machinery, capable of withstanding the great pressures, and the wear and tear of the forces of nature.
Now an alrm is heard. A surface craft is detected on a sensor device, circling overhead, and the order is given to investigate. As we ascend, the wtaer filled columns suddenly empty and we clear the surface of the ocean. On the horizon we see a 19th Century warship, featureless, unromantic in its design. “A ship that flies no flag,” as Captain Nemo remarks to the helmsman.
The warship begins to fire on us and Nemo orders our craft hurled toward it at “Collision Speed!” The water parts on either side of the view ports in great volume, almost obscuring our prey. Our subrmarine strikes the warship at full force, bending in its iron plates, splintering the entire vessel in half. We come about and start to submerge, and see the once might enemy ship sink below the ocean’s surface.
Then a great explosion is seen (and felt), our trim indicator swings crazily about, the curtains on either sides of the great viewports sway back and forth. The mate calls to the Captain from the command post that our submarine is temporarily out of control and sinking rapidly. The warm amber lights in our cabin flash out and immediately the blue emergency lights come on.
The scene beyond the viewports gets darker and we begin to see unusual fish, with living phosphorescent lights of their own.
“We are deeper now than man has ever been before,” the Captain explains. “Fortunately our craft was only in temporary danger and can now ascend to the surface.”
Another alarm sounds: A giant squid has appeared from the murky depth and grabs ahold of our submarine boat. Great blue sparks crackle about the monster’s tentacles and body as Captain Nemo prepares the full electrical repellant charge. This is not enough, the mate replies and our only hope is to get back to the surface quickly so that the rapid change in pressure will destroy the creature.
As our ship once again breaks the surface, a terrifying thunderstorm at sea is in progress. Thunder and lightning flash about the crashing waves and we see the body of the giant squid still hanging on. Suddenly an overhead hatch opens and the beast’s tentacles slither through, thrash about wildly for a few seconds, then retreat.
Even some water comes in, but not enough to drench the first and second rows.
The hatch closes, and our submarine heads back towards Discovery Bay.
We submerge, enter the undersea grotto, but our craft blindly grazes some of the rocky walls “due to our faulty rudder,” the Captain explains,”caused by the warship’s attack and the giants quid.”
As we dock, the viewport hatches close and “when the cabin lights come on (the announcer informs us), we are to take any small children with us by the hand and any personal belongings and please exit to the right.”
Doesn’t that sound like an amazing ride? So why didn’t the “Captain Nemo Adventure” get built?
Well, never mind about how — when “The Island of the Top of the World” bombed at the box office in December of 1974 — Disney execs pretty much lost all enthusiasm for building an ornate new land at Disneyland that celebrated writers like Jules Verne & H.G. Wells. What the Imagineers were trying to do with their proposed “Captain Nemo Adventure” would have been technically virtually impossible.
By that I mean: Re-read the above show description very carefully. WDI wanted each of these two “submarines” to hold 150 passengers at any one time. Now keep in mind that each StarSpeeder 3000 at “Star Tours” only carries 40 passengers at any one time. Yet here were the Imagineers trying to create an attraction built around a moving platform that would have had to (at every single show) carry almost 4 times that weight.
And we’re talking 1970s era technology here, folks. Which then would have had to be synchronized with moving in-theater props, outside projection screens as well as a few Audio-Animatronic tentacles that were supposed to burst in suddenly & flail around for a while.
It was just too much show for the time. Which was why — after development of Disneyland’s Discovery Bay area was eventually tabled in the late 1970s / early 1980s — the Imagineers kept revisiting this idea. Pulling out the proposed “Captain Nemo Adventure” attraction and hoping that now (finally) they had the technology to make this long dreamed-of show a reality.
Which was why WDI was constantly seeing if the “Nemo” attraction might make a nice addition to the Port Disney project that was proposed for Long Beach back in 1990 and/or the Tokyo DisneySea theme park that the Oriental Land Company eventually built & opened next to Tokyo Disneyland in September of 2001.
And — indeed — TDS does have its own “20,000 Leagues Under the Sea” ride. But that attraction (which is admittedly ornate and quite impressive) is actually a dark ride. Not a simulator.
Which is why — even though I’m excited that Disneyland is finally getting a “Nemo” ride (I.E. That “Finding Nemo: Let’s Party” attraction that’s currently under construction in Tomorrowland’s old Submarine Lagoon) — a part of me is still sad that the Imagineers never got the chance to build that first “Nemo” ride. The one where Captain Nemo himself took us out into the depths …
Anyway … That was the Imagineers’ first attempt at putting together a simulator-type attraction for the Disney theme parks. And — per your suggestions — in the weeks & months ahead, I will eventually tell you about all the “Star Wars” related ideas that WDI tried out before they finally settled on the “Star Tours” concept.
But — for now — I think I’ll be a little wistful about the big one that got away: Discovery Bay’s “Captain Nemo Adventure” simulator ride.
Your thoughts?