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Missing Presumed Lost

Page 5

by Fred Lockwood


  Will had the inflatable just making headway as they crept along the first leg of the grid. He had a hand-held GPS in his hand as he maintained his outward track. They came across a length of rope floating in the water. Jack gathered it almost absentmindedly and dropped it into the inflatable. They didn’t want that snagging the propeller and causing hassle! Jack and Sandro were sitting opposite each other and astride the bulging sides of the inflatable. Jack scanned the area to his left and Sandro crouched as he supported the observation tube in the water. It really was a simple but effective device. He gently swung it backwards and forwards as he surveyed the rocky seabed.

  It was almost at the end of their first sweep when they found it. They were within twenty metres of the rocky shoreline when Will had announced that he was going to reverse the search track. Both Jack and Sandro had turned towards him to acknowledge this. Sandro had just returned to his viewing and suddenly there it was! It took a second for the image to be recognised because it looked so normal. He shouted for Will to stop; they had found it.

  The Pharmaco was on her starboard side with her keel resting between rocks on the seabed. Sandro guessed the sailboat was in no more than fifteen to twenty metres of water. At this distance she looked very clean. The mast and port spreader looked intact and he couldn’t see any damage on the port side hull but the starboard spreader looked as though it was damaged.

  ‘Will, can you take a GPS fix? It will save time when we come back and we will need it to alert the owner and authorities,’ said Jack.

  ‘Guys, there’s going to be little or no current in here and I reckon we can check out the boat in a couple of hours. We may be able to catch the tide and get back to the dock this evening,’ volunteered Sandro.

  Jack had expected a long swim to dive on the sailboat but the skipper was happy to reset the anchor and have the stern only twenty or so metres from the sunken sailboat. With Kev helping it didn’t take long to have the three of them kitted up, checked and ready to go. Sandro would be taking all the photos, Jack providing the commentary that Kev would monitor and Will would act as safety. Jack was still surprised that Will had chosen bright pink neoprene for his wetsuit! Sandro stepped off the back of the boat and signalled AOK. Jack handed him the camera, complete with powerful lights, before stepping into the water to join him; Will brought up the rear. Together they dropped below the surface and began a slow descent towards the sailboat. Neither Jack nor Sandro were afraid of sharks but they were aware of the possibility of one or more bodies in the water. Sharks have amazing senses. They can pick up and zone in on the traces of death from kilometres away. However, the nature of the bay, and low tidal flow, may restrict them in this case.

  They gave Sandro a clear view of the boat so that he could take a couple of establishing shots. The three of them then congregated at the bow.

  ‘Kev, we’re about to start the survey of the hull. Please confirm AOK,’ asked Jack; Kev confirmed.

  ‘The anchor and chain are deployed and pointing due north,’ stated Jack. ‘Let’s have a look in the chain locker to see how much was out,’ he asked.

  Jack unclipped the small chain cover, opened it and shone a torch beam into the recess. It was difficult to estimate how much chain was left but guessed at least twenty metres. Sandro took a photo.

  ‘When we have finished we need to measure how much chain was out,’ he observed.

  With Jack and Sandro side by side, and Will behind and above them, they glided over the hull. There wasn’t a mark on the port side hull, nor the rails; it looked serene. Sandro clicked away taking more photos than he needed. Three fenders were still tied to the port rail and suspended vertically in the water. It seemed very odd. Jack continued the commentary.

  ‘The prop and rudder look fine and there’s no evidence of any damage. The rudder looks hard over to port, but that could have happened during the capsize. Let’s have a look at the keel.’

  Sandro took more photos.

  ‘I see nothing to snag on,’ announced Will. ‘The site looks remarkably clean and no sign of any predators,’ he added.

  As though they were synchronised swimmers Jack and Sandro gently kicked and curled down and around to the seabed. Jack began by looking at the point where the keel was attached to the hull.

  ‘There are a few recent scratches and scrapes on the keel but nothing significant. I’ve seen far worse on boats bobbing around in the marina,’ Jack observed. ‘No evidence of damage to the keel fixings but there’s a thin yellow strap wrapped around the keel. It could be a life line. We can check it out later,’ announced Jack as Sandro clicked away.

  Jack and Sandro finned towards the cockpit and the tangled web of lines floating in the water.

  ‘Sandro, I reckon we need a series of photos to show how the boat was set up before we start tidying up the lines. We are going to get snagged in this lot unless we’re careful,’ he added.

  ‘Sandro, take a look at this,’ said Jack as he pointed to the engine controls. ‘The key is still in the ignition and the engine was on when she went down. The throttle is in the full forward position… very strange,’ said Jack to no one in particular even though he knew it would all be recorded.

  Sandro braced himself by the wheel and took photos of the ignition key and throttle lever.

  ‘The boat was in good condition and full of fuel, we know that. Even in a massive storm the engine would be able to give them the control they needed to sit it out. So why did they founder?’ he asked. ‘Will, can you watch the rudder as I turn the wheel? Could the linkage be damaged?’ he asked.

  Will acknowledged and then finned away and hovered by the stern.

  ‘Jack, the rudder is moving to mid ships,’ Will announced. ‘You could go a little further before it hits a rock,’ he added. ‘Stop now and try turning it all the way back to port,’ he said.

  The wheel was easy to turn and there seemed to be no apparent damage to the mechanism.

  ‘Let’s check the deck and rigging before we look inside,’ Jack suggested.

  With Will hovering a couple of metres above them Jack and Sandro started to fin towards the bow. They checked the rigging and photographed as they slowly made their way for’ard. Perhaps they missed it because they were close to the deck and about level with the edge of the boat, focusing on the web of stays and lines still in place. A voice broke the silence.

  ‘Sandro, Jack… looks like a body trapped under the hull, about a metre ahead of you. I can see a bare leg,’ announced Will. ‘There’s also damage to the hull when she hit the rocks. I can see a hole the size of a football. It’s impossible to say if she sank because of the damage to the hull or was swamped if she broached in the storm.’

  The announcement sent a cold shiver over Jack. He knew there was every prospect of bodies in the water, but he had pushed the idea into the background.

  ‘Thanks, Will, well spotted,’ announced Jack. 'Let’s complete the inspection of the deck and we can return to the body.’

  It took only minutes to drift over the deck and check the stays, lines and rigging. Apart from the damaged starboard spreader, shrouds and a buckled rail, the sailboat looked intact and hardly damaged. It was with trepidation that they returned to the body trapped beneath the hull. Sandro dropped to the seabed. On elbows and knees amongst the rocks he steadied the camera and pointed it into the dark space below the hull. He clicked off several shots. Reluctantly he tilted the camera away from him, pressed the review button and looked at the screen. The image was cold and clear. The body of a man was trapped under the hull and a bare leg protruded. He guessed that the yellow safety line they had seen around the keel was attached to the man. Sandro was relieved to know that his job was to find the boat and crew, not to retrieve them. A few more photos and the three divers rendezvoused above the cockpit. It was Jack who summarised the survey to date.

  ‘I’d say they were dragging their anchor and were trying to stay near the middle of the bay or as close as they could to the windward shore du
ring the storm. The engine was on and rudder controls look OK. It wouldn’t have been easy but with the engine they could have maintained their position.'

  Jack paused as he looked at Sandro and then at Will before continuing.

  ‘The fore sail was fully furled and tied off. The boom vang has a bit of play in it but the storm could easily have caused that. It also looks as though they had a tiny amount of the main sail set. Perhaps they were trying to tack into the wind. But why do that if they had power? I’m beginning to think that they lost power for some reason. Without power it would be just a matter of time before they broached and in such a storm capsized. The fact that we have a body attached by a life line suggests that they were actively trying to save the boat.’

  ‘That would be my assessment as well,’ offered Will. ‘I agree,’ added Sandro.

  ‘So, let’s take a look inside. It may not be a pretty sight,’ Jack noted.

  Sandro braced himself in the cockpit and glided towards the open hatch. He felt cold in the wetsuit as he hovered to take a photo of the scene.

  ‘I’ll take a series of general shots of the inside before we start a search,’ Sandro explained. ‘I’m on my way inside now,’ he added.

  Sandro grabbed the side of the hatch, switched on his torch and gently pulled himself into the void. Jack was behind him and could see that the visibility was extremely poor. The torch didn’t illuminate the scene but rather created a white out as the light from the torch reflected off the grey mist inside the boat. Darker shades of grey suggested there was debris everywhere.

  ‘The viz is poor in here,’ said Sandro. ‘I’ll hood the torch and see if that makes it any better,’ he said as he ducked below the floating debris inside the cabin.

  Jack started to follow him, hooded his torch and tilted it upwards; it reflected on the mass of floating debris. When the boat had gone down, not all the air inside the cabin had been spilled. As a result there was floating debris everywhere. Jack bumped his helmet on something as he followed Sandro into the gloom, but it was a minor bump. He looked up to see clear plastic nineteen litre drums of drinking water jostling for position amongst floating seats similar to those they had spotted on the shore line. Above him there were cardboard cartons of food and bottles and even a floating shoe. The carton had contained milk and Jack reckoned that had contributed to the poor viz. Jack looked to his left and could see a coffee machine trying to float upwards. It was still plugged into the power socket but would never work again.

  By entering the submerged sailboat Sandro and Jack had displaced a quantity of water from the cabin; it simply vented through the hatch. As it did so a single item was flushed out. It was a sturdy aluminium briefcase. If Will hadn’t been positioned immediately outside the hatch and just above, he would never have caught it. A simple kick and he grabbed the handle and returned to his spot in the cockpit. With his free hand he uncoupled a short tether with a loop on one end and a heavy stainless steel clip on the other. He expertly slid the loop through the handle, doubled it back on itself and attached the clip to a slim spoke in the large steering wheel. It let the briefcase float upwards until it was restrained. It wasn’t going anywhere.

  ‘Jack, there’s another body in the companion way leading to the for’ard cabin. It’s a man. It looks like his life line is snagged,' said Sandro.

  Jack could hear Sandro’s heavy breathing as he took in the scene and steadied himself to take a series of photos.

  Chapter 7

  Recording the tragedy

  The man floated in the water, his arms and legs were spread and relaxed like a parachutist or diver. The hooded torch beam picked out the bright orange fabric of his life jacket as the narrow beam washed over him. Sandro had not wanted to look into the face of the dead man but couldn’t stop himself. It must have been a terrifying and awful death, but the face he saw in front of him was calm. His eyes were closed as though he were asleep.

  Sandro held onto the side of the table to steady himself in the gloom. With one hand he raised the camera and took a couple of establishing shots of the body, a couple just of the body and a third of the lifeline jammed under the cabin door. He paused to review the pictures in case he needed to take them again. He didn’t, they were what he needed.

  ‘It looks like he was in the for’ard cabin as the boat went down, dragging his lifeline, before it got caught,’ observed Sandro.

  ‘Why would he go below at such a critical time?’ asked Jack.

  ‘Jack, I’m going to pull myself along the companion way and into the for’ard cabin. There may be someone in there,’ he said.

  It was a bizarre sight. Common sense said that a bed should be horizontal not almost vertical! The shaped mattress was still jammed into its wooden frame but a pale sheet gently billowed like a tiny spinnaker. It blocked most of Sandro’s view of the interior of the cabin. He gently brushed it to one side so he could see behind it. Most of the air had escaped from the cabin and so there was only a small air space above Sandro’s head. He took a couple of general shots of the scene. It looked surprisingly neat. Only one of the overhead lockers was open and that was empty. All the other cupboards and lockers were closed. A pair of royal blue Crocs competed with a single dark sandal on the surface of the small air space. An item of clothing, maybe a pale bikini top, floated in the water in front of him. The cabin was empty. Sandro turned towards the cabin door and took another shot of the safety line jammed underneath it. It did look as though he had returned to the for’ard cabin but why?

  ‘Jack, I’m returning to the main cabin. I’ve taken all the photos we need to establish the scene,’ said Sandro.

  ‘I’ll back-off and give you space to take more general shots,’ replied Jack as he used his hands to paddle sideways.

  Inside the narrow confines of the boat it was a diver’s nightmare. In addition to the thick carpet of stuff floating above him, there were the remains of a paper chart. It hung, suspended in the water, directly in front of Jack and moved gently with the tiny eddies that he was creating. Jack gently waved his hand to push the chart to one side. As the chart curled away he looked directly into the face of a young, blonde haired woman!

  The adrenalin hit was instantaneous, the result startling.

  ‘Ugh!’ exclaimed Jack as he shot backwards and upwards bumping his helmet on cupboards near the sink and churning up the water around him by frantic kicking.

  His heart was pounding away in his chest as he struggled to relax, control his breathing and stop finning. He spoke to Sandro as calmly as he could under the circumstances.

  ‘Sorry, Sandro, suddenly seeing the body of a woman in the water freaked me out! I just wafted away a chart to give you a better shot and there she was. I’ve now stirred everything up and made the viz even worse.’

  ‘No problem,’ replied Sandro. ‘The viz is no worse… we just need a moment or two for things to stop moving.’

  Jack pointed the hooded torch at the floating body in front of him. It was slowly turning in a full circle as the eddies Jack had created moved it. She was wearing an orange life jacket, a dark T-shirt and pale knickers. Her arms and legs were bare and Jack could tell she had been slim and shapely when alive. In the gloom she seemed very pale and her head was set at an odd angle. Jack thought for a moment. Was this natural or had she been injured in the process of drowning? No doubt the medics would be able to tell at some time in the future. At least they had found three of the people missing.

  ‘Over to you, Sandro, I’ve seen all I want to see,’ mumbled Jack as he backed away.

  Sandro took several shots to establish that the young woman was floating freely in her life jacket. Whilst Sandro took the pictures Jack pointed his torch upwards and scanned the floating debris; the other woman was missing. He turned and pulled himself slowly through the water towards the rear starboard cabin. No sooner had he braced himself by the doorway and shone his torch inside, he saw her. This time there was no shock, merely sadness. The young woman was in another orange l
ife jacket and floating face up in the water. He could see her pale legs and arms lifeless in the water, her dark hair slowly billowing in the gently moving water.

  ‘Sandro, I’ve just found the second woman; she’s in the rear starboard cabin in a life jacket. I’ll back out so you can take a couple of pictures,’ said Jack into his microphone.

  Jack was relieved that they had found the boat and the people. He was also relieved that so far swimming scavengers hadn’t found them but realised it was merely a matter of time. He now wanted to wrap up the job as quickly as possible and inform the authorities. He called to Will.

  ‘Will, how are things looking outside?'

  ‘Clear, no action, everything looks calm,’ he replied.

  ‘Will, can you go back to the boat and collect a couple of safety lines from the equipment case? They are in the bottom section. The blue 1.8 metre ones will be fine, the ones with metal clips on each end. I can’t imagine the two bodies of the women floating out but I’d rather secure them inside the boat before we leave,’ Jack concluded.

  ‘I’m on my way,’ replied Will. ‘Still clear around the boat,’ he added.

  With an economy of action Will unclipped the briefcase and let it slowly pull him to the surface. As he ascended he wrapped the tether around his fingers, slipped the securing band over it and reclipped it onto his harness. It was good practice to have everything secure and it was an easy return to the boat. Will tossed the briefcase between the rails and onto the deck, his fins followed in quick succession. He unclipped one of his shoulder harnesses, rolled out of his kit and then clipped it to the chrome ladder that extended more than a metre under water. Within moments of surfacing Will was climbing up the ladder and back onto the boat. It had been calm when they arrived but there was a distinct swell and the boat was rocking slightly. He automatically picked up the briefcase and carried it to where the equipment cases had been placed. He made a small space and jammed the briefcase between them. It took only another minute or so to find the short, blue safety lines, put them in his jacket pocket and return to the water. It had probably been less than five minutes and Will was at the hatch handing over the lines. Jack steeled himself for the macabre job. In turn he clipped one end of the safety line to a life jacket and the other to a fixing inside the boat. The bodies of the two women were secure. They could be collected by the authorities. Will announced he would use the boat hook to estimate the length of chain that they had let out when anchoring. He would come back to the hatch so they could surface together.

 

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