Abaco Gold

by Patrick Mansell

  Virgil and Skeeter descended to the ocean floor and headed straight to the area where the artifacts were secured. Skeeter pointed out the tarpaulin that held the artifacts and the heavy materials the dive teams had used to keep the cover from moving around in the currents. When Virgil nodded that he understood, Skeeter swam over to one of the coils of rope at the corner of the net and tied onto it a sturdy stainless steel clip. He then clipped it onto the small ring and proceeded to the next corner. He repeated this procedure at each of the coils of rope. He then attached the clip from the monofilament line onto the ring and buried the ring in the sand at the last corner of the net. After Skeeter disconnected the electric cord to the underwater light array, he gave Virgil the sign to return to the surface. The two men began a gradual ascent with Skeeter paying out the monofilament line all the way to the safety bar hanging from the barge.

  Twenty-two

  Blind Radar

  Gaffer found the mission he had been given most disagreeable. After Bonnie Pindar phoned Cameron to tell him that the new boat had arrived and described it as an Ocean Master with the name Miss Fit painted on its sides, the Defense Force officer thought up a plan to make the salvage operation less vulnerable to penetration. But the plan called for doing physical damage to the boat, and that was the part that Gaffer did not like. Never mind, P.J. would accompany Gaffer and Cameron on the expedition and he would gladly take care of the dirty work.

  While Skeeter worked on loosening the barge from its mooring in anticipation of towing it into the Sea of Abaco, Bimini Twist made its way north to Green Turtle Cay. When Bonnie Pindar called Cameron to tell him about the delivery of the Ocean Master, she described it as clearly as she could. From her spot at the bar overlooking the marina, she could see the boat tied up in its slip. Cameron asked her to describe all the antennae she could see on the boat so he could guess what kind of electronics it had. The most important thing she identified was the radar antenna. With that piece of equipment in working order, there was no way Conchy Lady could approach the boat, even under the cover of darkness, without being noticed. This was when Cameron got Max’s OK to take P.J. and Gaffer on this mission.

  For the past twenty four hours VHF channel sixty eight buzzed with misinformation. The messages between the barge, two boats and home base indicated that the wreck site was well secured throughout Tuesday and Wednesday and that there would be no one watching over it on Thursday night. It was already expected that the leading edge of the storm system would be upon them and the seas would be quite rough. Rough, but not too rough for an Ocean Master, and not too rough to dive. Conchy Lady would be laying out of view a mile from the site under cover of darkness. The problem was that she would not be invisible to radar.

  At mid morning Cameron dialed the number at the Sand Dollar Bar. Bonnie was waiting for his call and answered on the first ring. Cameron asked, “Have you seen our boys?” referring to Hammerhead Riley and Whale Mills.

  “They are walking this way as we speak,” she answered. “What would you like for me to do?”

  “We’ll be at the marina in less than a half hour. Can you get them out of there?”

  “Call me back when you approach the marina. I’ll see what I can do.”

  “We can’t come in there until they’re out of the way. They know this boat and I might add, they’ve had issues with it and probably have extreme animosity. I need to be certain they’re nowhere around when we get there.”

  It became clear to Cameron that the two men were approaching very close to the bar when Bonnie answered, “Yes, Dear, I’ll try. I love you, too,” and hung up.

  Hammerhead and Whale ordered their first drinks of the day, Bonnie tripled them up again, and the pirates carried them down to the marina. They boarded Miss Fit and started rummaging around, familiarizing themselves with all the switches and controls. Bonnie watched as Hammerhead started the engines and Whale began to untie the dock lines. It would not be a good thing for them to take off and meet up with Bimini Twist. Bonnie had to think fast.

  Just as they were about to clear the boat slip she called loudly to them. Whale heard her and turned around. He cupped his ear to hear her but could not make out what she was saying. He motioned to Hammerhead to pull back to neutral to quiet the engines. Bonnie came closer and called again. Whale again cupped his ear to hear. By now they were stopped, so Bonnie knew she could get them to turn back. She slowed to a walk as she approached the boat slip. “What is it?” called Whale.

  “You have a telephone call in the motel office. Somebody wants to talk to you and he’s mad. It’s a long distance call.”

  “Just great,” said Hammerhead. He began backing into the slip as Whale prepared to tie up again. They figured it was Grant Web calling. He was just about the last person either of them wanted to talk to.

  As Bonnie approached the bar, she heard the telephone ringing again. It was Cameron on the other end. “We’re five minutes away. Is it safe to come into the marina? Where are they now?”

  “I sent them away for a few minutes, but only a few minutes. You can come in now, they’re in the office and can’t see the marina from there. But you’d better hurry, they could be back any minute. I arranged for the dockmaster to reserve the slip next to their boat for you. Hurry!” She hung up without waiting for a reply.

  She immediately got back on the telephone and dialed the three digit extension for the main lobby of the motel. The receptionist, who was a close friend of Bonnie’s, answered the ring and enthusiastically greeted her friend, “Hello, Dear. How’s your day.”

  Bonnie, in dead seriousness, spoke quickly, “I can’t explain right now, listen. Are those two men in there? The two guys who got drunk in my bar yesterday.”

  The receptionist straightened up. She understood that something was amiss. “Yes, ma’am,” she said. “You are exactly correct. Will there be anything else?”

  “Exactly where are they right now?” asked Bonnie.

  “Yes ma’am,” said the receptionist. “Right here, right now.”

  “OK, listen carefully, this is very important. Those men are dangerous criminals.” “Oh, my,” said the receptionist. “Now what can I do to help, Dear?” By now Hammerhead was standing directly in front of the check-in counter, impatiently waiting for her to get off the phone.

  Bonnie replied, “Those men are there because I told them they had a long distance call and that someone was very angry at them. You need to stall them in the office there for a few minutes while the police check something out on their boat. Do you understand? Can you do that?”

  “Yes, Dearie. I understand completely. If I might call you back in a few minutes, I have customers I must attend to. I’ll call you right back. Good bye.” Then to Hammerhead she smile and asked, “May I help you, Sir?”

  In a mildly civil tone Hammerhead responded, “I’m Alex Riley and I heard you had a phone call for me. Where can I pick it up?”

  “Oh, Mr. Riley, yes. There was a call. It was a long distance call. A rather rude, angry gentlemen. He said he could wait no longer and that he would call back. You are to wait here.”

  Hammerhead blurted out a rude expletive and the receptionist gasped, feigning shock. “Sir, that kind of talk is unnecessary. Now if you’ll just calm down, I’m sure you will get your call soon and everything will be cleared up.”

  “Sorry,” mumbled Whale, “my friend is stressed. Don’t pay any attention to him.” Then to Hammerhead he said, “Cool your jets, Big Mouth. Sit here and I’ll go get us a couple of drinks.”

  The receptionist had to think fast as Whale turned to leave the reception area to head toward the bar. “Sir,” she said, stopping Whale from leaving. He turned. “Sir, your apology is accepted. Now if you would like, I will be glad to have your drinks delivered here.” Without awaiting a response she picked up her telephone and dialed the extension for the Sand Dollar. “Bonnie, if you’re not too busy, do you think you could bring these gentlemen a round of drinks. They have to wait here f
or a telephone call.”

  Bimini Twist backed into the slip along side Miss Fit. Gaffer laid his port side along side the starboard side of the other boat and shut down the engines. Cameron and P.J. quickly scurried onto the Ocean Master. P.J. carried a small tool set as he followed Cameron onto the hard top where the radar antenna was mounted. Quickly Cameron unscrewed the face plate on the antenna and called to Gaffer to throw over an empty soda can. He instructed P.J. to stand on the deck and stomp on the can until it was completely flat. P.J. did as instructed and tossed the remains up to where Cameron was working. Before the can would fit into the space between the face plate of the antenna and its operating electronics, it would have to be made narrower. Using his strong fingers Cameron doubled the crushed can over and had P.J. flatten it out again by stomping on it on the deck. Cameron next placed the flat piece of metal up against the radar’s receiver and screwed the face plate back onto the antenna. He and P.J. quickly scurried back onto Bimini Twist and Gaffer hit the ignitions. They got out of there as fast as was reasonably possible.

  As they sped away Cameron gave a wave to Bonnie. She waved back and picked up the phone to dial the receptionist. “The coast is clear, you can let those bums go now.”

  The receptionist stiffened as if she had just gotten a terse message. “Yes, Sir. I understand. Thank you and I’ll pass on your message. In fact, they’re sitting...” She looked at the telephone in her hand as if puzzled and then turned to Hammerhead and Whale. “Well, Gentlemen, that was your call but the very rude man said he did not need you and get back to work. My, my, that gentleman could use a lesson in manners.” She turned away and pretended to tend to the paperwork laying beneath the counter.

  Whale and Hammerhead were annoyed but did not express themselves. They just shook their heads and walked back out to the marina.

  As Conchy Lady chugged through Whale Cay Passage towing the huge barge, Bimini Twist sped back toward the wreck site. With the barge gone and Conchy Lady off station, there was no other security for the site. Three miles down sea from Green Turtle, Gaffer slowed down so he could hear his VHF. “Conchy Lady, Bimini Twist. Come in Conchy Lady.”

  Immediately he heard Skeeter’s voice, “Go ahead, Gaffer.”

  “I’m just checking in. We’re on our way to the wreck and will wait there for you to get back.”

  “Is everything OK?” asked Skeeter, actually meaning, “Were you able to blind the radar on the Ocean Master?”

  “Everything is fine, Skeet. When will we see you?” responded Gaffer.

  Skeeter’s response came back, “Quite a while, Gaff. We’re on our way in, another two hours to the anchorage, two or three hours to secure the barge, an hour back to the wreck site. You’re on your own for five hours, probably more. Can you amuse yourself for that long?”

  Gaffer responded, “There’s plenty to do over there. I’ll keep busy.”

  Skeeter smiled and replied, “Grouper Three?”

  “One, Two and Three,” came the response. “Ask my dad if he wants me to pick him up.”

  A minute later Skeeter responded, “He says he wants to stay here and help moor the barge. He’ll see you later.”

  “OK,” said Gaffer. “See you when you get here.”

  “Good luck, Gaff. Keep in touch and I’ll see you later.”

  “Later, Bimini Twist out.”

  Twenty-three

  The Box

  In order to be confident that everything that could be done to secure the barge was being done, Skeeter had decided to moor the barge in the exact same way it had been moored on the wreck site. When the barge originally came over from Palm Beach, it was supplied with four concrete cubes each measuring six feet on each side and weighing 5,000 pounds. These were sunk 200 feet away from each of the corners of the barge. Chains capable of holding in excess of 20,000 pounds were secured to each of the corners of the barge and then looped through iron rings that had been imbedded deep in the concrete. When the chains were pulled tight and secured with sturdy shackles and bolts, the barge was secure. There was only enough slack left in the chains to allow for the rise and fall of the tides.

  The past three hours had been exhausting for Skeeter. Earlier in the day he had winched up the concrete mooring cubes and placed them aboard the barge for transport to the protected water. That job was easy compared to the job of repositioning the cubes in the shallower water and securing the chains through their rings. Each chain had to be taken to the bottom, fortunately only twenty feet down, and swum or walked over to the rings on the cubes. Since Skeeter was the strongest diver and swimmer, the job was his to do. Max tried to help by carrying tools and help to stabilized the lifting bag for Skeeter, but the real work was in dragging the lifting bag which was holding a plastic basket containing 100 pounds of chain. This had to be done four times, once for each corner of the barge. Securing each corner was a half hour of hard diving in conditions of poor visibility. It was so difficult in fact, that on each twenty foot dive of only thirty minutes duration, Skeeter and Max each used nearly a whole tank of air. This was a consumption rate three times their normal. Each time they returned from securing one of the corners, they were panting like marathon runners at the finish line.

  By mid afternoon the four corners of the barge were secured to Skeeter’s satisfaction. While Skeeter and Max handled the job of securing the barge, Jenny, Godfrey and four Defense Force officers moved equipment from the barge to Conchy Lady. They reasoned that if they left nothing of value on the barge, they would not have to stand guard over it during the coming storm.

  Skeeter fired up Conchy Lady’s twin diesels while Max untied from the barge. It was obvious to everyone that Skeeter was exhausted, dangerously exhausted. Godfrey approached Max and Skeeter and suggested that they go into the small galley and find a way to get some rest, get out of the sun, have a bite to eat and rehydrate themselves. The suggestion was popular with the two men as they limped into the galley and allowed Jenny to serve them while Godfrey steered toward Whale Cay Passage.

  As Hammerhead idled out of the marina at Green Turtle Cay, he pushed the on button on his chart plotter and the digital display snapped into view. A map of all of Abaco and its out islands appeared in full color. When he hit the zoom button twice, the three mile area surrounding him appeared. He grinned at Whale, an idiot’s grin. He was unsophisticated in the use of marine electronics and treated them like a child’s video game. When he tired of playing with the pointer on the chart plotter he turned to the depth finder. This instrument was familiar to him. He turned it on and tuned a dial to auto. For his purposes, which was basically to avoid running aground in unknown waters, this setting would do. The auto pilot was sitting on the console tempting Hammerhead. He turned it on but there was no read out, so he had no idea what he had done. Immediately he turned it off. The largest screen on the console was the radar display. It had a lot of buttons and controls, but Hammerhead was somewhat familiar with radar and felt he could get it to work well enough to navigate with it. He turned the control switch to the on position and watched the video display turn bright orange. He tried to change the range setting to a twelve mile sweep but still only saw orange. The longer he kept the unit on, the more the electronics inside the antenna cooked. While Hammerhead and Whale fiddled with the radar controls, the computer chips and wiring inside the antenna began to smoke and melt. Twenty seconds later the screen went dead and the unit shut down. Hammerhead fiddled with the switches on the face of the radar unit for another minute and then gave up and turned the unit off.

  An hour later Godfrey announced to Skeeter and Max that he could see Bimini Twist on station on the wreck site. Max picked up the radio microphone and called Gaffer. His son was relieved to know that they would soon be there. “We’ve been on the water for ten hours, we’re whipped and P.J. is getting cranky,” he said.

  Max answered back, “We’re whipped, too. We’ll be there in less then an hour and then we’ll all be ready to leave. Tell P.J. to be patient, it w
on’t be long now. Out.”

  Gaffer turned to P.J. who had been seasick several times while Cameron and Gaffer fished. “You heard him, we’ll be out of here soon.”

  “Not to soon for me,” said P.J. “When you take me back to land I’m never going to go on a boat again. I just want to get out of here.”

  Cameron, who had heard all of P.J.’s complaining that he cared to, spoke up, “You complain too much, P.J. Stop being such a wimp. You always talk about how tough you are, but you’re not tough at all. Every time the littlest thing happens, instead of just letting it go, you always have to make sure everybody knows how much that bothers you. Grow up.”

  P.J. was shocked. He had been friends with Cameron for a long time, very good friends, and he could not believe what he was hearing. “Is that how you really feel?” he asked. “Do you think I am a wimp?”

  “You sort of are,” answered Cameron. “You complain too much. You need a lesson in life, how so many people have so little and never complain, and how you have so much and complain at the littlest thing. Most of the people from my hood where I grew up never have had a fraction of the things you have, not even close. They would give their right arm just to spend the day in a boat like Bimini Twist. You complain about it like it’s a burden. It’s a luxury, P.J. You should appreciate it.”

  “But I get sea sick,” protested P.J.

  “So you get sea sick,” said Cameron. “Lots of people get sea sick. So what? Toughen up.”