Gaffer was smiling. He was glad to have P.J. hearing this from Cameron. Gaffer himself said these things all the time but P.J. would not listen. P.J. stopped talking and began brooding. It started with his feelings being hurt and that turned to mild anger. When he drank the last of his coke he angrily tossed the can overboard. Cameron stood up and went over to where P.J. was sitting. “That’s exactly the type of thing I’m talking about. That behavior is unacceptable. Now go get that can.” With that he reached down and lifted P.J. from under his arms and swung him overboard. When P.J. returned to the surface splashing and sputtering, Cameron was standing there to keep him from boarding. “When that coke can is back on board this boat, you may come aboard, not before.”
“The can sank,” protested P.J. “It’s fifty feet down on the bottom.”
“Can you free dive to fifty feet?” asked Cameron. “I can.”
“No, I can’t free dive to fifty feet. I can’t free dive to ten feet.”
“Then I’ll prepare a scuba outfit for you to dive to fifty feet, because you are not coming aboard this boat without that can.”
It took only a minute for Cameron to assemble a scuba outfit while Gaffer handed P.J. his fins. Gaffer leaned over and quietly, out of earshot of Cameron said, “I think he means business. If you want to get back into this boat, you better go find that can. I’ve never seen Cameron act this way. Just go get the can and keep your mouth shut.”
P.J. said nothing. He struggled into the flotation vest and then put on a web belt with fourteen pounds of lead. Once his air was turned on and he felt stable in the water, he placed his mask over his face, deflated his buoyancy compensator and sank to the ocean floor. He swam around the M 24 grid at a height of fifteen feet off the bottom. He knew that the can must be in either that grid or somewhere between it and the K 4 grid. For ease of identifying the various localities in which artifacts were found, Jenny had designed the grids to be only five feet square. The distance P.J. had to cover was not that great so he descended another ten feet.
Twelve minutes into the dive P.J. caught sight of what he had been looking for in grid K 12. As he swooped down and knelt on the sandy bottom to pick up the can, the foot with which he was bracing himself slipped out from under him. He regained his balance by kicking his fins and waving his arms. In so doing he stirred up a cloud of sand that nearly obliterated his vision. When he finally righted himself and found his balance, he leaned over to pick up the can. As he reached down, his eye caught sight of what looked like the corner of a piece of planking he had never seen before. The disturbing of the sand had exposed an new artifact that had never before been recorded. P.J. moved in for a closer look.
He brushed more sand away and then began digging around the board with his dive knife. As he moved more and more sand away from the exposed timber, he discovered that this was not an ordinary plank. This was a corner of something where two pieces of wood joined together. P.J. checked his air gauge, 2,000 pounds, that’s good. He dug farther with his knife and exposed six more inches of the corner of the joint. Another board came up to join the other two. P.J. immediately saw what was happening. This was the point where three boards came together. It was the corner of a compartment or a box. He continued to dig until an area eighteen inches across and twelve inches deep was exposed. It was a box!
The fragile wooden structure fell away easily under the pressure of P.J.’s sturdy dive knife. In no more than a few seconds there was an opening large enough to reach in with his hand. Jenny would go crazy if she could see the carelessness with which P.J. attacked the artifact. The box itself was an artifact. What was in it could be important or could be of secondary interest. In any event, Jenny would have wanted to approach the object with the utmost of care.
But P.J. was not thinking about what Jenny would want. His mind did not work that way. He used his dive knife to tear away six more inches of the top of the box. As he looked in, his greatest hopes and expectations were realized. He reached in and pulled out a golden brick two inches high, four inches wide and twelve inches long. His heart was beating rapidly and he had to work hard to keep air coming into his lungs. The sheer excitement of this find, his rapid heartbeat and five atmospheres of pressure on his body were overwhelming. He stopped all activity and concentrated on getting air into his lungs. After five deep breaths he started to feel better, although his heart would not stop racing. He checked his air gauge, 800 pounds. This dive had been long enough and successful enough. It was time to prepare to surface. He reached into the damaged box and pulled out another gold bar. He looked into the box and saw that there were many such bars within his view, and presumably many more that he could not see. He placed a gold bar in each of the pockets of the buoyancy compensator and began his controlled ascent to the surface.
Gaffer backed the boat to where P.J. was treading water. As he came within ten feet of P.J.’s position, he shut down the engines to allow P.J. to climb the dive ladder. Cameron stood at the transom looking sternly at him. He then took his weight belt and then fins. P.J. wriggled out of his BC and tank and handed it up to Cameron. When that was done, P.J. performed a backward somersault and swam fifty feet away from the boat. He then turned back and swam as fast as he could to the dive ladder. As he ascended the ladder, Cameron was standing there waiting for his return. “Feel better?”
P.J. appeared pensive and quiet on the outside, while being overwhelmingly excited on the inside. He thought about Cameron’s question for few seconds and then smiled. “Actually, yes I do. I think that little exercise was good for me.”
“You were gone a long time,” said Cameron. “Trouble finding the can?”
“No,” responded P.J. “I found the can, but I forgot to bring it back up. I got distracted.”
Cameron was about to lose his temper when P.J. added, “Check my B.C. pockets. You’ll understand why.”
Cameron looked quizzically at P.J. and slowly reached down for the B.C. He opened the velcro flap on the pocket and a gold bar fell out crashing onto the deck and leaving a chip in the fiberglass surface. Gaffer winced at the noise and fretted over the potential damage, until he saw what had fallen. Cameron’s expression was pure shock. Neither he nor Gaffer could say a word. P.J. took the BC from Cameron and removed the gold bar from the other pocket. Cameron could hardly catch his breath.
The two bars were rubbed clean and placed upon the leaning post for examination. Now there was no shortage of questions. How did you find it? Where were they? Are there more? On and on.
P.J. went into the long version of what had happened. He explained about slipping on the bottom and exposing what he thought was a beam, his adventure in digging deeper to find that it was a box, and his subsequent destruction of the end of the box to remove the contents. Everyone agreed that Jenny was going to kill him when she found out what he had done.
Cameron extended his hand for P.J. to shake, which he did. “OK?” Cameron asked.
“Cool,” responded P.J. “A nice little attitude adjustment, wouldn’t you say?”
“I’d say,” said Cameron smiling. The mood on board Bimini Twist was decidedly upbeat.
By the time the scuba equipment was rinsed off and stowed, Conchy Lady was approaching at idle speed. Skeeter was back on the helm and Max was on the bow unlocking the anchor chain. Godfrey put on a pair of fins and a mask. He was to enter the water and pinpoint the wreck. They did not want to drop the anchor and have it land on or drag across the wreck. The wind and current would move the boat in a generally northerly direction, so the anchor would be dropped to the north of the wreck. Then when the wind came, it would move the boat away from the wreck and away from any danger of doing damage.
It only took Godfrey a couple of minutes to identify the wreck site. In the open ocean the visibility was very good and Godfrey could see it after free diving to only ten feet below the surface. He called over to Max when he spotted the wreck and Max relayed the information back to Skeeter. Immediately as Godfrey boarded the boat,
Skeeter engaged the transmission and moved 200 feet past the wreck. He placed the gears back into neutral and nodded to Max, who in turn released the anchor lock and allowed the anchor to drop to the bottom. Skeeter counted out 300 feet of line and motioned to Max to tie it off.
The light breeze soon moved Conchy Lady around to its final mooring position. Skeeter marked the location on his GPS to keep track of how far the anchor dragged during the night. There was little chance that it would move appreciably, but the extra measure of caution would do no harm. Once Conchy Lady was settled on its mooring, Gaffer brought Bimini Twist up to its rear and tossed a line to his father to tie off. When the two boats were settled, Gaffer, P.J. and Cameron crossed over to share the news.
After a solid half hour of questioning P.J., examining the gold bars and considering the consequences of how P.J. had handled the situation, it was time to return to the pressing problem. Skeeter had been arguing that he wanted to stay on board his boat over night to help guard the wreck site. Max reasoned that Skeeter had exhausted himself this day and would certainly be needed tomorrow night when they expected to catch Hammerhead and Whale. But Skeeter would not take no for an answer. It was decided that he, Jenny and three Defense Force officers would man Conchy Lady for the night. Each person would sit a two hour watch, keeping an eye on the radar and another on the GPS. If the boat moved or somebody tried to intrude on its space, they would know. If another boat came within five miles of the site, the call would go out to guards on Great Guana, who would pile aboard Bimini Twist and return to join the others.
Cameron sat on the leaning post with Gaffer and Max for the ride home. The conversation turned to P.J.’s discovery of what might be the mother lode. That cheered up the weary men as they headed for port.
Jenny had a mixed reaction to P.J.’s discovery. She sternly admonished him for the destruction he had caused to one of the artifacts, the box from which he had extracted the two gold bars. And then she gave him a hug for discovering what no one else had been able to find in all this time. Her admonishment had been real but the discovery was overwhelming. On a day that had been otherwise marked by sea sickness and a bad argument with Cameron, P.J. had made himself a star.
Twenty-four
Tonight’s the Night
The third hurricane of the season was named Chico. Sustained winds of eighty-two miles per hour surrounded the eye which had formed over Turks and Caicos Islands. Feeder bands of rain and tropical storm winds were sweeping the Exuma Islands and reached all the way north to the island of Eleuthera. It was raining cats and dogs in Chub Cay and Nassau. The system was traveling at twenty miles per hour to the northeast. Storms traveling at that rate of speed rarely intensified, but even minimal hurricanes could inflict great damage and harm to the islands and their people.
It was a beautiful morning when Skeeter woke up at anchor on the wreck site. He got up and moved around slowly until his body got used to being awake. He was not as young as he used to be and the activities of the day before left him stiff this morning. In the galley Jenny had coffee brewing on the burner and was scraping together cereal and toast for herself, Skeeter and the guards. Skeeter turned on the radar scanner and weather radio. The radar showed a clear image of Great Guana Cay, Whale Cay and all the way over to Treasure Cay. There was no boat traffic on the screen. The people in the area were doing what people in the area always do when there is a strong weather system coming, they were battening down for the blow. The weather channel predicted that the Abaco Islands might not get a direct hit but would certainly be skirted by the storm. Skeeter thought it might be useful to send some confusion Hammerhead’s way. He keyed the mike to raise home base on the radio.
“Home base, Conchy Lady. Come in home base.”
Monitoring their handheld VHF radio from their perch at the Sand Dollar Bar, Hammerhead and Whale were instantly alert. Every transmission they heard today would be important for the job they had planned this night.
Within a half minute Susan Pincus was on the radio. “Hi, Honey. How was your night?”
“Uneventful,” said Skeeter. “Just the way I like it. We’re going to stay here all day and keep an eye on things. We can dive the site for a while. I’ll be in before dark. Is everything OK there?” he asked.
Susan knew that Skeeter was just saying these things. She was aware of his disinformation program and played along. “We’re fine here. We’ve begun bringing things inside for the storm. Max and some of those men from the Defense Force are stringing out lines to secure your boat. We’ll be buttoned up tighter than a drum by tonight.”
“Be sure and thank them for me. Now I have to get into the water. See you tonight. Call if anything comes up.”
“All right, Honey. Be careful and I’ll see you tonight.”
Hammerhead and Whale had their story. Tonight would be their night. Skeeter felt confident that he had made his point, so he hoisted the anchor and headed for home. He placed the cursor on radar right over the wreck site and set the range to twenty miles. This would have to be monitored throughout the day. If any boats came within ten miles of the site, Skeeter would be out there long before they could do any damage.
Everyone on Great Guana was very busy when Skeeter returned. As many artifacts and as much furniture as they could fit into the house was being stored. The guards had already nailed plywood over the windows of the barracks and were setting up to do the same to the Pincus residence. Max and Gaffer had strung sturdy lines across the turning basin and tied them from pine trees on one bank to palm trees on the other. As long as the trees did not go down in the storm and the tide did not rise more than six feet, the boats would probably be OK. A direct hit from the storm could devastate the island as others had in the past. This one was still minimal and there was still hope that the front from the north might blow it away. But fronts can be wicked too, so no amount of preparation would be too much.
Skeeter picked up the telephone and called to the Sand Dollar Bar. Bonnie was there placing her bar supplies into boxes for the porter to move inside the motel. She was about to place the final lock on the cabinet behind the bar in preparation to leave when the telephone rang. Skeeter was anxious to hear what she had to say.
“Bonnie, “ he said, “was Hammerhead there when I made the radio call home?”
“Skeeter, I’m so glad you called. Yes, he was here and he heard your transmission. He and his friend stopped drinking and went down to their boat. They have big plans for tonight. They used my phone and called over to Treasure Cay Divers. They’re getting an extra boat, two extra divers and a whole bunch of equipment for tonight.”
“Is Troy going to be there?”
“That would be my guess. They’re using the resort boat, so that makes me believe he’s planning on being there.”
“Where’s Hammerhead right now?” Skeeter asked.
“Get this,” replied Bonnie. “Would you believe he and his buddy went back to their room to rest up for tonight? They tied on a good one last night and woke up shaky this morning. They’re in their room recharging. Oh, by the way, they were also talking about that radar unit.”
“What did they day?”
“Just that they were angry that it didn’t work. They don’t have a clue.”
“Are you going to be around for the rest of the day?” asked Skeeter.
“I’m leaving now. I have my own house to get ready for the storm. Good luck with the bad guys. Let me know how it shakes out.”
“I’ll do that,” replied Skeeter. “Thanks for all your help. Good luck with the storm.”
Skeeter walked down to the turning basin where Max and Cameron were sitting on the dock chatting. “Well, that does it,” he said. “Guess who’s joined the bad guys.”
“What are you talking about?” asked Max.
“The invasion of the wreck site is definitely tonight and Troy Matson is going to be diving with them.”
“The more the merrier,” said Cameron. “They’ll all fit into the net
so don’t worry.”
“You sound awful confident,” said Skeeter.
“Of course I’m confident. We’re going to overwhelm those guys so bad they won’t know what hit them. You’ll see your Royal Bahamas Defense Force in action.”
“Troy Matson is a professional scuba diver, maybe the best around. He’s not going to go down that easy.”
“We’ve got ten highly trained law enforcement officers ready to pluck them out of the sea. I don’t see the threat.”
“Maybe I’m just being over protective,” said Skeeter. “You’re probably right. In any event, if they arrive in two boats and there are four divers, that doubles our work. We should be ready for that.”
“Stop worrying,” said Cameron. “We have overwhelming odds against them. My only concern is that second boat. We did not get a chance to disable their radar. That could be a problem.”
“That boat doesn’t have radar,” said Skeeter. “The only electronics it has are a GPS, VHF radio and a depth finder.”
“Problem solved,” said Cameron. “Now stop worrying.”
By mid afternoon the leading edge of the storm system had reached Abaco. The normally calm waters of the Sea of Abaco had chopped up to two feet in the twenty-five knot wind. Offshore seas were building to four to six feet. Skeeter worried that it might be too rough for Hammerhead and the rest of his wayward band to attempt the dive. He figured that their main asset, the one that might mean going ahead with the plan, was Troy Matson. These seas were rough for beginning divers, he did not know how skilled Hammerhead and Whale were, but a diver like Troy could easily make three dives in seas like these and still come back for more. Three dives could do a great deal of damage to a fragile archaeological site like the San Pedro. The canvass and netting material covering the site would be no match for the divers sharp knives.
Twenty-five
The Net Closes
On August 21st the sun set at 7:47 PM. There would be thirty-five minutes of dusk and then it would be completely dark. There was a quarter moon which was hidden by clouds. Everything was masked in darkness. Skeeter and Cameron had kept vigil over the radar screen from late in the afternoon until early evening. At 8:30, two light specs began moving across the radar screen, one out of Treasure Cay, the other out of Green Turtle. Miss Fit and Abaco Diver were on the prowl.
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