03 Underwater Adventure

by Willard Price

  ming towards Hal, was coming straight into the path of

  the deadly hull.

  Hal swam up towards his brother, but he could make little headway because of the pull of the fish on his gun. It was a choice between saving the gun or saving Roger. He let go of the gun and the big grey snapper promptly swam away towing the precious sea rifle behind him.

  Hal crashed into Roger, violently pushing him out of the path of the oncoming boat. Then he ducked, but not in time to escape the boat’s iron-ribbed keel. It struck him squarely on the head and then scraped over him as it sped on. His last thought before he faded out was that the blades of the propeller would chop him into mince meat. Fortunately the men had already cut the motor and the quiet blades did no more than give him a good scrape.

  Roger swam to his unconscious brother and held his head out of water. Dr Blake was already swimming out and the fishermen had plunged in to help. Blake and Roger, with the assistance of the natives, got the inert body to the schooner and hoisted it on deck.

  Blake felt Hal’s pulse.

  ‘Just knocked silly. He’ll come out of it all right.’

  He went below to get medicine and bandages for the cuts and bruises. Roger and the natives turned Hal over a capstan and got some of the water out of him. Hal began to breathe in gasps. He opened his eyes to find Dr Blake looming over him. A look of complete disgust was on the doctor’s face.

  ‘Sorry,’ Hal said, but Blake did not answer. He stooped and began patching up the battered body.

  Hal felt as if he could sink through the deck for shame. He had lost a costly gun, lost his mask, lost his fish, failed to watch out for surface boats. He and Roger were morons. They had been so anxious to prove their ability to the head of the expedition. They had botched their chance.

  Hal expected that at any moment the scientist would explode and tell them what he thought of them. He almost wished he would. That would be better than keeping it bottled up and boiling around in his brain.

  Blake looked daggers but said nothing. He barely spoke the rest of the day.

  After they were all in their bunks that night, he said, ‘Hal, you’d better get over to the airport tomorrow morning and meet the seven o’clock plane. Inkham will be coming in.’

  ‘Inkham?’

  ‘Didn’t I tell you? I arranged for him before I left Honolulu. About your age - but he’s really had experience in undersea work. I’ve seen him dive. He’s good.’

  Blake was silent a moment, then he added, ‘It’ll be good to have somebody around who knows which end his head is screwed on to.’

  With which bitter reflection he turned over and went to sleep.

  Hal lay awake all night.

  Chapter 2

  The practical joke

  Shortly after sunrise, Hal had the dinghy lowered. An outboard motor had been clamped to the stern of the little boat. Hal jumped in, gave the motor a twirl, and sped away across the lagoon.

  It was a morning to make anyone happy. The sun shone gloriously. The water was as smooth and clear as a sheet of plate glass. The coral gardens at the bottom blazed with colour. The green islands towered a thousand feet high. Far away the surf broke white on the reef that encircled the great lagoon.

  Anyone should be happy, but Hal was not. He still smarted from the humiliation of the day before. He had expected to be Dr Blake’s right-hand man. But Blake thought he was a fool. Hal was inclined to agree with him. He had certainly made a brilliant donkey of himself. Now a new man was coming - a man Blake could trust.

  Hal puzzled over the name - Inkham. Where had he heard that name before? It was an odd name, not one you hear every day. He searched his school memories, but in vain. All he could remember was that there had been something unpleasant connected with that name.

  It was eleven miles to the airfield on the big island of Moen. The boat sped through a maze of small islands, passed large Tarik, Param, and Fefan, then skirted the shore of Dublon littered with the ruins of the Japanese city destroyed by the bombing planes of the Allies during World War II. All these west Pacific islands had previously been ruled by the Japanese and were now a Trust Territory of the United Nations, administered by the United States. On Moen was a U.S. Naval Base and airfield.

  A plane droned in from the east and circled the airfield just as Hal pulled up to the dock and climbed out. He was on the field before the plane taxied to a stop.

  Several men in naval uniform stepped out, then a young fellow in civvies.

  Hal disliked his face the moment he saw it. And he was sure he had seen it before. That smart, sly, crafty look was hard to forget.

  The new-comer stopped and looked around. Hal stepped up to him.

  ‘Is your name Inkham?’

  ‘S. K. Inkham, at your service.’

  Then Hal remembered. ‘Why, of course - I thought I knew you - you’re Skink.’ He thrust out his hand.

  Skink took it, but without enthusiasm. ‘And you’re Hal Hunt,’ he said sourly. He did not seem at all pleased to meet an old acquaintance.

  To relieve the strain between them Hal said, ‘Well, come along. FI1 give you a hand with your bags. The boat is over here.’

  As they walked across the field Hal’s mind worked fast, digging up memories. He and Skink had gone to rival high schools. Skink’s first name was Sylvester, but he didn’t like it, so he always called himself S. K. Inkham. His fellow students couldn’t swallow that, so they simply put together his two initials with the first three letters of his last name and nicknamed him Skink.

  Hal could understand why Skink was not pleased to meet anyone who knew his school record. It had not been so good. He had been dropped from the football team for dirty work and suspended from his classes for cheating in exams. Then he had almost killed the biology teacher. The incident had created quite a sensation hi the town.

  The teacher had severely reprimanded Skink for the theft of a microscope. In revenge, Skink had dropped a sidewinder into the teacher’s pocket. The adult sidewinder is only a foot long but it is a true rattlesnake and can inflict a deadly bite. The teacher put his hand in his pocket and was bitten. He spent three days in the hospital, close to death.

  Skink was expelled from school. The Inkham family moved to another town where their past was not known.

  No wonder Skink was not tickled to bump into someone who knew him then.

  Hal tried to make conversation. ‘Well, how do you like our lagoon?’ The boat spun a winding path between islands that looked like green towers spilling blossoms and fruit from all their balconies.

  Skink looked around, and grunted.

  Hal could guess what was on Skink’s mind. He was afraid Hal would tell what he knew of him.

  Should I tell? Hal wondered. The doctor has a right to know what sort of man he has on board. This fellow will cause trouble sooner or later. He might even wreck the expedition. I could prevent that by putting Dr Blake wise now. If Blake knows, he will drop Skink from his staff. At least he won’t put him above me. I don’t think I could stand having him lord it over me.

  But he knew he wouldn’t tell. Not even to Roger. Roger wouldn’t remember Skink - he had been too young at the time.

  Perhaps Skink had reformed. Perhaps he was really a good egg now. He should be given a chance to prove it. ‘Look, Skink,’ Hal said. T don’t quite know how to say this -1 think you and I ought to have an understanding.’

  Skink looked at him suspiciously. ‘What sort of understanding?’

  ‘You had some bad luck in school. But you needn’t think I’m going to blab about it’ 1 didn’t get a fair deal in school.’ Hal thought about his. ‘Seems to me you got more than a fair deal, Skink. You might have been tried for attempted murder. But your teacher refused to prefer charges. He even paid his own hospital bill. He insisted that what you had done was only a practical joke.’ ‘That’s all it was,’ maintained Skink. ‘Just a joke.’ Hal could not answer. He could only look unbelievingly at this rascal who considered killing o
r near-killing only a joke. He thought of the days ahead - of the work under water. There were enough dangers down below without having this kind of joker in the game. But that was a chance that would have to be taken.

  ‘All I want you to know,’ he said, ‘is that you’re going to have a fair deal now.’

  ‘Hunt,’ exclaimed Skink, ‘come down off your high horse. Who do you think you are, talking to me like a father? I can run my own affairs. Pretty soon 111 be running yours too. I know more about this undersea stuff than you and your Blake put together. Within a month I’m going to be boss of this expedition. Never mind my deal - start worrying about what kind of a deal you’re going to have. If you were smart you’d get out now. Jf you don’t, you can expect to take orders from me, and they won’t always be nice. Now do we understand each other?’

  ‘I think we do,’ Hal said. His steady gaze bored into the shifty eyes of his companion. ‘You want it to be you against me. All right, if that’s the way you want it, that’s the way it will be.’

  They came alongside the Lively Lady and went aboard. Blake was at the rail.

  ‘Good morning, Inkham,’ Blake said heartily.

  Skink was all smiles now. ‘Nice to see you again, Blake.’

  They shook hands. Dr Blake’s eyes ran admiringly over the strong, supple figure of the new man.

  ‘Good to have you aboard,’ he said. ‘We’ve been having a tough time - we need you.’

  ‘I think 1 can help you out,’ said Skink with a confident jerk of his head.

  ‘Come below and I’ll show you where you can put your things. Then we’ll have breakfast.’

  They went down the companionway into the cabin. There was a smell of hot coffee. Omo, who doubled as seaman and cook, was putting breakfast on the table. Blake moved towards the rear of the cabin.

  ‘You’ll sleep here,’ he said, indicating a bunk in the stem. The bunks were close together there and the headroom was not so good.

  But Skink had stopped in the roomier part of the cabin beside the widest bunk.

  ‘Is this one occupied^’ he asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Blake said, ‘that happens to be mine.’

  Again he turned aft but Skink did not follow. I’d be mighty sorry to inconvenience you,’ Skink said, ‘but the fact is I wouldn’t be much use to you if I slept back there. The motion, you know. Rolling I don’t mind, but pitching knocks me out. I’d do better amidships. But of course I wouldn’t think of disturbing you. I’ll just sleep up on deck.’

  ‘Not on your life,’ said Blake generously. ‘Take my bunk and I’ll move back.’

  ‘Sure you don’t mind?’

  ‘Not a bit.’

  Skink threw his luggage into the master bunk.

  ‘Now for something to eat,’ said Blake. ‘Of course we usually have breakfast earlier than this, but we waited for you. Here’s Captain Ike now. Captain Flint, meet Mr Inkham.’ They shook hands. ‘And this is Roger.’

  Skink said, ‘Hi,’ in the tone of one who has no time to bother with kids.

  ‘Omo, Mr Inkham.’

  The handsome young Polynesian came forward with outstretched hand, a smile parting his lips to show flashing white teeth set in a face as brown as mahogany.

  Skink suddenly took an interest in something else and appeared not to notice the hand. Omo withdrew it and calmly went back to his duties. He showed no resentment.

  But Hal was boiling with rage. His fist hardened, his muscles tensed, and he could hardly restrain himself from landing a smashing blow in the middle of Skink’s smug face.

  So, Skink thought himself too good to shake hands with Omo! Omo, who was worth a dozen Skinks. Omo, who had more than once risked his life for Hal and Roger. Omo, who had shown such patience and courage during those terrible days on the desert island and on the raft. The brown giant’s education was probably equal to Skink’s and he had something more important that Skink lacked - character. Hal and Omo had sworn to be blood brothers, following the old Polynesian custom. And now that his ‘brother’ had been insulted, all he could do was sit and fume.

  Never mind. There would come a day when Skink would answer for this.

  The breakfast consisted of tropical fruits, turtles’ eggs, toast, and coffee. When it was finished Skink said,

  ‘Now, Blake, you might brief me on your set-up. We didn’t have much of a chance to talk in Honolulu.’

  ‘That’s right,’ Blake said. ‘You really don’t know much about us, nor I about you. But I saw you dive, and that was enough. Anybody who can dive like that …’

  ‘Thanks,’ smiled Skink.

  ‘You already know that I’m with the Oceanographic Institute to study sea life and collect specimens. But perhaps you would like to know about this schooner. She’s a fine little ship, sixty feet overall, and carries the triangular Marconi sail, the fastest sail in the world. She also takes a jib and two staysails. She has an auxiliary engine to get her through tight passages. She is equipped with tanks for specimens.’

  How did she happen to be fitted up with specimen tanks?’

  ‘Before I chartered her,’ explained Blake, ‘she had been used by Hal Hunt and his brother to take specimens for their father who is an animal collector. She belongs to Captain Flint here. When they finished their expedition, I chartered her from Flint on condition that he would come along to run her. And since these boys had sailed in her, I employed them too.’

  ‘So the Oceanographic has given you the power to hire and fire as you please?’ That’s right,’ said Blake

  Skink smiled at Hal. It looked to everyone else like a friendly smile, but Hal knew what it meant. Skink intended to see to it that Hal and his brother were fired. Then there would be no one to tell tales.

  ‘Besides collecting specimens,’ went on Dr Blake, ‘we’re supposed to keep an eye out for sunken ships.’

  Roger snapped to attention. Here was something to catch a boy’s fancy. Treasure ships?’ he exclaimed. ‘Well, yes, you might call them treasure ships, although the main thing the oceanographers and historians want is not treasure, but information about how men lived and sailed in the old Spanish days. You see, from the sixteenth century to the nineteenth, all these islands were owned by Spain. So were the Philippines. Spanish ships, loaded with the gold of the Philippines, used to come by here, stopping for food and water at these islands, and sailing on to the coast of Mexico, which was also Spanish. There the cargo would be transported overland, then reshipped to Spain. Because the ships could touch at Spanish territory all along the way, it was safer than taking the other route around the world.

  ‘But these old galleons were none too seaworthy, and many of them went down - along with all the interesting things they carried in their cargo. Some people think that stories of sunken treasure are just stories, but the truth is that thousands of ships lie at the bottom of the sea, waiting to be found. A large proportion of the Spanish losses were along this route because it lies in the path of the typhoons. Few of them have been located because diving technique wasn’t good enough. But now, with all the new diving inventions, the aqualung, undersea sled, bathyscope, and the rest, we ought to be able to do a lot better.’

  They went on deck. It would not do to dive too soon after eating. So they stood by the rail and looked down to the colourful hills and valleys of the coral landscape, indistinct now because of the depth.

  ‘It’s another world,’ Blake said. ‘Nothing like it in the top world. I’ve been diving for twenty years. Sometimes I think I feel more at home down there than up above. It grows on you. At first it seems strange and perhaps a little terrifying. There are dangers, of course, but there are dangers in crossing a city street. After nearly getting knocked down by flying taxicabs, it’s a relief to sink into a world of quiet and peace. Have you ever read Jules Verne’s Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea?’

  The boys nodded. They had all read it.

  ‘Then you remember that when one of the crew of the Nautilus died, they buried him at the bo
ttom of the sea. I’ve often thought of that. It’s just what I would want.’ Skink laughed a little but Blake went on, ‘I’m quite serious. I have no wife or children, nothing to draw me back to the land. If anything should happen to me, I could ask for nothing better than to be put away in a quiet coral garden like that one.’

  He laughed as he noticed their sober faces.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ he said, ‘I’m not moving down for quite a while yet. Now, let’s get out the gear and plan the day’s work.’

  The scorpion in the helmet

  It was decided that Hal should go down in a diving suit. Dr Blake considered the diving suit old-fashioned, but there were times when it must be used. The diving suit was an old story to Skink, and Roger was thought too young to risk its dangers.

  Hal admitted that he had never been in a suit and could do with a little practice.

  Dr Blake ordered Captain Ike to move the schooner to a deeper part of the lagoon.

  While this was being done, a heavy rubber diving suit, heavy copper helmet, and still heavier leaden boots were brought on deck. Then came a great coil of lifeline and a still bulkier coil of air-hose. Then a pump, and a compressor.

  A scorpion that had been hiding among the gear skittered away across the deck, its slender tail and venomous sting arched above its greenish-white body.

  Those things come on board in the baskets of fruit,’ Blake said.

  Hal drew on the clumsy suit. Within this waterproof, airproof garment he at once began to sweat profusely.

  The suit was so bulky and heavy that he was unable to bend over to put on his boots. Blake fitted them to his feet. Each boot had a thick sole of solid lead and weighed fifty pounds. When Hal tried to walk he found he could scarcely lift his feet.

  Chapter 3

  The scorpion in the helmet

  ‘Next, the helmet,’ Blake said. ‘But there’s one valve missing. I’ll get it’

  He went down the companionway to the storeroom. Roger was at the bow, attracted by the flashing of a porpoise. Hal was busy inspecting his suit. So there was no one to notice when Skink went to the scuppers where the scorpion had lodged, picked it up deftly by the tail, and dropped it inside the copper helmet.