by Sean Blaise
This is a peaceful way to go she thought.
At her current depth, the mixture of Xanax and the higher pressure of the air she was breathing meant she was nearing a delusional state. She was getting sleepy. She felt like she was in her bed back in England. Jennifer barely felt the tug of the ocean current as it dragged her further into the wreck.
St. Helena, that wretched island was just a bad dream. All of this was a bad dream. She closed her eyes. She could almost smell the maid making breakfast, always a signal that it was time to rise. Before long, her mother would come into the room and gently wake her. Her father would always just shout. She could hear his shout now.
Jennifer rolled onto her side to get more comfortable. She had always been a side sleeper. She opened her eyes just for a second. The large grouper staring back at her, jarred her foggy brain back to reality. She was not home.
Panic pushed its way into her brain, forcing its way through the drug fog and reminding her that this was life and death. Jennifer looked around, trying to figure out where she was.
She looked at her air gauge and saw it was nearly empty. It made no sense. She couldn’t have used that much air. She traced the gauge line with a trembling hand and felt a neat nick in the hose with a steady stream of bubbles pouring out. That explained why her tank had emptied so fast. Was it cut?
Jennifer couldn’t be sure. Looking around, she realized the entire floor the wreck was filled with sharp rusted metal. Any one of them could have cut the line.
Jennifer could only see the darkness of the wrecks deck above her now. The current had dragged her from the opening she had fallen through, forward into the bowels of the ship.
She instinctively pressed her BC valve again, trying to free herself from the bottom. She rose for a second until the hole in her BC released another massive stream of bubbles and she dropped back down to the floor. The current was rapidly carrying her forward deeper into the bow of the ship.
Jennifer fumbled with her weights. She was trying to undo the clips that were supposed to allow a diver to get rid of weight quickly, but she was unable to work the clips in her rising panic. She used one hand to grab out for an old workbench to stop her from sliding further into the ship.
Jennifer tried again to drop some weight and finally managed to work the clip and one side fell free. Suddenly, the loud trill of her low air alarm went off. Jennifer felt her breathing increase rapidly at the sound, which was the worst outcome in her low air situation.
She knew at this depth that she needed a safety stop to avoid the bends, but she didn’t have the air for it. There was no barometric chamber on St. Helena and getting the bends here meant death or even worse--permanent paralysis. Panicked thoughts were booming in her head when something large crashed into her back.
A large Jewfish swam by Jennifer, shoving her to the side of the wreck and causing her to lose her grip. Her head smashed into the wall of the ship, her mask losing suction on her face. Cold water poured into her mask. She struggled to figure out which way was up as she tried to clear her mask in vain. She could still make out the light of the freighter’s hull opening but it seemed so far away now. She tried to swim back toward the opening with her air alarm screaming that she was out of time.
Jennifer felt someone grab her arm. She grabbed onto them for dear life. She felt the person swimming them slowly back toward the opening in the wreck's deck.
The person tried to fill her BC and then realized what Jennifer could have told them had she been able to speak. It was useless and they had just dumped what little air Jennifer had left.
Jennifer could hear her rescuer’s BC beginning to fill when they reached the opening. The person expertly dropped Jennifer’s remaining weight as if it were the easiest thing in the world.
Jennifer was relieved. She was rescued. Had Greg come for her? She held on to the person, her eyes fogged by seawater, but they felt smaller than Greg. Jennifer didn’t care who it was. God had saved her again for some reason, maybe she was supposed to come clean.
Her Catholic faith said anything could be forgiven, including what they had done on the island. Jennifer drew a breath, and nothing happened. She tried again. Nothing. Her tank was finally empty.
Jennifer freaked. Her body began thrashing about trying to get air, any air. Her rescuer, bear-hugged her body tight, keeping her from moving, and brought their spare regulator to Jennifer’s mouth. With no fanfare, the person ripped out Jennifer’s mouthpiece and shoved in the spare from their tank. Jennifer sucked on it hungrily and felt the cold dry air fill her lungs. She felt her fancy dive computer sound its alarm. They were ascending far too fast.
As if the rescuer already knew this, they released air from their BC, slowing the descent to a crawl. Jennifer could now see four other divers surrounding them, following them up. After their safety stop, they finally broke the surface. Jennifer ripped her mask off, coughing violently. She looked back at her rescuer, it was Amanda.
“Thank you,” Jennifer blurted out before she broke down crying.
Chapter 30
“What the hell happened down there?!” John screamed at his crew in the after-incident meeting.
Bill shook his head.
“I don’t know. You went up with Wayland and we continued ahead with the exercise. I turned back not even two minutes later, and Jennifer was gone. We all started a pattern search over and around the wreck. We were going in the direction of the current so it should have swept her toward us.”
“You almost got a student killed,” John shouted.
“That’s not fair John,” Smith interjected.
“Smith for God’s sake shut up! I’m in charge of the crew, you, the program. Are we clear? When it comes to running my ship, keep your mouth shut.”
“Diving is a program event, so I’m in charge,” Smith shot back coldly.
“Stop, it’s no one’s fault. The procedures worked perfectly. The question is why Jennifer did not get herself up on her own. It should be easy at this point in the training; they know what to do. Amanda said she had to drop Jennifer’s weights for her like she hadn’t even tried,” Lubanzi said.
“What happened to her BC and gauge line?” Bill asked. “Both had leaks.”
“Jennifer said she thinks she caught it on the side of the wreck. But it doesn’t make any sense, because she said she started leaking then fell into the wreck.”
“I don’t know but I want every BC and tank setup checked by professional crewmembers before we dive again in the Caribbean. No exceptions. I want crew signatures on the checklists that prove you did the check. Min of two crew per dive group now and moving forward,” John instructed.
“I think there is another issue,” Smith began.
“What’s that?”
“Did you see the size of Jennifer’s pupils when we had her on deck, recovering?” Smith asked.
“I did. She was on something. If it’s onboard, I want it found. If she got it onshore, her shore leave in other ports will be chaperoned only. She doesn’t seem like the type to do that on her own, but Greg or Jack certainly would. We need to toss all the bunks unannounced to find this contraband. Sailing is hard enough. I don’t want the added risk of them doing it high for God’s sake,” John said.
“Captain,” Smith offered with a deference which meant that she was about to say something John wouldn’t like. “We have procedures for things like this.”
“Enlighten me, what’s the procedure?”
“We offer the students one hour to place every piece of contraband in the galley. One hour amnesty time, no crew, and no judgment on what we find. Then we toss the bunks after that. We don’t need to destroy kids’ lives to get compliance. Please follow the school’s established procedures. They have worked for 10 years.”
John gave in with a heavy sigh. He knew she was right, and he knew his anger was boiling over. He mostly angry at Jennifer. All that work to keep her alive and she had almost gotten herself killed.
“Anno
unce it Smith. One hour and after that, toss the bunks Lubanzi and Charlie. I’ll be in my cabin.”
Chapter 31
“What the hell did you do?” Greg demanded as he slammed Jack against his cabin wall. Wayland was making a weird noise next to him, his body shaking while he looked at Greg.
“I didn’t do a thing.”
“Jen almost died down there. How do you explain that?”
“She’s a mess right now, can’t handle what we did. And she decided to go diving? She probably has a death wish.”
“You piece of shit, if anything happens to her, I will kill you.”
“Let go of me,” Jack said.
Greg obliged and dropped Jack back on his feet. Wayland began calming down and weird noise diminished.
“This is so fucked,” Greg began, sitting down on the floor holding his head.
“Yes, it is, but we are all in this together. The four of us. Jennifer is the weak link. She is the one person who is unstable enough to talk, and in doing so, could send us all to prison. I know you won’t rat; and Wayland will do as I say. Greg, I am not going to spend the rest of my life in prison for this. Jennifer is your responsibility. So, what are you going to do about her?”
“Her Buoyancy Compensator had ten pounds of weight in it during that dive. Mind telling me who did that?” Greg asked.
“I don’t deny it. It was me. The weights were clipped in and easily dropped. I had no idea she would be high. I just wanted to remind her that there would be consequences if she doesn’t pull it together. I didn’t mean to kill her.”
“Her gauge line and BC were cut.”
“She did that somewhere in that wreck on her own. That wasn’t me.”
Greg looked at Jack and felt sure he was lying. He stood up and towered over Jack.
“Greg, listen to me. I know I don’t need to tell you again, but if you don’t control her, you will die in prison. Wayland and I will tell the story with you as the ringleader. Our parents will work to ensure you hang as the ringleader. We will get community service. You have the most to lose if you can’t keep her quiet. So, get her to act right or deal with her some other way.”
Greg pulled Jack close again. Before Jack knew what was happening Greg had his large sailing knife to Jack’s throat. Wayland began his whine again, shaking like a leaf.
“I’ve heard you, Jack. Now listen to me very carefully. I will deal with Jennifer. She will do as she is told. I put up with your shit back home because I had to. Guys like me got to take a lot of shit to get ahead. But out here, the game is level. Out here the only power comes from real strength, not political strength. Mess with Jen again, and you won’t make it to a trial. Am I clear?”
Jack didn’t waver. He didn’t look afraid, in fact, he looked calm. He knew the score.
“Deal with her then, Greg and we have no problems, except how we spend our treasure. If you don’t, we are all fucked.”
Chapter 32
Smith’s ‘amnesty hour’ had revealed an absolute cornucopia of contraband. John was blown away by how many illegal products the students had brought on board his ship. Huge bottles of liquor, absinthe, and more than a few bags of weed. The entire galley counter was covered with violations of the school’s policies.
John felt betrayed. His students, who he trusted had broken the rules. He wanted to punish them, but the program rules forbade it. Something about trust between students and staff.
John hadn’t been raised that way. It was all new world bullshit to him. His father had been a firm believer in corporal punishment. Screw up? Feel the cane. That had been his father’s way, and John knew first-hand how well it worked. This touchy-feely shit made his stomach turn.
Once the contraband was turned over, the staff tossed the bunks. Nothing additional was found, but there were so many hiding places on the ship that John doubted all the contraband had been discovered. He had no doubt there was more on board, but his time was limited, and he couldn’t delay the departure any longer. The oncoming storm wasn’t going to wait.
Beagle retrieved her anchors right around sunset and began motoring away from St. Helena towards Brazil. It was hard getting the kids back into the routine of underway life. They had gotten used to the freedom of not having to wear lifejackets every minute they were on deck and they balked at having to do it again.
They were also grumpy about leaving land. John understood that only too well. You get so used to the soft comforts of shore life quickly and getting back out in the ocean always left you feeling a little forlorn. Land was the natural order of things; it was home, and it was always missed.
Beagle raised a full complement of sails once they had departed the bay. The wind was still moderate, and the seas were easy five-foot rollers with a long, leisurely period.
John knew it would change for the worse soon. By the latest download, the storm was only a day or two behind them. John had decided to keep the motor running for at least ten hours to help the ship point higher on the wind than Beagle could on sail power alone.
He wanted to get ahead and somewhat above the storm before they encountered the high winds. This way, he could run on a broad reach to their final destination in Brazil and surf the large seas.
Before departure, John had finally had his correction talk with Smith. It had not gone well; John had concluded that either she or he needed to leave when the semester was over. They clashed too much. She wanted a Captain she could walk over and that was never going to be John.
Smith claimed to have seen him talking to Helen as well as having a beer, which violated some rule of the Ocean Exploration School. John wondered what Smith would think if she actually knew what else had happened with Helen.
Helen, he was going to miss that one. Thankfully, John had had to clear customs for the ship to get permission to leave St. Helena and go on to Brazil. He had managed to find time to make it back to Helen’s café.
When he told her that he was leaving, she unceremoniously closed the café and had taken him to the storeroom. There once more he had taken her against the wall. It was incredible--once in a lifetime.
John’s call with the Ocean Exploration School headquarters had not gone so well either. They were highly concerned with Jennifer’s diving incident, and how the operation was being run. No doubt Smith had whispered in their ears.
John had assured the director that the student’s safety was his only priority, and the dives would be monitored even more closely in the future.
John was already doubting his future with the company. For the money he was getting paid, the risk was simply too great. The students were still just learning how to sail, and the constant stress of watching them was taking its toll on John.
John's 6 on/6 off watch was also killing him, but he had to float between all the watches to make sure everyone stayed safe. And he was having trouble sleeping during his six hours off. It was unsustainable and he knew the next week of storms would make it even more so.
John made a note to sleep a straight eight hours while it was still calm, knowing he would be up around the clock once the storm finally hit.
Chapter 33
Two days out from St. Helena, and the storm had still not entirely reached Beagle. They were making excellent time, and John finally felt like the ship was back in order.
There had been grumbles from the students. However, once they had reestablished their watch routines, they had all fallen back into line. They were excited with anticipation of the next port, Fortaleza, Brazil. With one exception. Jennifer.
She had not been the same since St. Helena and John needed to find out why. She had seemed off ever since they left the island and she avoided eye contact with John. It was worrying.
“Smith do you have a minute?” John asked her when she got off watch.
She gave him a cold look, still smarting from his conversation about the ships pecking order but she obliged and entered his cabin.
“What can I do for you, Captain?”
&n
bsp; “I’m concerned about a student,” John said. John marveled at how Smith’s attitude toward him evaporated instantly. Smith was a professional, and the students’ well-being was of paramount importance to her.
“Jennifer?” Smith guessed.
“You noticed it too?”
“Hard not to. What do you think it is?”
“I don’t know. But I don’t want to find out later that I could have done something to help and I didn’t. Something has changed with her,” John said.
“I agree.”
“She stepped on St. Helena, happy and now she is just a shadow of that person.”
“What do you think happened?”
“I have no idea, but since you’re the ship’s counselor I figured I’d ask you. What is the procedure here? How do we find out what’s wrong?”
“I could speak to her if you like. But I think you should. She sees you as having saved her life, and honestly, you have a closer relationship with her than me. I have no illusions; I know how the students perceive me. I’m a hard ass, and most don’t like me. I think you have a better chance of finding out what happened than I do.”
“I’ll try and if I get nowhere, I would like for you to give it a shot. Can I ask you a question? Since you’re the expert.”
The coldness in Smith’s eyes came back.
“I’m surprised you think I am an expert at anything.”
John waved his hand dismissively.
“Let’s not start. Put our differences aside for a minute. The change we’re seeing with Jennifer, from happy girl to a ghost, generally what causes a change like that?”
Smith looked at her hands for a moment before looking back at John.
“Honestly Captain, it’s almost always trauma. A traumatic event causes people to withdraw into themselves like that. Avoiding people. Rape, something like that, or equally horrible. And we have to find out what happened on that island that changed her.”