Wreckers Island

by L K Harcourt

  The others agreed and opted for a round of tea. Dan was very much the sensible one out of the two boys; John, similar to Louise, tended to be more headstrong and hot-headed. But there were times when Dan’s common sense and cool head were called for.

  Not that his head was entirely cool. Under his calm, almost passive exterior, his mind buzzed with the revelations he had uncovered in the diary and the mystery it had thrown up, while at the same time, puzzling over the mixed messages received from Emma.

  Dan desired her so much, both physically and emotionally. He couldn’t resist wondering what she and Louise had got up to. He wished, badly, that it had been him under Emma’s duvet. Yes of course, he wanted to be inside her and touch every part of her, but more than anything Dan yearned to hold her close and kiss her. That’s what he ached to do, to place his lips on hers – the woman he loved.

  ‘Dan is miles away, dreaming of Spanish galleons and buried treasure,’ said Louise with a grin, when her efforts to hand him a mug of tea failed.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said, reaching for the tea. As he pressed his lips against the rim of the mug, he imagined them pressed against Emma’s. Above all, that was the treasure he truly wanted, far more so than any hoard of gold coins – although, that would be nice too, of course!

  CHAPTER 7

  By the time lunch had been cleared away, Dan had pushed all romantic musings aside, focussing instead on the exciting task of poking around the outbuilding to see if, just possibly, there was something of interest to be uncovered.

  ‘Oooh I can’t wait,’ exclaimed Louise who, after her initial scepticism, was now full of excitement at the prospect of hunting around for a hidden tunnel. ‘Isn’t it sooo thrilling! This is the sort of thing you might expect in books, but not in real life.’

  ‘Very true, and that’s why it may well all end up in one big disappointment,’ warned Dan. ‘If this were a book, no doubt we would find a tunnel, but as it’s real life, chances are we will just find some sort of drainage shaft or something and that will be it.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ said Louise, refusing to be deflated. ‘It’s still great fun! I have to admit, in all the times I’ve been to this island, the thought that there might be a long-forgotten passage still connected to it never occurred to me. And my parents have certainly never mentioned it.’

  ‘That’s a good sign it doesn’t exist, but on an afternoon like this, it’s got to be worth having a look,’ said Dan, wrapping up the diagrams carefully, not wanting them to be damaged by the wind, rain and sea spray.

  They put on thick jumpers since it would be cold and draughty in the outbuilding and trooped to the main door of the lighthouse. John had to use all his strength to wrench it open as water had swollen it and it had jammed shut. When he finally succeeded, the students were greeted by a wall of wind determined to push them back inside.

  ‘Oh my God, it’s savage,’ cried Louise, exultantly, loving the power of the gale and the spray lashing her face. ‘Oh isn’t this the most amazing sight!’

  The others all paused, in awe of the storm raging around their island. It was one thing to watch it from the safety of the lamp room, but to actually be outside in it was an exhilarating, almost frightening experience.

  ‘Just look at those monster waves crashing over those rocks,’ shouted Louise, struggling to be heard over the noise of wind and sea.

  ‘Well be careful,’ shouted John, his hands dug deep into his waterproof, don’t get too close to the water’s edge, if we get swept out to sea, we’ll be done for. Come on, let’s get into the outbuilding and take a good look around.’

  They were glad when Louise managed to turn the key in the stubborn lock and let themselves into the outbuilding – essentially a large shed – and closed the door firmly behind them. Inside, it was very basic and spartan – a sizeable open area which probably once served as a mini workshop, a little storeroom and a primitive outside toilet.

  ‘It’s quite roomy, almost like the garage of a house,’ said Emma.

  ‘Yes but when it was built remember, a lighthouse keeper would have lived here all year round, he needed a reasonable amount of space to keep things in and to do some basic carpentry and other odd-jobs,’ pointed out John.

  Dan carefully unfolded the diagrams and spread them out over a trunk containing old lobster pots.

  ‘Ok, so let’s think,’ he said. ‘We need to get our bearings and make sure we’re holding the plans the right way round. Surely it must be that way, with the storeroom in the left hand corner, which would put that circular shape towards the centre of that wall behind us.’

  They span round and looked expectantly at the spot to which Dan was pointing. There was, in fact, no floor to be seen. It was covered in old bric-a-brac and furniture.

  ‘Come on Dan, help me shift this chest of drawers,’ said John. The pair of them lugged it to one side, then dragged the other items out of the way, one by one.

  A tarpaulin lay stretched across the area in question so they pulled that back too, eager to discover what was beneath. They saw what looked like one seamless expanse of stone, then on closer inspection they realised the floor was covered with very large, heavy flagstones.

  ‘Well that is about where the circle was indicated on the diagram,’ said Dan, pointing.

  ‘Surely what we are looking for is a kind of circular manhole cover,’ said Louise.

  ‘Yes, that would be nice, but there isn’t one,’ pointed out Dan. ‘There are just great big flagstones right across the floor.’

  ‘Are we absolutely sure we’re looking in the right place?’ asked John, scratching his chin.

  ‘Absolutely sure,’ replied Dan, so long as this map is accurate. The circle on that map would be located somewhere beneath that flagstone.’

  ‘So that’s it then,’ said Louise, looking rather dismayed, ‘nothing more we can do?’

  ‘We can do one of two things,’ said Dan. ‘We can give up, or we can try and get that flagstone up. It looks a pretty tough job but it might lever out.’

  ‘Well why don’t we try it,’ said John. ‘Cheer up Louise, it’s a lot better than finding the floor had been set in a foot of concrete. Question is, is there a suitable tool to try to lever it out? We need a really strong spade or pick axe or something.’

  They were in luck. There was a full range of garden tools, including two very tough looking, if rather rusty spades, and a pick axe, presumably dating from the time when the lighthouse had a full-time keeper. He must have had his own garden patch, although the students couldn’t imagine anything growing very successfully on that small, windswept island.

  John, being the strongest, first had a go with the pick axe but found he was unable to manoeuvre either its head or chisel edge beneath the flagstone, which had probably lain undisturbed since the lighthouse and outbuilding were built. He picked up the spade instead, his face contorting in agony as he tried in vain to lever it under the huge slab.

  ‘Let me try at the same time with the other spade,’ suggested Dan. That proved a good idea. Their combined leverage slowly did the trick and they managed to insert their spades underneath as the huge stone tablet grudgingly yielded.

  Louise looked on, finding herself rather bizarrely reminded of that first amazing night with Emma, when she had slowly but surely prised her legs apart to slip her hand between. The thought turned her on and she glanced at Emma hoping to share the moment, but Emma was absorbed in watching the boys.

  With their spades fully underneath, the job got a little easier.

  ‘Right girls,’ said John. ‘We need your help now, can you stand on the spade handles to lift the flagstone up as much as possible while Dan and I try to wrench it back.’

  The girls did so and John and Dan pulled with all their might at its edge. Neither was wearing gloves and its rough edges cut hard into their hands, making them bleed.

  ‘Aaaagh,’ yelled the pair noisily as the flagstone eventually toppled, propelling them backwards and causing th
em to fall over, much to the amusement of the girls.

  ‘It reminds me of the nursery story of the Giant Turnip,’ hooted Louise.

  The boys weren’t amused, their hands were sore and their backs hurt. But within seconds all that was forgotten as the four of them stared at the ground below. John and Dan got their spades to clear the dust and debris away and there before them, was what they had hoped for: a great circular iron lid embedded in the ground topped with an iron loop for a handle.

  John slid the head of the pick axe underneath it and tugged upwards, The lid pulled away reasonably easily, and beneath was a circular shaft disappearing into a black void. Dan shone his powerful torch into the hole. A series of iron rungs, presumably for use as a ladder, led down to the bottom.

  ‘It looks dry down there,’ said Dan. ‘We must be careful of any encroachment of sea water, but I can’t see any. The question now is how to get down, do we trust these iron rungs? They won’t have been used for a long time and if they gave way we’d be in trouble.’

  ‘There’s some rope in the storage cupboard,’ said Louise. ‘Why don’t we make it fast to somewhere and then throw it down the hole, so if the rungs start to give way, we can grab it and pull ourselves back up.’

  She went to get it and John and Dan secured it to the sturdy door handle of the outbuilding and then threw the coiled rope into the shaft.

  ‘I’ll go down first,’ said John, ‘I’m the heaviest so if the iron rungs hold my weight they’ll hold everyone’s and if not, I’ll have most strength to climb back up the rope again.’

  Fortunately, the rungs were still strong and John got down without difficulty. Dan came next, then Louise and finally Emma, who looked a little alarmed. Somehow, the prospect of actually disappearing down a black hole didn’t seem half so appealing as it had from the bright confines of the lamp room. She swallowed hard and gingerly climbed down to the ground below. Dan shone his torch all around. The tunnel they were in ended at the bottom of the shaft. There was only one direction to walk in and, as far as Dan could tell, it appeared to lead towards the shore.

  ‘Are we all ok to explore the tunnel?’ he said, noticing Emma’s frightened face.

  The others nodded. They felt a little jumpy and worried but adrenaline was pumping through them and none had any desire to turn back, not even Emma.

  ‘Come on then,’ said Dan and he began to walk along the passageway. The others followed. It was the most surreal experience of their lives. Every now and then there came an intermittent whooshing sound as they walked along.

  ‘I bet that’s the sea above!’ exclaimed John. ‘We must be under the sea bed. That’s good news, it means the tunnel should be dry because the sea is actually above us.’

  Nonetheless, they all looked nervously up at the roof as if to check it definitely was intact. The four had to walk with care along the tunnel. Its height would sometimes drop alarmingly and they would need to bend double to get through. Emma really didn’t like that.

  ‘We’re not going to get ourselves lost, are we?’ she asked.

  ‘That would be impossible,’ Dan reassured her, ‘because there are no tunnels branching off. To get back, all we need to do is to turn round and walk back the way we’ve come.’

  But then, suddenly, to their left, they saw what looked like another passage. They knew they had to be very careful now if this were to turn into any kind of labyrinth.

  ‘It may not be a tunnel at all,’ whispered Dan. ‘It might be a cave.’

  Gingerly they stepped through the gap and Dan flashed his torch around. He was right. It was a cave! Could it be the very one that Felipe, captain of the Providencia, had discovered over two centuries earlier? Could this be the place where he had stored treasure salvaged from his ship?

  CHAPTER 8

  Dan stepped into the tunnel and looked around, his powerful torch beam sweeping in all directions. ‘Don’t you others come in,’ he warned. ‘Just in case another tunnel leads off it, we must not lose our sense of direction.’

  It was good advice, and the others stayed put in the entrance. Somewhat to his disappointment, Dan saw no sign of smuggled goods, let alone any abandoned treasure lying about on the cave floor.

  ‘Let’s keep going,’ suggested Dan, rejoining them. ‘Remember that the diary entries I translated talked about two caves, one after the other – a nearer one and one further on. Let’s see if we can find the other. Of course, most probably, this wasn’t the tunnel the Spanish captain came down, we have to remember that.’

  The four of them continued to follow the path. It was a relief to find that it remained dry and reasonably easy to traverse.

  ‘Hang on,’ said Dan, suddenly, realising that he had nearly walked past another aperture without noticing it, on the opposite side. Is this another cave?’

  Again the others stood in the entrance while he walked in to look around with his torch. It certainly was another cave, slightly bigger than the first they had come to.

  There seemed to be nothing in there either, only then he noticed a big crate of some kind on the ground. it looked old, very old, it looked as if it might possibly be Spanish. It was Spanish! Dan gasped as the torchlight illuminated it. There was Spanish writing on the side. It appeared to be marked with the name Santander – that was a port not far from San Sebastian, where the Providencia had sailed from. Surely then, this was the tunnel that the Spanish captain and his crewman had used and here was part of their cargo?

  ‘What have you found, Dan?’ asked John. ‘Can we come in if I leave my jumper in the entrance, so we know which way to get out?’

  ‘Yes come on,’ said Dan. ‘Come and see what you make of this.’

  They all stared in amazement at the crate. Now all that remained was to lift up the top and peer inside. They could barely contain their excitement.

  ‘Who would like to be the one to lift up the lid?’ asked Dan.

  ‘You would, Dan. It’s thanks to your detective work we’ve got this far,’ said John promptly. The others agreed. So Dan took a deep breath and slowly prised open the lid, as gently as he could since he did not want to damage it.

  He groaned. There was nothing of value inside, save for what looked like two very old wine bottles, both of which were empty and covered in dust. Dan ran his finger through it in frustration. He got to his feet and shrugged.

  ‘Oh well, it was worth a try,’ he said.

  Emma rubbed his shoulder, sharing his immense disappointment. They all felt crushed that their high hopes had come to nothing.

  ‘Come on,’ said Louise. ‘Let’s get back to the lighthouse and get that beer we didn’t have earlier. It’s a shame but this treasure hunt has still been a fun way to spend the afternoon.’

  ‘Hang on,’ said Dan. ‘Let’s not give up straightaway. If you recall, the diary said that the ingots and coins were placed on a natural shelf in a hidden recess in the furthest cave. Well, the first cave we came to was the furthest away to Captain Felipe walking to the shore. On our way back, we ought to check it thoroughly and see if there is any part of it we have overlooked.’

  ‘But surely, whatever was here has all been plundered,’ said Louise, ‘and you shone your torch all round that cave and didn’t find anything.’

  ‘I flicked my torch around the cave and it looked empty. What we need to do now is to go round the entire perimeter, checking the walls carefully. It’s a very good sign if that shelf Felipe wrote about in his diary is easy to miss – that means there’s a still a chance that whatever he put there has never been discovered.’

  It was with fairly low expectations that they all returned to the first cave. They walked all round the perimeter, running their hands over the smooth, cold walls. Suddenly, John seemed to disappear into thin air.

  ‘Hey John, where are you?’ shouted Dan, alarmed, flashing his torch around the cave.

  ‘I’m here,’ called John. Dan walked over in the direction of his voice, still unable to see him. He gasped as he found himself s
tepping into a gap behind what was effectively a false wall – a natural rocky barrier beyond which the cave plunged several feet further.

  ‘Where are you both?’ shouted Emma, alarmed that Dan had also disappeared.

  ‘Don’t worry girls,’ came John’s muffled voice. ‘The cave is actually much bigger than we thought, there’s a hidden recess and we’re just having a quick look inside it.’

  ‘Let us come in there too,’ replied Emma, anxiously.

  John shone the torch through the gap so the girls could follow the beam.

  ‘Look Dan,’ said John, turning to him. ‘See how the wall appears to recede up there, with about a two-foot gap to the roof?’

  Dan nodded. He stretched up his arm but the gap was beyond reach.

  ‘Let me give you a leg up,’ said John and you might be able to clamber up.’

  After a couple of attempts, John managed to propel Dan onto what turned out to be a natural shelf in the rock. There was just about room to crouch. John had put both their torches down on the ground during these acrobatics, and Dan was in virtual darkness, feeling more than a little uneasy.

  John reached up and passed Dan his torch. He took it, grateful for the welcome light, and swung its beam into the shelf which went back a surprisingly long way.

  ‘Hey, there’s a wooden chest up here,’ shouted Dan. ‘I’m about to open it. But don’t get your hopes up!’

  A few agonisingly long seconds passed as the others waited impatiently below. They fell silent, save for the thump, thump, thump of their hearts, aching to know what might be inside.

  There before Dan was a chest with a domed lid held fast by small iron catches. With the torch in one hand he gingerly flicked them back and lifted the lid.

  Gold coins! Silver coins! Gold ingots! The dormant beauty of mankind’s most precious and prized metals awoke after more than two centuries in darkness. The ingots smouldered a subtle yellow but the coins yelled cheerfully at the light, as sweetly bright as the day they were minted.