by Scotty Cade
“Look, Mac,” Brad continued. “You’re a better diver than I am, and I’ll have plenty of time to go down tomorrow. Besides, I feel more comfortable diving with you anyway.”
Mac again tried to protest, but Brad wouldn’t have any of it.
“Now get your happy butt suited up so you can go and find your husband some gold,” Brad said.
Knowing he’d lost again, Mac conceded and suited up for the dive.
“Hey, Mac,” Dax said. “How are you with a camera?”
“Fair to middling,” Mac responded. “Why?”
“Do you think you can handle an underwater camera to document our dive?” Dax asked.
“Sure, I’ll give it a shot.”
“So here’s the plan,” Dax explained. “Dona will take the lead, I’ll go in after her, and you can bring up the rear, filming the entire operation. If we find anything we can carry out safely, we’ll do it. If not, we’ll mark the spot and come in tomorrow with more salvage equipment.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Mac said.
“Dona,” Dax asked, “you okay with that?”
“A-okay, Dax,” she replied. “Can we get this show on the road?”
Jack handed each of them a high-beam underwater flashlight and, in addition, gave Mac the underwater camera and the speargun. Minutes later they were making their descent.
Jack and Brad did another radio check, then went up to the bridge to get a better view of the Russian vessel. When they reached the bridge, Jack slapped a forty-five in Brad’s hand and said, “Don’t be afraid to use it.”
Brad checked the safety and ejected the magazine to make sure the gun was fully loaded. He snapped the magazine back into the handle with the palm of his hand and put the gun in the waistband of his jeans. After they did their radio check, Jack explained to Brad that he would keep a close eye on the Russian vessel, but based on the way the wind was blowing, if they sent divers into the water from the port side of the vessel, he wouldn’t be able to see them. In addition, they had no idea how many people were on board the boat and how many were divers and how many were crew.
“I suggest we get our dive equipment ready just in case we have to go in after the guys,” Brad suggested.
“Good idea,” Jack said. “I’ll keep an eye out here if you want to take care of the equipment.”
“Will do,” Brad responded. “I’ll be back shortly,” he said over his shoulder as he exited the bridge.
Jack lifted the handset to the radio, “Bridge to Dax,” he said.
“I’m here, Jack.”
“Is everything okay down there?” Jack asked.
“So far, so good,” Dax replied. “The explosives seem to have done their job well. The hull is intact but open. I’ll fill you in on the details when we surface.”
“Roger that. Be careful, and keep an eye out for sharks,” Jack urged.
“I’ve got their backs, Jack,” Mac said.
“And we’ve got yours,” Dona added.
“It sounds like a regular love fest down there,” Jack said. “Bridge out.”
WITH Mac filming their every move, Dax and Dona completed their inspection of the blown hull, trying to locate the best entry point. From the ship’s plans, they knew that the cargo hold compartments ran midship to the engine room in the stern, and the living quarters, including the purser’s office, were forward of the cargo hold compartments into the bow. They both agreed to enter the hull at the largest strategic opening, which was port side, just aft of midship.
Dona was going to be the first person to enter the Anna Wyoming in over one hundred years. One-hundred-and-twelve years to be exact, and Dax was right behind her, with Mac getting it all on film. At the entrance of the wreck, Dona stopped and braced herself on the hull of the ship. She took a deep breath in an attempt to slow down the adrenaline flow already reaching her veins and entered the dreary, dark, watery tomb. Her heart was racing with unbridled excitement, and she could sense her twin behind her experiencing the same feelings. Over the years, they had shared with one another what they felt each time they stepped back into another world, but even if they hadn’t, she could sense his excitement, and she imagined that he could sense hers.
As they entered the ship, the interior of the hull was just as they had assumed it would be. Long, dark, narrow corridors ran bow to stern, with oval, watertight hatches every fifteen or so feet connecting the compartments. They knew that if emergency protocol had been followed, all the hatches should be securely closed. They also knew that midway through every other corridor was a hatch leading port to starboard, and those were the hatches that would lead them to the cargo holds.
The beams of their flashlights weren’t strong enough to see any farther than fifteen feet or so, but they’d studied the plans so extensively that they didn’t need any illumination to know where they were going. Moving her flashlight around as she went, Dona felt her way along the first corridor, heading toward the bow. She approached the first hatch connecting the narrow corridors.
They’d strategically placed the explosives along the hull to make sure that every compartment would be flooded, but they had no way of knowing if they had succeeded until they actually opened the hatch. Dona braced herself against the hull for leverage and attempted to turn the wheel on the hatch.
The hatch opened into the next corridor, so if for any reason the cabin on the other side of the door had not been flooded, the vacuum pressure and the rush of water could be deadly, depending on the size of the compartment and how long it took to flood.
“Damn it, the wheel won’t budge,” Dona said as she struggled to get it to turn.
“Let me have a shot at it,” Dax said. “I’ll go up, you go down.”
In order to change places in the tiny corridor, Dona floated herself to the floor and eased back in the direction from which she’d come while Dax hovered above and took her place.
Dax handed Dona his flashlight and removed a crowbar attached to his dive belt. He locked the crowbar into the opening of the round, valve-like handle and braced himself just as Dona had done. He used all his strength and leverage, and little by little the handle started to turn.
“Here we go—brace yourselves,” Dax said. “It’s opening.”
Dona and Mac braced themselves as best they could as Dax forced the hatch to the next compartment to open. The wheel stopped turning, which meant it was completely open, but nothing happened. Dax slid his crowbar back into his dive belt as Dona handed him his flashlight. “Here goes nothing,” he said as he gave the door a gentle push.
The door opened with surprisingly little effort, and a fish darted through the opening and ran right into Dax’s mask.
Dax squealed. Dona laughed and said, “Sissy.”
“It just surprised me,” he replied in an angry tone.
“Uh-huh,” she said.
He pushed the door open and peered inside. Again, Dona took the lead and swam past him, through the hatch and into the small corridor.
Suddenly she stopped. Dax heard her gasp for breath.
“Dona, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” he asked.
“Oh my God, Dax, look,” she said as she pointed to the floor of the corridor.
Dax looked down where Dona was hovering and a small gasp left his lips as well. Lying on the floor of the corridor, untouched for over a hundred years, were two perfectly intact skeletons, seemingly locked in an embrace.
“They must have known the end was near,” Dax said. “But it appears that whatever happened to this ship must have happened pretty quickly, that these people didn’t have a chance to get topside.”
Dona moved her flashlight over the skeletons, but quickly stopped when something reflected off the beam of her flashlight. Still around the neck of one of the skeletons was a gold chain of some sort, with a medallion attached. On further investigation, the other skeleton was found to be wearing the same medallion. In addition, each left hand wore what appeared to be a gold band around their ring finger.
“Do you think they were married to each other?” she asked.
“We’ll never know,” Dax said.
Jack had heard the gasps from the surface and his voice quickly invaded their ears. “What’s going on down there, guys?” he asked. “Are you okay?”
“We’re fine, Jack, just a couple of skeletons. Not unexpected or the first time we’ve seen them, but they always seem to draw the same reaction from both of us every time we encounter them.”
“Okay, just know your conversations are being monitored very closely,” Jack said. “If you need anything, I’m here.”
“We know, Jack, thanks!” They were aware that Jack’s statement was a reminder that they might not be the only one hearing their conversation.
Dona and Dax moved very cautiously over the bones, trying their best not to disturb the couple’s final resting place. Mac did the same, but paused overhead to get a quick shot in hopes that someday they might be identified by the medallions or rings.
Dona approached the second hatch and was able to open this one on her own. She opened it, and Dax took the lead this time.
He moved his flashlight in every direction; there were human remains strewn all about this corridor. Dax assumed that more remains were in this corridor because it had access to the cargo hold hatch, and people were probably trying to get topside.
“More remains,” he said to himself as much as to Dona and Mac. “Be careful.”
He felt certain that the hatch leading to the interior of the ship, and hopefully the cargo hold, would be just ahead on his right, but as he inched along slowly, he was amazed that after so many years, this corridor was much more pristine, compared to the last.
“So many remains,” Dona said, looking around. “And it’s so odd the way they’re spread all around, compared to the way they were in the other corridor.”
“From the looks of it, I’ll bet this cabin wasn’t flooded until we detonated the explosives,” Dax said. “The force of the flooding must have disturbed the remains.”
He suddenly felt very responsible for upsetting the final resting place of so many people. He bowed his head and said a silent prayer for the people who’d lost their lives so tragically, and then continued forward. He felt his way along the inside wall, looking for any signs of the hatch, but still nothing.
“Mac, are you getting all of this?” Dax asked.
“Everything,” Mac responded.
Suddenly the door came into view, and it was, amazingly, right where it should have been.
“There it is,” Dax said.
“I see it,” Dona replied.
“Me too,” Mac added.
Dax again braced himself and placed his hands on the wheel and attempted to turn it. Much to his surprise, it turned with no problem.
Then a thought occurred to him. He stopped turning and froze.
“What is it, Dax? Why did you stop?” Dona asked.
“What if the interior compartment is not flooded?” he said. “Mac, close the hatch behind us.”
“What, are you crazy?” Mac asked, starting to feel a little claustrophobic. “We’ll be locked in.”
“No, seriously, close the hatch and secure it,” Dax insisted.
“Why? What if we need to get out of here in a hurry?” he asked.
“It’s just a hunch,” Dax said. “But if it’s not flooded, we might be able to protect whatever is in there from the onslaught of the water pressure.”
“Okay, let’s just say we close the hatch behind me and we open the cargo hatch and it’s not flooded. How will we get out?” Mac asked.
“It’ll be tricky,” Dax said. “But if we close the cargo hatch behind us when we exit and then reopen the corridor hatch, the small corridor will again flood. It’ll be crazy for a second until everything stabilizes, but it shouldn’t be that bad.”
Again they heard Jack’s voice come over the radio, this time a little more frantic. “Don’t take any unnecessary risks, Dax Powers,” he said. “Let the damn cargo hold flood, and do your job.”
“Jack, if the cargo hold is not flooded, we may have a chance to preserve whatever else is in there,” Dax pleaded.
“You have no idea if there is anything else in there. Why risk your lives?” Jack asked.
“Okay, let’s do it,” Mac said.
“I’m in,” Dona said.
“Damn it, Dax,” Jack said. “If you don’t die down there, you’ll die up here when I get my hands on you.”
“I know, Jack,” Dax said. “I love you too.”
Mac closed the hatch behind him and turned the wheel until it was tight. He swam over and joined Dax and Dona at the interior hatch. Dax began to slowly turn the wheel again. Then he stopped once more. “Okay, once I release the lock, the pressure should force the hatch to open, and the water will rush from the corridor into the cargo hold until it levels out. Hold on, and try to remain on your feet. If all goes well, we’ll be left standing in shin-deep water,” he said.
Dax gave the wheel one last turn. The pressure forced the wheel of the hatch right out of his hands and within seconds the corridor was almost empty. “It’s not flooded!” Dax yelled.
“Oh my God, we did it!” Mac added.
They were now standing in shin-deep water and suddenly feeling every pound of the weight from their dive equipment.
“We’ve got to make this quick,” Dax said. “I’m sure there’s no oxygen in the compartment, and we don’t have a hell of a lot left in our tanks. If we find anything worth preserving, we’ll close the hatch back up and make another dive. If we don’t find anything but the gold, we can flood the compartment to make it easier for us to maneuver and salvage. The water certainly won’t hurt the gold.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Dona said.
“Agreed,” said Mac.
Chapter 12
DAX waved his flashlight into the cargo hold and started looking around. He immediately spotted wooden crates stacked in the center of the compartment. There’s more gold here than we thought, he said to himself. He quickly did an inventory on the number of crates in the hold, ten across, by ten deep, by five high. He did the math, that’s five hundred crates.
Dona and Mac helped Dax awkwardly step through the small hatch from the corridor into the ankle-deep water of the cargo hold. Fighting his swim fins and the weight of his tanks, he slowly wobbled over to the stack of crates. He again used his crowbar to dig into the seal of one of the wooden crates. The crates were brittle and weak from age and it took him only seconds to pry one open. The anticipation was killing him, but when he finally lifted the lid, he found six perfectly preserved, one-gallon aluminum cans. He used his glove to wipe away whatever sediments had accumulated over the last hundred years and read the label: “Salted Fish.”
“What the fuck?” he said out loud.
“What?” Dona and Mac said at the same time.
“Salted fucking fish!”
He quickly opened the next crate and again found the same contents.
“This is so unfair,” Jack said from the surface. “What in the fuck is happening down there?”
“We found enough salted fish to feed a third world country for a very long time,” Dax said.
“Is that all there is in the hold?” Jack asked.
“It appears to be, at least in this compartment,” Dax replied.
He quickly moved his flashlight around the walls of the compartment.
“There are three more hatches, one facing forward, one aft, and one starboard,” Dax said.
He knew the starboard door led to the same type of corridor as they had just vacated, and was more than likely flooded from the explosives. He awkwardly maneuvered toward the aft-facing hatch. He stopped in his tracks when he spotted another set of remains, resting in a sitting position on some sort of crate tucked away in the corner. Dax studied the remains, starting at the skull and shoulders. “He must have been some sort of officer,” he said. “Look at the gold epaulets resting on his
shoulders.”
He moved the flashlight further down the skeleton and froze; resting between two ribs was a gold nametag. Dax kneeled down to see if he could get a better look at the name without disturbing the tag. It read, “Boris Smirnov, Ship’s Purser.”
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Dax whispered.
“What?” Dona asked.
He didn’t answer right away, but moved his light further down. Lo and behold, tightly clutched in the boney hands of the purser, were two shiny gold bars.
“Eureka!” Dax whispered. “Guys,” he said as he held the flashlight on the prize. “Do you see what I see?”
“Oh boy, do I see,” Dona said. “Mac?”
“Hell yeah, I see,” he replied. “I think we may have found what we’ve been looking for, ladies and gentlemen.”
Dax continued moving the light further down and stopped again when he saw, between the skeleton’s legs, the dial to a safe. The purser is sitting on a fucking safe.
“We’re listening, Dax, what did you find?” a familiar voice said from the surface.
“I hear you, Jack. Uh, we found the rest of the purser’s journals,” he said, being as discreet as possible.
Everyone heard Brad yelling in the background.
“How many?” Jack asked over Brad’s voice.
“Just a couple,” Dax replied. “But I’m sure the rest are here somewhere.”
“How’s your air supply?” Jack asked.
“Getting low,” Dax said. “We’re going to surface, change tanks, get more supplies, and get right back down here.”
“We’ll be waiting,” Jack said. “Be careful.”
Dax made a last-minute decision and gently removed the two epaulets and the nametag from the remains of the ship’s officer, and tucked them into a pocket on his weight belt. It’s only right that I do whatever I can to get these personal effects into the hands of a family member. Next, he removed the two gold bars and placed them securely inside his BC and started slowly making his way back to the corridor. Again, Mac and Dona helped him through the small hatch, and he secured it behind him.