Slowly appearing out of the blue-green watery fog I saw a sight that stopped me cold and left me gasping for air. My heart quickened its beat and my stomach staggered at the ghostly apparition before me. The ship-the Concepcion. It sat on the bottom, almost upright, and still-a ghostly galleon with tattered sails gently waving from masts and yardarms that looked like giant crosses rising from the deck. The creatures of the deep are now her only crew. It is a glorious thing.
I am awed and blessed that I was the one to see her. It made me feel close to God. I swam toward the magnificent cathedral only to be pulled backward. No, I thought. I have to go to her, to feel the wood of her hull, to walk her decks. I moved forward again, and again I was jerked backward. I righted myself and by happenstance looked down. There was something half covered with sand. I seized it just before I was propelled upward. I heard a voice so muffled and distant I couldn't understand the words. Slowly, not of my own volition, I ascended away from the Concepcion. I watched it disappear.
My next awareness was on the deck of the Estrella with Valerian removing the helmet and shaking me. I started to speak when someone noticed the thing I clutched in my hand. Lopez reached down and took it from me. My inclination was to hold on to it, but his was to take it. I heard gasps and exclamations. The thing I had managed to grab off the sea floor before I was snatched back to the bosom of the world above water was a large gold cross studded with sizable emeralds. The gold glinted in the sun.
The captain and Lopez simultaneously asked me where I had found it. "Where you snatched me from," I said.
That answer wasn't satisfactory to them but Bellisaro interrupted. "It would be the length of the conduit and in the direction from which Valerian pulled him back."
"Yes," I said.
"Did you see the ship?" asked Valerian.
I nodded. "It sits there as if whole and upright. It is a wondrous sight."
After Valerian walked me to our cabin and saw me safely onto my cot, he told me that he did not think that he would now have any trouble getting volunteers from among the crew.
In fact, he did not. All the crew who knew how to swim, and several who didn't, volunteered, Valerian told me later when he brought me a cup of hot soup. Bellisaro has figured the depth and the height of the sunken ship. The mainmast should be not that far from the surface. We have the idea that a man can swim down guided by the mast and take a look at the deck and main hatchway. The plan is to send the best swimmers down with the helmet. They will swim into the hold and tie ropes around the chests of treasure and we will hoist them up like cargo.
"It sounds like a good plan," I said, sipping the warm soup.
"So, my friend, how did you like it at the bottom of the sea?" he asked.
"It was quite fantastic," I said. "A world quite unlike this one."
It is, is it not?" He clapped my shoulder and left to tend to the preparations.
After relating my story to Jen, who took in all my descriptions as eagerly as he did the soup Valerian had brought him, I hurriedly write this entry in my journal. I am anxious to go back on deck. If I am lucky, I might be able to persuade Lopez to let me look at the cross I found.
Our luck seems to have turned against us. The seas have grown rougher. They now sparkle a silver gray, and a brisk breeze has come our way. Bellisaro wants to move the ship, but the captain says no. He is eager to get the treasure, and now he is using the soldiers to back him up. The helmsman must follow his orders.
Worse, when I could not find Lopez in his cabin or on the deck, the boatswain helped me look for him. We did not find him readily, but one of the crew noticed that Sancho had blood smeared on his shirt and held him for the boatswain. The boatswain and I went to where Sancho was held. He looked frightened but said the blood was from his hand, which was swollen and had started bleeding again. As the blood was on his left sleeve, the same one that held his injured hand, we did not believe him. The boatswain searched Sancho's sea chest. We were both thinking, I'm sure, about the cross. He found it wrapped in a shirt. The boatswain slapped Sancho across the face and ordered him to tell where Lopez was. He stood mute.
It did not take long for rumors to spread about the ship, agitating a crew already excited by the prospect of gold. Valerian and I helped in the search. He and an apprentice and I discovered Lopez in a stall stacked with barrels of drinking water near the hull. It was not far from where I stood not many nights ago. His head was caved in and his blood was smeared on the side of the ship.
Lopez was not a man I liked but he was not a bad man, and I felt great pity for him as we stood waiting for the captain and Father Hernando. The ship wafted harder and Valerian looked worried. "The sea grows rough. This is not good," he whispered, looking at poor Lopez. He was the second dead man I have had to deal with on board. I, of course, have seen dead men in battle, have been the one to make them dead, but deliberate murder is beyond my comprehension. Father Hernando and Captain Acosta arrived with the boatswain. As the good father prayed over him, I shook my head at the little halos of his splattered blood. Poor Lopez, for all his desires and aspirations, this was all that was left of him. I prayed for his soul. Valerian and I helped carry him up one deck to the sail master whom I watched for a second time take care of the dead.
Sancho was put in chains below deck. He yelled to all who would listen that he was innocent and he had found Lopez already dead and that is how he got blood on his sleeve. He pleaded not to be put in chains during a storm. His entreaties fell on deaf ears.
'Day L(nkno►1m
I make these entries from a shelter of canes, straw, and mud. Miraculously, my journal survived-I wonder at that when so many men did not. I was dragged ashore by the people native to this place. They have treated me well.
I cannot be the only survivor, but I am the only one here on this island. I have tried to ask about others, but they do not speak my language and I do not speak theirs.
After regaining some strength, I roamed the island looking for signs of survivors-the young pages, Valerian, Father Hernando, someone. I can't believe they are all dead. Why would I be the only one to survive? Am I blessed or cursed?
On my return from such an outing, I saw a strange sight in one of the rivers. I believe my eyes deceived me, but as my gaze rested on a ripple of water, a quite large, finned snakelike creature emerged and quickly disappeared.
Near the village, I picked up a feather from the ground and fashioned a pen. I managed after much difficulty in discourse to get from the Indians a liquid that I can use for ink. I'm not sure what it is, but I think they use it to draw designs on their bodies. I am glad for the pen and ink, for I feel the need to lay out what happened.
After seeing to the body of Lopez, Valerian and I went to our cabin. The ship's rocking had increased considerably and I wanted to wait out the rough sea. Valerian tended to Jen. The level of wind and waves did not increase any more over the course of the day or night. I foolishly thought the danger had passed. The captain, for all his bluster, had not been able to send any men down to the Concepcion because of the bad conditions, yet he would not leave this spot for fear of losing the location. I cursed the captain for being a fool.
Into the next day the wind increased and in the distance like an advancing army came a line of black clouds. Bellisaro told the captain that if he wanted to survive to spend the treasure, we would have to leave. The captain relented, perhaps seeing that the soldiers, who were not good sailors, were uncertain of his judgment.
Bellisaro's idea, I believe, was to sail past the storm and out into the open ocean, staying out of its way. But the sky quickly filled with the approaching dark clouds. It began to rain and the winds grew to such an extent that he could no longer keep up the main sails and ordered them furled. The best he could do was to turn the ship into the wind and to keep her steady.
A wave crashed over the ship and washed three soldiers overboard before they could be helped. Another wave lifted the ship, tossing her so that the yardarm dipped i
nto the ocean. I had been in a doorway and was thrown against the wall. I crawled to my cabin, believing at the time that the fewer people in the way, the better for all of us. I checked Jen, he slept soundly. Valerian had tied him to the cot. I took a piece of leather from my trunk and for what reason I don't know, perhaps I had a premonition, I wrapped my journal in it and, as best I could, bracing myself in a corner, sewed it into the inside of my clothing. Apparently, of all the things in my trunk, I held my journal the most dear.
The pitching of the ship escalated, mostly to and fro, but occasionally side to side. I remembered Valerian's words during the first storm and reckoned that Bellisaro must be having a difficult time in this one. The sound of the waves crashing over the ship, the lightning, the howling wind, and the rain were most horrendous. I left my cabin and met Valerian in the narrow corridor. "We need men to bail. One of the pumps has broken," he yelled, his words almost drowned by the terrible noise. He led me to a place where I stood in a line and passed buckets of water to the man beside me for what seemed like eternity, while Valerian went below to work on the pump. He was successful, yet we bailed for another eternity while the pumps caught up. I thought perhaps everything would be all right. Indeed it seemed to me the rocking had subsided slightly and the fearful noises were not as great as before. I was about to retreat to the cabin when the boatswain, soaked and dripping in water, grabbed my arm and told me to help with hoisting the cannons overboard.
I could not keep track of time. The clouds were so black I could not place the sun anywhere in the sky. I have no idea how long it took, or what part of the day it was when the gray ocean swallowed the last cannon.
I stood under the forecastle deck out of the blinding rain, trying to catch my breath, holding fast to the door frame lest I should fall on the slippery deck. I saw that Valerian's equipment was gone. I imagine it went over the side before the cannons. A steady line of men worked-I know not how they withstood the raging storm-bringing cargo out of the hold and tossing it over the side. I think I realized then that the ship was sinking. The pumps could not keep up with the water crashing in, or she had a leak, or something was not allowing her to stay afloat. I prayed for God to help us.
The sailors had tied ropes across and along the decks to hold on to. Across the way I saw Bellisaro giving directions. I could not hear what he said over the din of the storm, but the men fetched axes and began chopping down the masts. Lord have mercy on us, I prayed, as another wave crashed over the ship. I saw a sailor lying sprawled, his ax by his side. I made my way across the waterwashed deck to it and helped with the felling of the mainmast. I have toppled many trees on my father's estate, so this was a contribution I could make. I was thrown to the deck many times by waves hitting me from one side then another and by the lurching of the ship upon the giant seas. I don't know why I was not struck by an ax or how I failed to strike another man, but finally with a loud creak and groan, the mighty mainmast toppled over into the ocean. I went to help with the foremast. Behind me, I heard the mizzenmast fall.
We were a boat adrift and rudderless in an angry ocean, still sinking, more slowly for all our efforts, but still sinking. Waves crashed over the sides more furiously than ever as the ship sat lower in the water. I was exhausted. My ears were exhausted from the incessant noise of the wind, rain, sea, and groaning ship. I tried to shut out the sounds of screaming souls.
Bellisaro stood on the deck near the stump of the mainmast, holding on, his legs spread wide, his face contorted from yelling orders. Sailors were bringing up the anchor rope from the hold. Something else to throw overboard, I supposed, and broke in line to help carry the huge rope. Three sailors had one end of a messenger rope tied to the end of the anchor rope and they jumped in the water with it while others fed the rope over the side. Surely not, I thought. I went to the other side of the ship where men held on to the railing with wet, bleeding hands, watching for the swimmers. They were wrapping the enormous anchor rope around the ship's hull, tying the ship together with it. A desperate act, I thought, as I gave every assistance I could. The best we could hope for now was that the rope would hold the ship together and it would not break apart under the constant battering and tossing of the waves and give us time enough for the storm to pass.
But the storm would not abate, and Bellisaro gave the order to abandon ship. We had only four boats, which would carry ten men full, perhaps sixteen men overloaded, not nearly enough for the close to two hundred men on board. The sailors loosened the boats and they fell into the water. I saw Valerian for the first time in a while. He was helping Bellisaro throw the young pages into the first boat.
The captain rushed to jump over the side and into the boat. Bellisaro tried to stop him, but several soldiers threw the pilot to the deck and jumped into the boat with the captain. I only hoped the craven men would not throw the poor pages over the side. I looked at the poor young fellows huddling in the bottom of the boat as it was tossed about in the waves. I wondered if they would have been better off staying on the ship. The sailors and soldiers fought over the remaining boats.
I saw Valerian go below and I remembered poor Jen. I followed with great difficulty and fear. The servant was still tied in his bed, and sleeping. How, I wondered, could anyone sleep in this storm?
"I don't think I can get him on deck," Valerian yelled to me.
"I don't know how he could survive," I yelled back. "Look what a deep sleep he is in. I believe he is dying. At least he is far from this misery we are in now. Leave him be."
Valerian was anguished. I said a prayer for the unfortunate Jen. I believe he was beyond any of our help and perhaps better off than any of us. I pulled Valerian out of the cabin and onto the deck in time to see Bellisaro fall through the broken grate and down into the ship, followed by a flood of water from a wave that washed over us. The ship was suddenly raised high and turned over, throwing the two of us out into the ocean. I gulped in salt water and was tossed about like a wine cork. I lost sight of Valerian. Something hit me in the back and I choked, almost losing my breath. I was surely going to die, I knew. I grabbed hold of the thing that hit me. It was an overturned boat. I prayed it was not the one with the children. I tried to climb onto it, but couldn't, nor could I find a place on which to cling. I thought I was lost. I swam. I had no idea that I made any progress in the raging sea, but I determined I would try. I hit another piece of debris floating past me and clung to it as if it were gold. It was a sea chest.
My memory after that does not serve me well. I remember being in the ocean, holding and kicking, thinking of nothing but doing those two things. I think I remember washing up on the sand, but I'm not sure. My first clear memory after the storm is of Indians bringing me to this shelter and giving me food. I am grateful. Perhaps they know the way to a Spanish mission.
Chapter 29
THE DAM GROANED louder than Lindsay had ever heard it and waves crashed over the bulkheads, sending sprays of water into the interior. The extra pumps elevated the rhythmic ambient noise inside their well. It was going to be a day that tested her stress threshold, Lindsay thought, as she dug in the wet soil. The back and forth chatter was brief and focused on the excavation. Everyone worked faster and breathed harder. It started to rain and the rapid drops of water on the roof sounded like muffled gunfire. But there was no alarm.
The day reached the eleventh hour of the morning and the sudden loud blast of the siren sent a shock through Lindsay. Two blasts. The test.
"Shit," said Juliana. "That nearly gave me a heart attack."
Trey came down the stairs and stood at the edge of the excavation. "I've talked with the meteorologists. This is just a rain and some wind. The hurricane is stalled far south of here. The seas are rough, but we've had rough seas here before."
Jeff keeled over, landing with his face in the mud. The worker closest to him pulled him over on his back. Lindsay rushed to his side, pulled a bandanna out of the pocket of her cutoffs, and wiped his face. He was breathing in rapid, shallow
gasps and his heart beat fast.
"Call the Coast Guard," she yelled. "Tell them we have an emergency."
"What's wrong?" Trey asked. "What happened?"
"I don't know. Did anybody see what happened?" she called out.
"He just fell over," Gina said. "He seemed fine before."
"When help comes, they'll have to get him to the top," Lindsay said. "Can you use the timber hoist?" Trey nodded. Lindsay looked at Juliana, who was kneeling on the opposite side from her. "Go to the field desk and get the asthma spray. Bring back any other medication you find. Is he taking anything else?"
"I don't know," Juliana answered.
"Me neither," Gina and the others replied.
Juliana jumped up and ran to the desk, searching the drawers. She brought a plastic bottle of asthma spray to Lindsay.
"I've noticed that he's been a lot happier lately," Lindsay said. "Is he taking something for stress? Depression?"
"I don't know," Juliana almost shouted.
"They're on their way," Steven yelled.
"Trey, you and Juliana go to the barge and look in Jeff's room for any medication he may be taking. We have to send it with him."
"You think it's some kind of overdose?" Trey asked.
"Possibly. Please hurry."
John came down the stairway to see what was happening. The other crew stopped their work and looked on. Lindsay looked at the anxious faces. They were thinking about murder, she realized.
The paramedics came and put Jeff on a stretcher and started a standard IV. Lindsay gave them the asthma spray. "They've gone to his room to find anything else," she told them. She also explained how he had been very anxious working down inside the dam.
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