by Lisa Grace
Hung over the library shelves, weighted down on the edges by books, was a map of the coast of Costa Rica.
“I used the electron microscope at work to look at the layers under the dirt and wear and tear on the map.”
“Here. History records Mary Welch recalled a cedar tree as having marked the spot. She said they spent six months camping out by the tree. I’m sure she was right. We can take soil samples from two or three feet down and find where the tree most likely was.”
Julian interjected, “So we’ll need a mini lab.”
Keiko nodded her head while she kept talking. “I did some digging, and found a group of men who went hunting for the treasure back in the seventies. They kept the map hidden from the captain and insisted on finding the ‘five rocks.’ The captain had no idea what they were talking about. He’d never seen five rocks. I figured out why.”
“Why?” Julian asked as he lightly stroked Keiko’s back.
“Because captains only take boats out during high tides. Most dock areas get too shallow at low tide to allow boats with big drafts out. The men he was taking out were not familiar with tides, so they never thought to specify they needed to go out at low tide. Years later, the captain saw the rocks during the low tide, but couldn’t remember where the stones were in relation to where the treasure would be. Plus, he couldn’t find the men he’d originally taken out as they’d been highly secretive and had not supplied their names or nationalities.”
“Checking further, I found other references to five huge stones, the size of small houses, that the tides bury. The tips are only available during the lowest tides.”
“So timing is important.”
“Right! Which is why I wanted to delay our honeymoon until there would be a full moon causing the low tides. Now when I heard the rumors of the rocks from the expedition which took place during the seventies, I looked closer at the map for signs of the rocks. Here look at this picture I took with the electron microscope from a different magnification level.”
Julian squinted at the photo. “I see what appears to be three erase marks where the volcanic rocks as big as houses would be, just off the shoreline.”
“Exactly! Only three! It confirms it’s an island with three boulders off the shore, not the one with five. This confirms what I’ve suspected all along. The searchers and pirates have been looking on the wrong island, and looking for the wrong landmarks. They were looking for five, and if they found them, they were still on the wrong island.”
“So you’re sure now which island off the coast we should be looking at?”
Keiko looked triumphant. “Yes, I am. And that’s why the two of us are going to find the treasure when no one else could.”
“Which island?”
“Look at the original.”
“My copy of the original says, ‘Cocos Island.’”
Keiko nodded her head in agreement. “Yes, it does now. When I examined it under the electron microscope and looked a few layers deeper—look at what was carefully scratched out and marked over.”
Julian looked at the photo of what Keiko had seen through the microscope.
“It says, ‘Caño.’”
“Exactly. All this time everyone’s been looking on the wrong island, and there was no way to know.”
“All we have to do is take a ride around the island at low tide, look for the three markers, and find the most likely location of the old cedar tree to orient it to the map, matching it with the coordinates.”
“Julian, we can find this treasure, I’m sure of it!”
Julian nodded his head. “Don’t get your hopes up too high. Someone else may have already found it and our time, outside of our room, could be a waste of time.”
Keiko shook her head, “No, it’s got to be there still. I’m sure of it. You can’t just move three hundred and fifty tons of treasure without it being noticed.”
“I wouldn’t bet against you. You’ve got great instincts for this kind of thing. But all the soldiers on Graham’s ship would have known where the stuff was buried, and anyone of them could have drawn a map or told the wrong person, and the whole treasure could have been carted away and melted down.”
“Yes, that could have happened. But since the crew was killed or sent to Tasmania for the crime of piracy, how likely is it any of them made it out of the penal colony, then saved enough money to come back to the place where their freedom was taken away? I guess theoretically someone could have.”
Julian nodded, “Yes, which is why I’m saying let’s go out there with an open mind. The treasure could be long gone.”
“Sure. You’re right. It could be, but it’s not.”
Julian just shook his head. “You’re the one with a one track mind.”
Keiko laughed, “Really?” she came up and hugged Julian, “Then tell me what I’m thinking now.”
Julian kissed Keiko long, slow, and passionately. After, she whispered, “Mind reader.”
***
1818 Mary Welch the Next Morning
She packed her best day dresses and threw in some shawls and a coat, a knit hat, and a proper hat to go over it, plus several scarves to hold her hat on. She went to her art room, and took down several painting smocks to wear over her dresses for when she was working. She packed her thickest wool coat for when the wind kicked up. The cold could cut right through your clothes. She knew this from experience. When she was younger, she would take a small skiff to go sailing with the boys—before it was forbidden—and the salty seaspray was cold.
“Magdela!”
“Yes miss?”
“Pack a bag of clothes for yourself, and do not disturb mother. We have an errand to run on her behalf.”
Mary held up the letter. She knew it was wrong to lie, but if she didn't Magdela would tell on her, and her chance would be blown.
“This letter says Mother's medicine is held up in the next town over. We are to catch the ship, pick up the medicine, and return.”
“Hurry, Vamanos!”
Magdela bowed her head “Si senorita, vamonos. Pack a bag, pick up medicine. Si, I understand.”
Mary stopped packing, and went down the hallway to her mother's room.
She knocked lightly on the door then quickly entered. Her mother was lying on her bed with the window open to catch the breeze, though the sheers were drawn to soften the sunlight. A bucket was on the floor by the head of the bed.
“Mother? I know you are not feeling well. Magdela and I are going into town. I have received a letter from Mr. Upham.”
“Was that him in the parlor?”
“Yes, Mama. He told me of a new medicine for easing your discomfort. I am going into town to pick it up. Do not worry about me. You know I love you and Papa.”
She leaned over and brushed the damp hair off her Mother's brow and gave her a gentle kiss on her forehead.
“Go on. You are a good girl.”
“If it gets too late, I will stay at Jane's, with Magdela. Do not worry about us. We will be fine.”
Her mother just nodded. The nausea with this pregnancy had been near constant. Any movement would make the retching begin.
Mary left the room. Her plan was in motion. No one should be checking for her until the morning. She had left a note addressed to her parents on her pillow.
She was on her way to having an adventure! Now the hard part. Talking her way onto the ship. She finished packing all her paper, canvas, oil pencils, paints, turpentine, rags, and charcoals. Her supplies took up two whole trunks. Dresses, boots, and aprons took up three more.
She went to find Pedro to let him know one of the other servants would have to wait on Mama as she was taking Magdela with her. Pedro loaded her trunks onto a horse drawn cart. “Deliver the trunks to the HMS Devonshire, on behalf of Mr. Welch,” she said stressing the ‘Mr.’ “Here is a letter to hand to the boat docking master.”
Magdela showed up carrying a bundle tied on the end of a stick, with a coat thrown over her arm.
“Si, ready?”
“Si.” Mary smiled as she waited for the groomsman to open the door to the waiting carriage that would transport her and Magdela to the soon departing ship.
***
Aboard The HMS Devonshire that Morning
“Randall,” Captain Graham called out to his first officer, “I have decided to plan our course for the coastline this afternoon. If M. Welch the painter doesn’t show up by this afternoon, please send an escort to bring him onboard, forcibly, if need be. Make sure his hands are not hurt, and he has all the necessary supplies for a month’s voyage brought onboard. I plan to leave shore at first light on the morrow. See to it he has his own room, and do not disturb me for any reason.”
“Yes sir.”
Captain Graham gestured for Randall to leave his state room, so he did.
As Randall walked along the balustrade of the upper deck, he heard a commotion down on the dock. A woman’s voice was raised and she seemed to be arguing with the guard on duty. Randall hurried down to see what the commotion was.
“Sir,” The guard was interrupted by the lady whose voice he’d heard from above.
“Sir? Are you the captain? I’m here to see the captain. I demand to see him now.”
She was young and beautiful. Raven black hair pulled up and decorated with her own tresses tied in a braid. He just stopped and stared. Her dress, a blue too bright and gaudy to have been worn back home in England suited her perfectly in this tropical paradise. A color less bright, would have looked austere. The material spoke of wealth, as did her demanding attitude. She reminded him of someone he knew well.
“I have a letter from the captain insisting I report for duty.”
The young soldier at his guard post tried to keep a straight face and almost succeeded.
Randall himself had a hard time keeping the corners of his mouth down.
“May I see the letter? I am Captain Bennett Graham’s First Officer, Randall Cullen. I may be able to help.”
Mary held out the letter. Her hands were bare so her long delicate fingers were visible. A lone ring with a sizable stone adorned her right hand. A beautiful ornament on a lovely graceful woman.
He read the letter. “You are M. Welch?”
“Yes, I am. And I have brought my Chaperone, Ms. Magdela, to accompany me.”
“You do understand we were under the impression M. Welch was a man. Of course, we will let you out of this contract, as now we realize you—” he looked her up and down, “are not.”
“No, no! You are not getting out of this agreement so easily. I have brought a chaperone, and I am honor bound to use my artistic talent for the King.”
At this the young soldier standing at attention guffawed out loud. Randall gave him a stern look and he fell back into his alert stone like stance.
Randall reached out and took her by the elbow gently steering her out of the hearing of the young soldier.
“May I be honest?”
“But of course, as long as I may be honest back.”
“Why on earth would a beautiful thing like you want to come on a ship full of barely tamed men? Where are your parents? We are to survey the coast in a dangerous area bursting with pirates. A warship is no place for a young lady. You should be at home attending parties, being courted by young men. Not risk being felt up or worse by uncouth sailors who do nothing but lust after women the many months they are at sea.” He’d chosen his words to make her blush. Instead, it only seemed to anger her.
“I will be honest back. I assume the officers and my chaperone intend to keep my honor safe. I expect more from British soldiers of the Royal Navy. I would hate for word to get back to King George that you would think of mistreating someone in his service. I have been asked to employ my talent of painting in service to the King, and nothing would please me more. I have spent my whole life on Costa Rica, and I am ready to do something more than be a play toy at parties and balls. I think you should take me to your captain and let him decide.”
Randall sighed. “He has put out orders not to be disturbed, for any reason.”
“Oh yes, Mr. Upham had mentioned he was the commanding type. Well then it serves him right.”
“Yes,” Randall smiled with a twinkle in his eye, “yes it does.”
Randall shouted to another soldier at the top of the plank. “Get Ms. Welch and her chaperone’s bags. Show them to one of the guests’ staterooms.”
“Yes sir.”
Randall turned back to Mary, “Do you have all your supplies?”
“Yes, they are in two of those trunks. The other three contain my clothes.”
“Traveling light, I see,” he said dryly.
“How long will we be gone? Should I have packed more?” Ms. Welch had a worried look on her face.
“We do have wash days. I was being humorous. We do expect to survey at least a month on this coast, at which point we will come back to port for supplies, and if the Captain is pleased, to deliver you safely home. Otherwise, you may have to walk the plank.” He winked.
Mary smiled. “Lieutenant Cullen?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you,” Mary flashed him a genuine smile, which made his heart melt. It was almost worth all the hell he knew he was going to have to pay for letting her aboard. But it wasn’t often he was able to get one over on Captain Graham, and this pretty little joke would be a good one for retelling on the long journey home. He would plead, “Orders were orders.” She had hers, and he had his. Served Bennett right. And if the scenery wasn't pleasant enough on this voyage, the diversion she provided would be.
***
Captain Graham looked at the antiquated map he had used to get to the port. Except for the two larger islands, Isla del Cocos and Isla del Caño, the others weren't even present. Talking to locals he had found there were several. Possibly a dozen or more. How could merchant ships even attempt to keep safe from pirate attacks if they did not even know where the enemy was coming from?
The mountains ran all the way to the coast, providing coves and caves guarded by rocky promontories which were the perfect places for criminals to hide. If he could catch the pirates unawares, say trapping them in the caves at a high tide, he could use cannon fire to shatter the rocks above their hiding places, sealing them in or at the very least, trapping their vessels. The very rocks providing cover could be turned into shoals which would tear a ship apart. Now, how to approach the islands. Should he head north first, and then swing south, or vice versa? Cocos Island was their most infamous hideout so ‘twas best to start on the ends of the coast and circle the main isle last. He needed to know where to circle. The pirates were coming from Africa, Portugal, and Spain. They would be more familiar with the northern part of the coast than he. Would it be possible to catch some pirates unaware on one of the smaller islands, then bribe them to disclose the lay of the land? This might be the wisest course of action.
Many scenarios ran through Captain Graham’s head, and he would prepare mentally for each one. Mentally walking through what could be done in each case. He knew no matter how well he prepared he was, the unforeseen would arise, and that was the danger. Not to have thought of everything. He was a man who liked to be prepared. He had almost two hundred and fifty men’s lives at stake. They were his responsibility.
Storms, a disabled ship, winds, the water supply...but what was the unforeseen circumstance that could be his undoing?
***
The next morning his cabin boy roused him before the break of dawn. “Sir, are we to cast off at the next watch?”
“Yes, yes, I’ll be on deck shortly.”
A few minutes later the cabin boy returned with a tray containing toasted bread, butter, jam, fruit and coffee. He dressed, partook of his breakfast, and headed for the deck.
The men unfurled the sails, brought in the lines, and cast off to the orders of the captain relayed by Randall, his first officer. They were on their way as the first beams of sunlight peaked over the long expanse of oc
ean water on the far side of the bay, hitting the polished oak planks of the deck. The surveyors took out their sextants and measuring equipment. The first part of the journey and recording was under way. The Royal Navy surveyors glanced through pieces, peered at the horizon, then measured and marked down their calculations. It was a fine start to an auspicious day. The deck was quiet except for the occasional barking out of course correction, and the calls of the surveyors as they double checked and positioned themselves properly. Lookouts scanned the horizon through spy glasses for any sign of pirates or anything out of the ordinary. He spied one of the giant magnificent red birds in full flight through his spyglass, reminding him the painter had plenty to document and may as well start on his commission.
When Captain Graham had a moment to relax, he looked at his timepiece and spoke, “Officer Cullen.”
“Yes sir!”
“Where is Mr. Welch? We've been under way for more than an hour. I would like to make his acquaintance and go over his duties. I hope he is not a waste about. I expect him to be on deck at sunrise when the birds and the great beasts of the sea are most active.”
“Well, there is an unexpected development.”
“Is he onboard?”
“Yes, but—”
“Bring Mr. Welch to me at once.”
Randall could barely contain his smile until he was out of the Captain's sight. He was looking forward to Captain Graham's and Ms. Welch's meeting. He knocked on her stateroom door.
“Ms. Welch? The captain would like to see you on deck.” Ms. Magdela opened the door. “The lady make dress. She will be up in an hour.”
“The captain will see her—now,” Randall replied politely.
“The captain will not see her now, Ms. Welch dress, time to dress!” Ms. Magdela then slammed the door in his face.
This was not a circumstance Randall had encountered before. What would he tell the captain? He went back up the stairs and onto the deck.