Muriel and Doug were there, sitting together in the lee of the wheelhouse and talking. Seeing them caused a spasm of white-hot jealousy in Andrew but he was so stung he just turned and fled. He made his way back down to his cabin and flung himself on his bunk. For the next hour or so he lay there writhing in jealous agony.
Just before midnight the main engines rumbled into life and soon afterwards Andrew felt the launch moving astern. She then swung round and he had to satisfy his curiosity and go on deck. They were leaving Wheeler Reef and Dave told him they were now heading for Cape Upstart. “Be there by six tomorrow, unless the weather gets worse.”
It was still blowing quite strongly and as they moved out from the limited shelter of the reef the launch began to roll sharply in a beam sea. That was most uncomfortable and even sometimes scary but Andrew enjoyed it. It at least drove Doug and Muriel in under cover. She gave Andrew a guilty look and a sickly smile before scuttling below. Doug ignored him and stayed to make a cup of coffee.
Andrew made his way back down to his bunk and wedged himself in, that being necessary as the launch was swooping and rolling sharply over quite high waves. The motion initially alarmed Andrew but he soon grew used to it and, despite his jealous misery, slipped into a deep sleep.
*******
There was a bad dream in the night, one that caused Andrew to sit bolt upright, gasping and sweating. All he could remember of it was that he was diving at night and another diver had grabbed his wrist. Thinking to help and reassure the diver he put his own hand over the other diver’s only to feel nothing but wet bones. He lifted his torch beam and saw that the other diver’s face was a hideously grinning skull!
Sleep did not come easily after that. For an hour or so Andrew lay awake, brooding over whether Muriel liked him at all, and over whether he liked her! He thought he did, and he knew he was hurt and jealous, but was honest enough to admit that might have more to do with injured pride than with love.
Unable to sleep he went to the toilet, then on deck. In the saloon he found the middle-aged local sitting up reading, looking drawn and anxious. The weather had not improved and the launch was still rolling sharply, butting its way across an almost beam sea with sometimes sickening lurches. Outside all that was visible was a vast area of tumbling waves. The waves were rolling in from the South East in long, parallel lines.
So unexpected was one vicious twist of the rolling boat that Andrew almost lost his balance going back down to his cabin. He was flung heavily against a bulkhead and only just managed to stay on his feet. He found it a relief to hoist himself back into his bunk, but then had to brace himself against the motion. Eventually physical tiredness came to his rescue and he fell into a deep sleep.
It was a change in the motion of the launch that woke him. Now they were pitching more than rolling, and the motion was much less extreme. Andrew looked out of the port hole and saw that the waves were definitely smaller. It was still dark but he made his way up and looked out through the cabin door. To port were just tumbling waves but to starboard he thought he detected a darker line which might be land. By leaning out and looking ahead he saw the black outline of a rugged mountain range a few miles ahead and knew he was right.
‘Cape Upstart,’ he decided after a study of the chart pinned to the lounge bulkhead. Feeling sure he would not be able to sleep he sat and watched the sky to the east slowly turning grey. The middle-aged local was awake and looking out as well and they chatted for a while. Andrew learned that he was a primary school teacher and that he was doing his Basic Open Water Diving Course.
Dave and Sub Lt Sheldon climbed down from the wheelhouse (the instructors slept on the sun deck aft of the wheelhouse) and made themselves cups of coffee, then stood and chatted while looking out. When the first pink glow was showing on the eastern horizon they made their way forward to the focsle. Andrew went with them, staying on the starboard side of the cabin to get the benefit of its shelter. By then the mountains ahead were being bathed with a faint pink sheen, brighter at the top, and Andrew was surprised at how big they were, and how rugged. They appeared to be just one vast jumble of huge granite boulders, with rough scrub growing between them. The seaward slopes were steep cliffs.
As the launch moved into the lee of the cape the wind died away and with it the waves. It fascinated Andrew to note that what he had been taught in Geography about wave patterns actually happened. The waves refracted around the tip of the cape so that they curved into the bay behind the cape but they also lost height and force as they did. However this meant they were beam on the launch’s progress which set her rolling sharply again.
This didn’t bother Andrew and he watched with interest as the launch was conned to a point about a hundred metres out from a small cove with a tiny sandy beach. There was a much bigger and more sheltered bay just around the next headland further in and he did wonder why they did not go there, but then shrugged. ‘This must be where the wreck is,’ he decided.
An enquiry to Dave after the anchor had been let go confirmed this. Dave pointed out to sea. “Just as well we found this wreck. It is still much too rough out there for us to have dived on the Yongala.”
This point was reinforced by him half an hour later when the Trip Director briefed all of the divers in the lounge, they having been routed from the their bunks. “We could have got you in the water and down to the wreck of the Yongala,” he explained. “But we would never have been able to get you safely back on board.”
Andrew pictured the stern of the launch rising and falling two or three metres, the water surging through the ladder and swirling around the transom and rudders and could only shudder and agree. It would be very easy to get injured in those circumstances.
Some of the tourists, having come half-way round the world to dive on the Yongala, expressed their obvious disappointment but they all had to agree that safety came first. One of the Englishmen then asked, “Do you know the name of this wreck, or any of its history?”
The Trip Director shook his head. “No. We only found it a month ago. We have dived on it twice and cleared away some fishing nets and lines to remove snags but we are still researching to find out the details.” He then gave them the technical details, which confirmed what Andrew already knew: a small steel fishing boat or coaster with a single deck and the remains of a timber wheelhouse; a single mast, now broken off and lying over the starboard side; three hatchways or companionways and all open and with no covers or doors.
He added, “On this first dive the Advanced Course are going to do a deep dive to thirty metres and end up at the wreck, which is in only twelve metres. The Open Water Course will do a dive inshore to look at the rocks and marine life around the cove, ending at the wreck. Neither group is to attempt to enter the wreck, not even to stick your head in a hatchway. On their second dive, after a safety briefing, the Advanced Course will be allowed to enter the wreck under supervision. OK, now suit-up and let’s get diving.”
To Andrew’s own surprise he found he was keen to get into the water. The idea of seeing a real shipwreck under water really gripped his imagination. Out on the dive deck he peeled off his shirt and tugged on his wet suit, noting as he did that Muriel was still wearing her revealing bikini. Now he just enjoyed the view, looking as much as he liked with her not apparently concerned. The sight got him a bit horny but by then he was in the wet suit and didn’t care. There was still deep anxiety but he was able to push that to the back of his mind.
All the checks of straps and air pressure and so on went quickly as almost routine and within ten minutes they were jumping into the water. When it came to his turn Andrew barely hesitated. He was still scared but even that had become part of the routine- so in he went, heart in mouth. The sea was a dull grey colour still as the sun, while just above the horizon, was obscured by a band of cloud. Expecting visibility to be very poor Andrew was pleasantly surprised to be able to see all the way to a sandy bottom.
The safety boat had been launched and the Trip Di
rector and another instructor went off in it seawards, testing depths with a hand line. At the 30 metre mark they dropped the anchor of a dive buoy. They then headed back inshore and began taking bearings with a hand compass. Andrew understood what they were doing, trying to position themselves over the wreck. When they were in the right spot they anchored the boat and both went into the water to check.
The float was the objective of the Advanced Course so Andrew waited till Muriel was ready, then swam with her out to it. Swimming so far from land- 200 metres at least, got him very anxious and he wished he hadn’t overheard one of the others say that Cape Upstart was notorious for big sharks. That got him anxiously scanning the surface for the trademark fins. It also made bobbing around the dive float a tense few minutes.
‘I’m not enjoying this,’ he thought, then wondered how people could do it for pleasure.
Dave, Doug and Sub Lt Sheldon joined them and the group was briefed on the need to regulate their ascents and revised on how long safety stops should be at various depths to allow nitrogen to disperse from their bloodstream. Next they set their compasses to aim at the safety boat, just visible two hundred metres away. Then, satisfied they were ready, Dave gave the signal to go down.
Andrew felt safer going under. Now he could see better, he thought he would have a better chance of seeing any shark before it attacked, even though he kept thinking of the gloomy diver’s lore that said that you never see the one that gets you!
What really struck him was how isolated he felt out there in ocean where no rocks or coral were visible- just blue water all round. It made him appreciate that thin cord running down from the float to its anchor and he emotionally clung to it as he went down. They did this slowly, stopping every five metres and the instructors checking that everyone was able to equalize and that there were no problems. At each stop they had to check their dive computers and report both their depth and their remaining air.
The bottom appeared at last and they settled slowly on it in a line. Here there was another check. As he knelt there Andrew looked up, watching his bubbles streaming up towards the rippling silver ceiling. Now it did seem a long way and he felt his chest tighten with anxiety. Suddenly it seemed harder to breathe and he became very conscious of the fact that only that regulator in his mouth was allowing himself to do so. The sound of his breathing seemed to him to very noisy and he was suddenly gripped by an intense desire to rip off the equipment and swim as fast as he could for the surface.
That alarmed him and he became agitated and started breathing very fast. His mind told him to stop but fear gripped him and he had to look at the others for help. Seeing Dave coming along checking for Oks was a real help.
‘Calm down, or you will drown!’ he chided himself. With an effort he held the regulator in his mouth and slowed his breathing. A thin trickle of water had been leaking into his mask and that annoyed him so he leaned his head back, pressed the top of the mask to his forehead and blew through his nose. Then he went back to kneeling and getting ready to signal OK to Dave.
Then it came to him. ‘It works! The training works!’ he thought, realizing how he had just cleared his mask without even thinking about it. That calmed him as well and he was able to read the depth on his gauge- 29 metres. ‘I have to go down one more,’ he thought. 30 metres was the safety limit for divers with the training he had. So, when he had signalled Dave and they began to swim along, Andrew made a short detour and went right down to touch the sand till his gauge read 30. Feeling immensely pleased with himself he rejoined the others as they began slowly finning on a compass course back towards the shore.
It took them twenty minutes to cover the 200 metres. Along the way they stopped twice for five minutes each time. Once was almost under the launch and it cheered and fascinated Andrew to see the black silhouette of its hull and the long thread of its anchor chain. During all of this he remained close beside Muriel and made sure he was swimming in the middle of the group. The whole time he kept looking anxiously in all directions for sharks.
Andrew knew he was still scared and thought, ‘This is the last time I am ever going diving! I am certainly not taking it up as a sport!’
Once a ray of some indeterminate sort flitted past but apart from a few silvery-grey fish, they saw no other marine life. The bottom was just sand. But now Andrew became excited and interested. He was really keen to see the wreck and he kept peering ahead.
As he swam slowly along it suddenly came to him that he was able to do all the skills needed for safe diving. A warm glow of satisfaction filled him. ‘I can do this!’ he thought.
And there it was- the wreck.
CHAPTER 19
FACING UP TO THE TRUTH
The shipwreck first appeared as a vague, dark oblong in the murk. As Andrew got closer the shape became more apparent. This was still puzzling to him till he worked out that he was looking at the wreck from abaft the beam and that the outline was complicated by the remains of a mast or boom lying over at an angle towards him. Even so, he found it a thrilling sight.
‘A real shipwreck!’ he thought, his romantic imagination conjuring up stories and trying to work out what had happened.
The group gathered near the end of the old mast and Dave pointed to several weed encrusted wires- shrouds or stays or winch ropes- and wagged his finger in a determined negative. Then he led them slowly around the stern.
The wreck was sitting almost upright, leaning slightly to port, with its bow towards the beach. The whole structure was thickly coated with marine organisms, mostly seaweed of some sort, and a little coral. Dozens of small fish flitted in and out among the growths on the propeller and rudder. Andrew had read how old ships were now deliberately sunk to form artificial reefs for diving so wasn’t surprised.
The group swam around the flat transom stern and then slowly up along the starboard side. By now the visibility was very good, the sun having come out. Soon they were at the bow and that was even more romantic. Andrew expected to see an anchor or anchors and noted that none was visible. To check he finned up a couple of metres and looked onto the foredeck. As he did a large coral trout swam up out of the black rectangle of a hatchway.
‘I hope there isn’t a bloody great groper lurking in there- or an octopus,’ he thought.
They went back along the port side and then swam up above. The huge rectangular hole of a cargo hatchway was clearly evident, as was a smaller hatchway at the stern. The remains of a deckhouse were still evident but it had been made of timber and had either rotted or been smashed off by storms or trawler’s nets. Andrew found the whole thing fascinating but also somewhat disappointing. It wasn’t a very big wreck really, and certainly wasn’t his romantic image of a wooden square-rigged pirate ship with treasure chests and skeletons and an octopus.
Then a horrible thought came to him- what if there were skeletons in the wreck? He shuddered but then shook his head. ‘No, the crabs and fish would have eaten them all up long ago,’ he reasoned.
At that moment dim shapes became visible moving towards them through the water. After a moment of alarm Andrew saw it was the Basic Course dive group. For a few seconds he imagined them to be enemy frogmen swimming to attack. Then he remembered the scene from the James Bond film ‘Thunderball’ and was able to pretend he was getting ready for a life and death struggle underwater. For a few seconds he shuddered at the image of how ghastly it must really be to fight underwater, of being hit by the flickering steel dart from a speargun or to have an air hose severed.
Dave ended that by signalling to surface. The group swam away from the wreck and towards the dive boat, angling up to ten metres. They stayed at this level till they came to the launch. A lead line had been dropped from the stern and a spare air tank with regulator hung on it at 10 metres, as an emergency supply for anyone who was running short. None were so they stayed drifting with neutral buoyancy for five minutes, then surfaced.
Up on deck, after storing their kit and getting out of their wet suits they mad
e their way to the saloon. By now the sun was well above the horizon and the breeze had dropped to almost nothing. The motion of the launch was barely noticeable to Andrew. They filled out dive logs and then used the ‘wheel’ calculator to work out how long they had to stay out.
“Your next dive will be to twelve metres maximum when we go back and explore the wreck,” Dave explained.
After going down to 30 metres Andrew thought that would hardly be a challenge. ‘Only two more dives to qualify,’ he told himself, nerving himself to keep going. After that he need never go underwater again in his whole life. There was also the delicious pleasure in continually glancing sideways down the front of Muriel’s bikini top to watch how her breasts gently quivered, and in the hope of getting a glimpse of her nipples.
Breakfast followed, during which the Basic Course people returned on board. With nothing else to do Andrew joined the other young people on the foredeck, warming themselves in the sun. Muriel was there and he sat beside her. To his relief and delight she moved closer and sat so close that her legs and body touched his. Then Doug arrived and sat facing them. Andrew was irritated at the way Doug’s gaze kept roving over Muriel’s body. He was even more peeved at the way Doug tried to keep talking to her, and at her answering him in a friendly way. Nettled and anxious Andrew sat down facing them and joined in the conversation. The talk was all about diving- of the wreck, the big manta ray someone had seen; of a black-tipped shark one of the Englishmen had observed; of clams and coral.
To Andrew’s annoyance Doug kept continually talking to Muriel. Andrew tried to give him the hint to buzz off but he did not seem to notice. To add to his discomfiture Andrew became aroused and had to remain seated so that this was hidden.
At 8:30 the Trip Director called them all for another briefing. Andrew waited till others were moving and then used his towel and shirt to hide his aroused condition. The need to squash into the saloon with the others and then the technical aspect of the dive briefing all helped take his mind back off sex but he was still feeling horny, mainly because Muriel sat pressing against him. What caused him to shudder were the stories, told as dire warnings by the instructors.
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