Davey Jones's Locker

by Christopher Cummings

  One was about how two divers entered the forward torpedo compartment of a sunken submarine but how their swimming around stirred up a cloud of fine sediment that had been deposited over the years. The sediment so lowered visibility they had been unable to find the narrow hatchway to get out again and both had died when their air supply ran out.

  The other was by Dave about when he had dived on the wreck of a large Russian ocean liner, the Mikhail Lermontov, which ran on a rock in Picton Sound in New Zealand. “We swam into the superstructure and along the passageways,” he explained. “Then, when we were three decks down, I saw that the vibrations through the water from our swimming had caused all the rotting chipboard wall panels lining the corridor to come adrift and the entire passageway was filled with floating rubbish. We had a lot of trouble finding our way back out in time.”

  The Trip Director reinforced this message by reminding them that many divers had perished in wrecks because they had got stuck in a narrow opening and had damaged their air supply, or been unable to get free. “I don’t want any of the stuff you read about those mad cave divers doing like taking off equipment to pass it through narrow openings, then going through after it. If you won’t fit easily, don’t try to go through.”

  He then reminded them that divers always tended to underestimate their spatial awareness, and that angles and sizes were magnified and distorted by water. “So, you will only enter compartments one at a time and under the direct supervision of an instructor, got it?”

  They said yes. The Trip Director then asked, “Any questions?”

  One of the Englishmen then said, “Yes. Do you have some more basic data on this wreck?”

  “No more than you have been given, but this time we will take torches and tools and tape measures and draw a plan of her.”

  “How did she sink sir?” Carmen asked.

  “We aren’t sure but we are going to look,” the Trip Director answered.

  “A storm perhaps?” suggested one of the tourists.

  “Could have been. There is no anchor so she may have been sheltering here and dragged her anchor and hit a rock or something,” the Trip Director replied. “Anyway, it is nine O’clock so let’s get diving and you can look for clues.”

  Going down this time was easy for Andrew. He felt more scared swimming across to the wreck on the surface than in going under. The group descended and began exploring. Dave had them go into the main cargo hold one at a time. That was empty, except for a build up of silt. The hatchway was so large that Andrew felt no real fear going into it. The forward hatch led down into some sort of storeroom. The hatchway was just large enough for a diver to lower themselves vertically down. Inside it was so dark a torch was needed but Andrew was not alarmed, being the fifth person to enter the compartment.

  The engine space aft was a bit trickier. The hatchway was just large enough but the signals and gesticulations of the others all indicated interest. Torch in hand Andrew went in when it was his turn. The space was mostly filled by a huge diesel engine, with smaller pieces of machinery and various pipes and boxes along the sides. He soon saw what had excited everyone’s interest- a small octopus. The repulsive thing only had a head and body about the size of his fist but when it spread its tentacles it looked much larger. It was not one of the deadly poisonous blue-ringed variety but Andrew took good care to keep well away from it. He was also wary of the far end of the machinery spaces as he could see the head of a moray eel just poking out from a cranny among the pipes.

  He found it a relief to get back outside. For the next ten minutes he drifted on neutral buoyancy and watched the others, while fantasizing about heroic adventures in bigger wrecks. While he did he idly watched the Trip Director and a couple of the Englishmen as they worked their way along the bottom of the hull, digging away sand and measuring. While he waited Andrew also kept making frequent checks that no shark had suddenly appeared.

  In what seemed like no time at all the signal to surface was given. ‘Good!’ Andrew thought. ‘Only one more dive to go.’

  Back on board the dive launch they filled out dive logs and then calculated the times for their last dive. While they were doing that Dave and Sub Lt Sheldon checked the accuracy of their calculations. The Trip Director joined them, towelling his face. “Well,” he said to the group a large. “That was interesting. We know a bit more now.”

  “What did you find out?” Sub Lt Sheldon asked.

  The Trip Director pointed to one of the young Englishmen. “Young Jeremy here found the builder’s name plate.”

  “Oh aye,” Jeremy nodded. “Built on the Clyde she were, in nineteen forty four.”

  That got Andrew’s interest. ‘World War 2.’ he thought.

  What Jeremy next said caused him to stiffen with surprise. “She were an army workboat,” he said, “Her number is A. V., one three, one three.”

  Dave nodded. “We should have no difficulty tracking her history now,” he commented.

  ‘AV 1313!’ Andrew thought, surprise turning to puzzled shock. He looked up and met Carmen’s eyes and he could see she was having the same reaction. Looking at her he said, “That was the Deeral’s number.”

  Carmen nodded. A horrible feeling swept through Andrew, followed by intense interest. The others were all looking at him now.

  Sub Lt Sheldon asked, “Deeral? What was she?”

  “An ex-army workboat that my Grandad bought after the war,” Andrew answered. “He was on it when he went missing at sea.”

  “Went missing!” cried Sub Lt Sheldon. “When? Tell us more?”

  “Back in nineteen fifty eight,” Andrew answered. “He and Muriel’s Grandad went to sea looking for a sunken ship named the Merinda. The Deeral sank in a storm and Grandad was never seen again. Muriel’s Grandad was the only survivor.”

  He glanced at Muriel, who looked puzzled but nodded. But Andrew was puzzled also and he could see that Carmen was too. Carmen spoke first, “But that doesn’t make sense. I thought the Deeral sank somewhere east of the Whitsunday Islands. That is hundreds of kilometres from here.”

  Andrew’s mind raced through possibilities and he tried to visualize the chart. He shook his head and said, “Maybe she didn’t sink immediately? Maybe she drifted until she went down here?”

  “Maybe,” the Trip Director said, looking very thoughtful, “But this ship here didn’t sink in a storm. She was scuttled using explosives.”

  There was a shocked silence. Muriel spoke first. “No! That’s not possible!” she cried.

  The Trip Director looked at her and shook his head. “It is. We found four holes blasted in her hull, one in each of the smaller compartments and two in the main hold, and both the steel hatch covers of the small compartments have been clipped open. If that ship had been in trouble in bad weather those would have been closed.”

  Once again there was a silence. Everyone present was interested but Andrew barely noticed them. His mind raced over the ugly possibilities. Explosives! Scuttled! Had there been an accident? What had happened?

  Muriel spoke again, loudly and angrily. “Then it must be some other ship. Grandad said he was a long way east of Bowen when the ship hit a reef and sank, and he was washed ashore on Hayman Island.”

  The Trip Director shook his head. “There is no sign of this ship here hitting a reef,” he replied.

  “Then it must be another ship!” Muriel cried. She was upset now, as well as angry and Andrew moved to comfort her.

  Jeremy now spoke up. “We can show you the maker’s number,” he answered. He looked as though he regretted ever raising the subject.

  Muriel nodded but she looked so unhappy that Andrew put his arms around her and gave her a gentle squeeze. Carmen then asked, “Can we look at the wreck again on our last dive?”

  The Trip Director nodded. “I was going to get you to study the marine life along the rocks but I think we had better clear this up. It is obviously causing some concern.”

  “There will be some perfectly simple explan
ation,” Sub Lt Sheldon added soothingly.

  Again Andrew patted Muriel’s arm. “It will turn out alright. Let’s have some morning tea while we wait.”

  They moved to the able to get drinks and biscuits and this helped ease the tension which had developed but while they ate Andrew remained puzzled. Something did not add up and it bothered him. Carmen obviously felt the same way because when she got Andrew alone she said, “This is really fishy. How could the Deeral be here when it is supposed to have sunk about one hundred and eighty nautical miles away? That is over three hundred kilometres. There is no way a sinking wreck could have drifted that far.”

  “Maybe this wreck isn’t the Deeral ?”Andrew replied. He was bothered by the whole situation and did not want to upset Muriel.

  “We can check,” Carmen answered. “We will take the details and see if they match.”

  There seemed nothing else to do. When it came time for the last dive- only for twenty minutes and no deeper than 12 metres- Andrew and Carmen set out with wrist slates and crayons. Muriel looked unhappy but came with them. The whole group jumped in and set out, Andrew barely noticing things like suiting up or jumping into the sea. Only when he was finning across the surface towards the dive raft did he realize that. Even then he only did a perfunctory search for sharks before pushing them out of his mind. He was now consumed by a gnawing curiosity to learn the truth.

  This time the Trip Director came with them. Before they dived he said, “I will first show you the holes in the hull. Then Jeremy will take you into the engine room and show you the builder’s plate.”

  Andrew nodded and then saw the look on Muriel’s face and felt uneasy. ‘If this is the Deeral then her Grandad might have some explaining to do,’ he thought. Even thinking that made him feel ill and disloyal to Muriel. But he felt he had to know.

  So down they went. The holes in the hull were right in underneath, below the sharp turn of the bilge, but by lying flat on the sand and peering into the hole scooped out by the earlier divers Andrew clearly saw a jagged hole. The hole appeared to be about 15 to 20 cm in diameter. But what really made him think was the way the jagged edges of the hole were facing downwards- outwards. Just seeing that was enough to cause him grave misgivings.

  ‘It certainly looks like a hole blasted by explosives,’ he thought, very aware that he had no experience or training in the field.

  He wormed his way back out, bumping his air tank on the weed-encrusted hull several times as he did. Carmen went in to take his place. Others were clustered further along at another hole. Muriel was with them but appeared to be very reluctant to go down and look. She did so but just met his eyes blankly when she came back out.

  Jeremy then led Andrew into the engine room. Both used torches. This time Andrew ignored the small octopus and just kept a wary eye on the moral eel as he and Jeremy swam past its lair to the far end of the space. Jeremy then shone his torch up on a stainless steel plate about 20 cm X 10 cm. He reached up and rubbed the mossy slime off it and pointed to the engraved letters and numbers.

  Andrew moved closer and read the plate. As he did he felt his heart constrict and then speed up. It read:

  A V 1313

  Clydeside Shipyard

  Job Number A 65478

  6 April 1944

  Reading those details caused Andrew a whole slew of emotions. He felt suddenly sad and could only shake his head as the possible implications dawned on him. Very carefully he copied the inscription onto his slate. Jeremy then took him to a pump bolted to the port side and showed him a number. Andrew copied the brand name and the number as well. Then he did the same for the huge diesel engine.

  Once more Jeremy tapped his arm and pointed. Andrew saw a pipe which obviously led in from the ship’s side to the pump. The pipe had been unscrewed and lay partly off. That made him feel even sicker. ‘If it was sabotage someone deliberately set out to sink this ship,’ he thought. But who? And why?

  The ideas that followed were so ugly he shied away from even thinking them. He allowed himself to be led back outside so that Carmen could go in and look. Muriel was waiting there and while he could not see her mouth because of the regulator Andrew could tell by her eyes that she was worried and unhappy. When Carmen came back out Muriel appeared to be reluctant to even go in and look but she did.

  As soon as Muriel was inside Carmen touched Andrew’s arm to attract his attention and then took out her regulator to show a grim mouth. She put her regulator back in and shook her head. She looked more serious than Andrew could ever remember. Carmen then took his slate and printed on the back of it. When he turned it over and read the words he felt his chest tighten.

  It read: Somebody is telling lies!

  With that ugly thought churning his stomach and making his mind race Andrew swam back to the dive boat with the others. He helped Muriel up the ladder and with her air tanks and BCD but she looked thoroughly miserable. That made him feel worse. She made no move to help him so Carmen did. Andrew then helped Carmen off with her gear.

  As she placed her air tank back in the rack Carmen said to Muriel. “If that is the wreck of the Deeral then your Grandfather has got some explaining to do.”

  Muriel looked aghast and then tears sprang to her eyes. “Oh that is a horrible thing to say!”

  Carmen faced her squarely. “It might be. But someone has been telling lies, and as he was the only survivor, it must be him.”

  “Oh! How dare you! What a horrible person you are!” Muriel shouted, stung to anger by the accusation.

  Through this Andrew stood appalled and unsure what so say, or whose side to take. He saw Doug, who had been hovering near Muriel all through the dive, step up beside her.

  Doug fronted Andrew. “Leave her alone! You haven’t any proof for such an accusation,” he snarled.

  Sub Lt Sheldon now stepped forward. “That’s enough. Doug’s right. We don’t have the facts, so let the subject drop please. Wait until we have done some research and know what we are talking about before we make any legal accusations.”

  Andrew felt a cold chill at that word ‘legal’. He understood that Sub Lt Sheldon was warning Carmen and him about things like slander. Through a mist of distress he saw Doug put an arm around Muriel’s shoulders and lead her away to the saloon. Carmen turned to him and looked unhappy. So was Andrew, but he was angry as well. He was sure the wreck was the Deeral.

  Carmen hissed to him, “Why would old Mr McGackey lie about a thing like the ship’s number?”

  Still trying to find excuses and wanting to help Muriel Andrew shrugged and said, “Maybe he is just an old man whose memory has wandered. Maybe the number was another ship he was on.”

  “We will soon be able to check,” Carmen answered. “The government keep records of all ships registered.”

  Andrew could only nod and feel numb. He had a horrible sinking feeling that the truth, when it was revealed, might be really unpleasant. He also sensed that he and Muriel might now be separated by the need to face the truth. ‘But I love her!’ he thought miserably. Then tears came and he turned away to look out to sea.

  CHAPTER 20

  SUSPICIONS

  The Trip Director now came forward. “I’d like you two to move to the dive deck and wait there please. I don’t want any arguing or fights on my trips.”

  Andrew and Carmen did as they were asked. Sub Lt Sheldon came with them, as did Jeremy and a couple of the tourists. Sub Lt Sheldon said, as they made their way aft along the narrow side deck, “And we don’t need any splits or ill-will in our cadet unit either.”

  The Trip Director then said, “I’d like you two to stay here, away from that other girl until we get under way. Then I’d would like an explanation.”

  Andrew nodded and sat down, suddenly feeling quite exhausted. The Trip Director, Dave and Sub Lt Sheldon got busy recovering safety boats and dive floats and then the anchor was winched aboard. Normally Andrew would have been fascinated to watch these bits of seamanship but now he just observed th
em through a mask of dull confusion and misery.

  “I think I have upset Muriel,” he commented to Carmen when they were alone.

  Carmen shrugged. “That isn’t your fault. She is the one who can’t face the truth.”

  “Be fair Car! You can’t expect a person not to be loyal to their own family,” Andrew replied.

  “I suppose not. But one thing is for sure, when we get back I am going to investigate what happened to our grandfather,” Carmen replied with a shrug.

  It was almost midday by then. The launch turned and headed north at full speed, a good 12 knots. As they came out from the lee of Cape Upstart the waves increased in size and the launch began to roll and pitch, with an occasional slithering yaw down the side of a larger than normal wave. None of this bothered Andrew, but the middle-aged local stood looking at the sea with an anxious expression on his face and a couple of the tourists became sea sick.

  Once everything was secured the Trip Director, Dave, Sub Lt Sheldon and a couple of others came and joined them. The Trip Director then asked for an explanation. Carmen did most of the talking but Andrew gave the detailed explanation of what Grandma Murchison had said. Carmen explained about the newspaper cutting and what old Mr McGackey had said, even to making excuses for an old man possibly getting his facts wrong. The adults listened with close attention, obviously very interested.

  “So you can see why I think it is all very suspicious,” Carmen concluded.

  The Trip Director nodded. “Yes, I can see your point of view. But it isn’t proof, so if I were you, I wouldn’t say anything more. In fact, while you are on this boat, I am telling you not to. No more trouble.”