Davey Jones's Locker

by Christopher Cummings

  “Unless you opened them later?”

  Andrew was sure neither he, nor Carmen had. That got them both searching the house to see if anything was missing or broken. A thorough search revealed nothing. While they were doing this Carmen came home and the story had to be told again. They all looked at the back gate and then searched the house again.

  As they did Andrew had a worrying idea nagging at him like a sore tooth. However he said nothing about it to his mother and only when she was out of earshot did he put it to Carmen. He pointed to the notes and chart on his desk.

  “I reckon this was what the person wanted. Someone was looking at this,” he said.

  “Muriel,” Carmen at once added.

  Andrew nodded and felt sick inside. “That’s what I suspect. I think she has snuck in to see what we are up to; to try to find out what we know.”

  “Is anything missing?”

  “No, but my notes have definitely been moved aside. I reckon she, or whoever it was, took a photo, like I did. If they had taken anything we would know for sure that someone had been,” Andrew answered.

  “But why? What is her motive?” Carmen asked.

  Andrew shrugged. “To try to protect her grandfather?” he suggested.

  The conversation was interrupted at that moment by their father arriving home. They did not tell him their theory either, but he had to be told about the intruder. Another check of valuables was conducted; and with the same result- nothing missing.

  Their father scratched his head, “Beats me,” he said. “But as nothing is missing we will just make sure we lock up properly next time. Now, let’s get this expedition organized.”

  That helped, and at once got Andrew both excited and anxious. The fear of having to dive began to slowly grow, like a mental cancer in the pit of his stomach. But he was determined to go ahead with the search so pretended he was keen and helped with the packing and planning. There were more phone calls to Mr Tapau. He confirmed that they were ready and would be sailing from Mackay early next morning at about 0400 hrs. That would put them in Bowen by about 1800 hrs the next day, weather permitting.

  The rendezvous was arranged and other details settled. That done Mr Collins reminded Mr Tapau that it might all be for nothing and that they could still say no and pull out if they wished. During supper he said the same thing to Andrew and Carmen.

  “Even if we find this wreck I may forbid you to dive on it,” he said. “If it is in water deeper than the thirty metres you are trained for- and I mean the seabed, not the top of the wreck, or if there are strong currents or whatever, we will call it off and get professional divers to do it for us. Is that clear?”

  Both teenagers nodded and Andrew even felt a spasm of relief. ‘If it is too dangerous I won’t have to dive,’ he thought.

  There was also the weather. The TV map showed a large High Pressure cell moving slowly across the Great Australian Bight, with the comment that it might strengthen the winds along the east coast when it moved into the Tasman Sea in a couple of days time. Once again Andrew became both hopeful and anxious- wanting to dive but fearing it and telling himself that bad weather might save him from the ordeal. But that just made him despise himself for his weakness and he knew in his heart that he had to see this thing through or it would bother him for the rest of his days.

  More packing followed. Mr Collins then urged brother and sister to bed. “You will be having a long day tomorrow and we don’t want you tired out,” he said.

  So Andrew was in bed by 10:00pm, half an hour earlier than his usual time. But then he could not sleep. Fear of diving, anxiety over Muriel, excitement over the expedition, and a nagging worry that the intruder might return in the night to do something to him, all conspired to keep him restless until well after midnight.

  Even then he did not sleep well, with several bad dreams that kept him tossing and turning and surfacing to semi-wakefulness. The bad dreams, or what he could remember of them, all involved being down in the sea, or under it, with big waves, darkness setting in, strong currents, dead bodies and the flitting shapes of sharks and other terrors of the deep.

  Andrew woke feeling tired and sick, wondering if he could somehow call the thing off, to avoid the diving. There was also another worry which had grown during the night- should they leave their mother alone in the house if there was an intruder who had somehow gained access to their house?

  Andrew put this concern to Carmen when he came out of the bathroom after his morning shower and shave. “Do you think Mum will be safe here on her own?”

  Carmen nodded. “I think so. I’ve been thinking about that and I heard Mum and Dad talking about it. Dad is sure that whoever it was used the spare key to get in the font door. They certainly didn’t break in.”

  That made sense to Andrew but raised another worry- who knew where the spare key was kept? It was really well hidden and not at all obvious. He wracked his brains to try to remember who might have seen him get it and came up with a list of his friends: Blake, Simmo and maybe Graham. There was no-one else he could think of.

  ‘Is one of my friends the person?’ he wondered.

  The ugly thought that it might be Blake came to nag at him. ‘Shona is also Muriel’s friend,’ he mused. Reluctantly he voiced these suspicions to Carmen.

  Carmen nodded. “It will have been Muriel for sure.”

  Andrew gloomily agreed. “Now she will know where we are going.”

  “So what? She can’t just suddenly up and organize an expedition. It’s taken us nearly a week,” Carmen said.

  “I suppose so. I’m still worried about Mum though.”

  Carmen put his mind at rest by saying, “Mum is going to have the locks changed this morning. She will be alright. Now, have your breakfast and let’s get going. We want to be on the road in an hour.”

  They were. Just after 0800 the car set off, with Mr Collins and Andrew in the front and Carmen in the back with the extra gear. With him in a folder Andrew had all his papers, notes and the chart. He also had a couple of books. That gave him plenty to read and think about when he wasn’t talking to his father or looking out at the scenery. The view did not hold his interest very much, other than to note the milestones of their progress: Babinda, Innisfail, Tully, Cardwell.

  There was a short stop in Cardwell for refreshments. While there Andrew looked out across the sea at the distant bulk of Endeavour Island and was gripped and aroused by the many scorching memories of the holiday in April. Carmen and he exchanged a few reminiscences but Andrew was very aware that the island holiday had been something of a traumatic ordeal for her. Tactfully he kept the conversation on the positives, making no mention of the murderous smugglers and the fiery finale.

  At 1100 the journey was resumed, south along the Bruce Highway at 100kph through the dry forest and across the swampy coastal plain for 30km to the Cardwell Range. After crossing it they travelled on through the sugar town of Ingham and into the drier country towards Townsville.

  By 1pm they were in Townsville. This meant a call on Aunty Bev (Their father’s sister) and Uncle Mel. Lunch was eaten in the familiar dining room of the house where they had stayed for six weeks the previous December and January. Once again Andrew was assailed by vivid memories and the strong emotions they evoked of the dramas and adventures along Ross River at that time. He would have liked to drop in on the Schipholls and to see Mark, Jill and Anne but there was obviously no time. Nor did Carmen want any news about their expedition to leak out, feeling sure the Navy Cadet gossip grapevine would soon carry it back to Cairns and Muriel.

  Just after 2:30pm they were on the road again. As they drove south out of Townsville Andrew was in the grip of conflicting emotions: nostalgic and erotic memories; a strong desire to solve the mystery; and growing anxiety about having to dive. What was particularly bothering him about this time was that it was such a small, ad-hoc expedition. He was uncomfortably aware that every other time he had been diving he had been surrounded not only by friends but by a t
eam of highly skilled professional divers with all the right equipment for safety. This was altogether different and he admitted to himself that he was really scared.

  As they drove the car radio was kept on and Andrew listened anxiously to every weather forecast, torn by conflicting hopes. The predicted wind speeds were still just too strong for comfort but a least had not increased. The ‘High’ in the Bight was still moving slowly east but so far had not strengthened. It was the first time in his life that he had been so deeply conscious of the importance of the weather and gave him a new insight into how life might be.

  Andrew had only ever been south of Townsville along the Bruce Highway a few times before and he had not paid much attention. Once again he was struck by how flat and how dry much of the country was. An hour’s drive had them in the sugar town of Ayr. Then it was 20km more of flat open sugar cane farms to the Burdekin River and its huge road-rail bridge and the town of Home Hill. Then past more farms before the country became dry coastal lowlands of grass and savannah woodlands.

  The main feature of interest from Home Hill onwards was being able to see the isolated, but very rugged outcrop of mountains on the left that was Cape Upstart. The sea was never visible as the highway was too far inland, but the mountains were visible in the distance for much of the drive. Just looking at them brought a flood of detailed memories of diving on the wreck of the Deeral. With the memories went the emotions of fear, mystery and determination to uncover the truth.

  They passed through the small township of Merinda with its railway junction and derelict meatworks just before 5pm. Andrew had seen the name on the map and was interested to see the place. The reality was disappointing, although his father did point out that it had once been a much larger settlement and more important. However he did not know which came first - the town or the ship. To Andrew it just looked a sad, dry little place.

  Don River was reached and they stopped at the roadhouse to refuel and for a feed. Half an hour later, and feeling quite worn out, they continued on. It was only a few kilometres more to Bowen. On arrival their father turned the car off the main highway and drove in through the town to the seafront. Andrew received a mixture of impressions- an old town with lots of timber ‘Old Queenslanders’; wide streets with not much traffic; some quaint buildings and a general charm of being different from touristy Cairns.

  The island studded bay Andrew found fascinating. Staring out over the broad waters of Edgecumbe Bay he said to Carmen, “Oh, this looks great! It would be fun sailing here. Lots of islands to explore.”

  Carmen nodded. “It certainly looks very pretty. A sailing holiday here would be a good idea.”

  Their father, who had been stretching himself beside the car, laughed and said, “Next year kids! Let’s get this business out of the way first. Anyway, I fancy that small launch coming in across the harbour is the Moa Mermaid. Let’s go and look.”

  As he climbed back into the car Andrew studied the launch in question. It was at least a kilometre out and did not look very big, but he felt sure it was the one they were waiting for. From that distance it looked tiny. It also looked old, being quite a dated design. ‘I hope it is seaworthy!’ Andrew thought, experiencing a distinct qualm.

  His father took out his mobile phone and rang Mr Tapau. The answer confirmed that the launch they could see was indeed the Moa Mermaid. Mr Collins put the phone away and started the car. Three minutes of driving had them at the end of the very long main wharf in the old part of Port Denison.

  The main town wharf was a very long jetty poking out into the bay. By the time they had walked out along it the Moa Mermaid was nosing in to tie up. Andrew hurried on ahead to help with the mooring lines. These were heaved by Jordan, who stood on the focsle, his face one huge grin. Moses Tapau conned her in, his head and half his body leaning out of the half cabin so he could see better.

  Close up Andrew was even less impressed by the Moa Mermaid. She looked small and old. He knew her to be 15 metres long, with a beam of 4 and a normal draught of 1.7m. She had a raised focsle which ended a third of her length aft. There was then a cabin. The cabin was almost open at the rear and a stern deck took up the last quarter of her length. The stern deck was just above the waterline and only the wooden bulwarks gave her a respectable freeboard aft. But what really bothered Andrew was the signs of age and the peeling paint. The launch had once been painted white above the waterline and bright red below but now it looked mangy and the red had faded to a scungy rust brown. A green fuzz coated the underwater. The sail lashed to a boom above the cabin looked yellowed and the ropes had a grey appearance that made Andrew wonder about rot. A battered plywood dinghy was lashed upside down on the aft hatch cover.

  But if the vessel looked poor the greetings were not. The two Torres Strait Islanders clambered onto the jetty and vigorously shook hands, their faces wreathed in cheerful smiles.

  “Good to be here eh?” Moses said. “Now we settle this business.”

  As they talked Andrew studied the two T.Is. Both wore only baggy old shorts. Their black skins gleamed in the sunset. Moses, Andrew noted, looked very fat without his shirt on. Jordan on the other hand, seemed to be all rippling muscles on his torso and arms. They were certainly likeable men and they radiated a sense of both fun and dependability that Andrew found reassuring. When he looked at the launch again he tried to tell himself it must be seaworthy.

  ‘After all, they are professional fishermen. They go out on the ocean all the time in her.’

  Despite that he still felt a bit uneasy at the prospect of going out of sight of land in such a tiny vessel. But there seemed to be no escape from that. He could not imagine what he could now say to back out. Knowing that he had talked himself into the situation made him annoyed with himself, even as he gulped with anxiety.

  Work now began, lugging gear along the jetty and loading it aboard. It was dusk by then and the wind off the water seemed to drop to a chill quite quickly. It also felt quite strong, making Andrew worry that the weather might be worsening. Having moved the gear to the jetty beside the launch it was then stowed on board. To do this Andrew had to step aboard and then help pass things down onto the stern deck. It was then carried through into the cabin. During all of this the launch moved very noticeably as their weight shifted around it. It did not bode well for how she would cope with waves on the open sea.

  Andrew made his way into the small cabin through the open rear section. Inside it was surprisingly homely, but also very smelly. The odours of diesel, oil, fish, paint and salt all assailed his nostrils. The cabin had a bench seat on either side and a table down the middle between them. The benches also doubled as bunks and under them were lockers. At the forward end were the steering wheel and controls and two short sets of steps. One set led up through a small doorway to the focsle. The other went down into the berth deck. On the port side at the forward end of the cabin was a chart table and radio equipment. On the starboard side opposite was the galley- a stove, refrigerator and larder.

  Making his way forward and down into the berth deck Andrew found it stuffy and noted that it smelt even worse. There were four bunks, two on each side one above the other. A tiny shower cubicle was to the right of the companionway and the toilet on the left. But most obvious of all was the stump of the mast. The shiny, polished wood went straight down through the middle of the compartment. As he made his way past the mast to the bunk Jordan was indicating to him Andrew caught the whiff of linseed oil and he paused to sniff and then touch the polished wood. It felt lovely and smooth to the touch and he felt a bit better about the safety of the boat.

  His gear he placed on the top bunk above Carmen. This gave him a view through a tiny, salt-encrusted porthole whose brass fittings were green with verdigris and salt corrosion. Their father placed his gear on the bottom bunk opposite and then told them both to go back up on deck.

  Here Moses said, “We goin’ ashore for dinner. I don’t fancy Big Jordan’s cookin’, an’ I don’ feel like doin’ it meself
.”

  “What we gunna have?” Jordan asked.

  “Fish and chips man, what else?” Moses replied with a laugh.

  So the two T.Is slipped on loose cotton shirts and the whole group walked back along the jetty in the gathering darkness, leaving the launch snubbing at her moorings on the rising tide.

  CHAPTER 31

  INTO THE NIGHT

  As they walked away from the launch Andrew looked anxiously back at it. “Should one of us stay to look after the boat?” he asked.

  Moses looked surprised and shook his head. “Nah. Why? The old girl sits at the wharf in the Pioneer River for days on end and we have no trouble.”

  Andrew had no answer to that but he still felt vaguely uneasy. All he could do to ease the worry was to note that the jetty was entirely deserted. There was not even a fisherman in sight and theirs was the only boat berthed there.

  During the next hour and a half they went into town and found a cafe, ate fish and chips and then Mr Collins parked his car at a motel where he paid a fee for it to be looked after. That done they all took a taxi back to the wharf. It was 8:45 pm when they climbed out of the taxi at the end of the long jetty. In the darkness it looked much longer and quite spooky, just a few dim lights illuminating it.

  As they walked out along the jetty in the darkness Andrew felt his vague sense of apprehension returning. There were now a few fishermen seated at long intervals but still no other boats. The whole scene was peaceful and quite pretty. The lights of the town danced on the rippling wave tops and the moon was just rising to throw a shimmering blanket of silver across the whole bay. The only obvious factor that might cause disquiet was the wind. It seemed to be stronger and felt quite chilly. That got Andrew worrying about the weather again.