by John Day
Alan would get upset and might turn nasty. Perhaps he should tell Ellen and Walter though, because they would be unhappy at losing another slice of the proverbial cake.
Benny decided to avoid immediate confrontation and say nothing, it would all resolve itself when Henshaw arrived in Celeste.
Mendez and his tough crew against the four on the Lady Jane, excluding himself of course, would keep the situation contained. Mendez might well feel peeved that he hadn’t been invited, but now he was here, no harm done.
Anyway, Benny knew he was untouchable and Mendez would be sensible, being so close to a fortune.
It hadn’t escaped Benny’s thinking that Mendez would probably bump Alan off to settle the score he had with the man, whatever that was. Doing away with the stepsister, Ellen and Walter would be easy and justifiable.
Benny would get his full cut however many shared the treasure. With the others out of the way, Mendez, Henshaw and his crew would divide the remainder of the treasure between them.
What better way to cover up four murders than to let the sea and hurricane Matthew take the blame?
A Plan.
The girls helped Alan and Walter back on board. The men showered and cleaned up, the equipment was stowed, and a celebration prepared.
Benny whispered to Ellen that Henshaw was due to pull alongside in an hour. “Best to prepare accordingly, because Alan and Sarah will be rather upset when they discover that you and Walter knew Henshaw was stalking the catamaran from afar.” Ellen wondered how that would pan out and warned Walter, in case of violence.
Walter braced himself for the bad feeling that was bound to come from betraying his new friend, and he didn’t like it.
By the time Alan had dried off, dressed and come on deck, the Celeste was looming large. He had no illusions what was going down, but what could he do about it? Had someone tipped off Henshaw or was it pure coincidence that he arrived just as the sub was discovered?
Benny immediately sprang to mind as the source, but they needed Henshaw anyway, so there was no point in causing a scene. That would only create bad feeling and give the others an excuse to exclude him from a share.
He saw Walter was tense and furtive, Ellen was avoiding eye contact with him, but looked daggers at Benny. Sarah appeared anxious and confused.
The salvage ship was essential to their needs and was just minutes away. It was a slim possibility that Charles could raise U-159 from its slumbers, before the storm hit. Once the treasure was off loaded, and safe aboard Celeste, that would be the time to stand firm and take his and Sarah’s cut. After all, he was the one who found it.
The massive vessel drew near and a RIB was lowered. It hit the water, pulled away and headed towards Lady Jane. On board were several divers gearing up, as it approached. The weather beaten, stony faced man in charge would be Charles Henshaw, but who was the other man in the smart white shirt and Chinos - with his head bowed and the peaked cap hiding his face. Alan thought he looked familiar, but under the circumstances, couldn’t think who.
As the RIB pulled alongside Lady Jane, Alan uttered an expletive. It was Mendez! What the hell was he doing here?
Barging forward, he introduced himself. It was his hired boat after all, so it was his right to meet and greet, even if that was all he could do.
Charles shook his hand warmly, he had no axe to grind, Alan was about to make him very rich. The divers stayed on the RIB, waiting for instructions.
Alan had no option but to face down the man he hated. “Good morning Mr Mendez, so nice of you to join us. I suppose you have an interest in the submarine, having paid for the abortive survey, out in the basin.”
If he hoped to direct the evil man’s ill will towards Benny, it was a waste of breath. Mendez stood and glared, as though Alan had killed his dog.
Alan mentally shrugged and carried on like Mendez didn’t exist. “Come and sit with me Charles under the awning, the girls have rustled up a fitting celebration for our discovery. Let me tell you what we saw down there.”
Charles smiled, but made no attempt to celebrate.
“The storm is approaching fast, so if you could tell me where the U-159 is, my men will do the survey and we can plan how to raise it.”
Alan could only go with the flow, so he simply said, “follow the anchor rope, but watch out for the fishing nets.”
Charles shouted his instructions to his men and in less than a minute, they flipped over the side into the depths.
***
An hour later the team of divers surfaced and climbed back into the RIB. Charles and Mendez hurriedly joined them and they headed straight back to the Celeste.
Benny and the other four felt stunned. Effectively they were being excluded from any discussion taking place on the salvage ship.
By early afternoon, Alan had decided to cut his losses and was on the brink of slicing through the anchor rope and running over the shallows, heading for a safe port. He figured the Celeste could not follow there and under full sail, the catamaran would be hard to board from the RIB, if Henshaw and Mendez even bothered to give chase.
***
Henshaw’s voice over the radio, broke through his thoughts.
“Celeste to Lady Jane, respond please.”
Alan snatched up the handset and replied. “Alan Patterson here, Celeste, go ahead.”
“We have worked out a plan, which is underway now. The work will take us about 60 hours and by that time the storm will hit, if it continues to head our way. As yet its path is far from certain. We need to be where you are currently moored, so you can either back off and watch, or head for shelter.
“In the meantime, I would like to come aboard again and go over the details with you. Is that alright?”
The five of them were gathered around the radio and murmured mutual agreement.
Alan sounded relieved.
“Thank you, Celeste, we would appreciate that. When your men are down below, can they release our anchor, it is snagged again and we will need it at some stage.”
“No problem Lady Jane, if you look our way, the RIB is heading to you.
“Three tugs on the anchor rope and you can reel it in.”
“Understood Celeste, standing by.”
The relief showed on all five faces. “Looks like we are back in the game,” proclaimed Benny. It was apparently a rhetorical comment.
***
Charles Henshaw clambered aboard Lady Jane and the RIB headed towards the bow. They dropped their own anchor and the 10 divers slipped over the side.
Alan and the other four returned to the table under the awning. No one was in a party mood, but the drinks helped ease their nerves.
Charles joined them. “I expect you are feeling rather left out of things, but with the storm approaching, time is critical. Technically you would have nothing to contribute and time spent ferrying you around and explaining things would cut things too fine.”
No one replied. The reason was sound enough, but some consideration would have been much appreciated.
Charles downed a large Scotch and continued. “The hull looks intact, except on one side, but even if the hull isn’t breached, after all this time, the odds are, she is filled with water.
“We plan to slip a number of curved thin wall tubes under the hull and then pass steel cables through. The tubes act as guides. We will sink large inflatable flotation chambers alongside the sub and connect the cables to them.
“As we inflate the chambers, we will face the first real challenge. The buoyancy will be largely uncontrolled during the ascent. Normally, we would do the actual lifting by crane, the chambers just taking most of the dead weight. As the sub comes up, it will be quite unstable and it might even slip out of the cables. Time is not on our side, so salvage has to be quick and dirty.
“The other big challenge is to position the chambers relative to the hull. Normally, the vessel will be just below the surface and we would slip a floating dock under it, but we don’t have one.
“Having said that, we are pretty sure we can do it ahead of the storm. As soon as the hull is pumped out, we need to get in and man handle the treasure out.
“When the storm hits, we need to be way out to sea in deep water, otherwise, the tremendous waves that roll into these shallows will swamp us.
“I personally think you have left it too late to find safe haven. I suggest you either take refuge ashore, or come with us. Of course, it all depends where Hurricane Matthew decides to go.”
The five were stunned at the implications regarding the storm. No one had seriously considered the danger they were in. Henshaw was obviously confident of survival out to sea, but dry land offered them the best hope of safety. However, now they were so close to getting their hands on the treasure, no one wanted it to float away without them.
It appeared that refuge aboard the Celeste was their only choice.
Benny chimed in. “I think we will join you aboard your ship Charles. We can pass the turbulent hours, dividing up the haul.”
What he really meant, and what the others were thinking was ‘no way are we leaving you with the treasure’.
Charles replied with a cheery air of indifference. “Fine with me, there is room for you, not luxury of course, but you will manage.”
Drinks were poured and spirits were raised both emotionally and literally, but with Mendez involved, the five felt a chill of doom settle upon them.
Afloat.
During the usual breakfast time on the Lady Jane, conversation was strained as the five struggled to hold back on argument and recriminations.
Unexpectedly, Charles came on board to give a progress report that lifted their spirits back to earlier times. He was smiling as he launched enthusiastically into his report. “The dive team had quite a lot of preparation to do before the real work could begin.
“With the fishing nets torn away, we discovered the sub had settled on rocks. Storms and strong currents worked the 1200 tonnes of steel deep into the boulders, protecting it from breaking up. This made threading the cable guides under the submarine quite easy.
“Normally, we use high pressure water jets pumped through the tubes to cut through the sediment. A long and arduous task. On this occasion, the tubes passed easily through the gaps between boulders. Without the suction of the sediment holding the vessel down and then suddenly releasing it, a more controlled ascent is guaranteed.”
A cheer rang out across the water as coffee cups and glasses of buck’s fizz were raised in salute to the great news.
Charles continued by explaining the next phase had already started.
“Early this morning, the 8-massive black rubber-covered inflatable lift bags were sunk alongside U-159. These will be connected to the ends of the cables, forming a series of slings under the hull.
“With four bags each side, spaced along the hull, I calculated the deck would be a metre above the sea when we get her up. To make sure the craft remains level throughout the lift, and on the surface, bags were slightly closer together near the stern, because of the weight of the engine.
“We have pressure release valves fitted to each bag and sensors to detect balance. These are linked to a computer system on Celeste that controls airflow. As the vessel comes up, the water pressure on the bags will drop as they effectively become more buoyant. The computer will release air as necessary for a slow, level ascent, and not a runaway.”
The technicalities were fascinating, and to know it was all happening below them, out of sight was thrilling. The thought that as each minute ticked away, the treasure on-board was becoming a reality. The only thing spoiling this perfect feeling was the uncertainty of their position, now Charles and Mr Mendez had control.
***
The small radio Charles had placed on the breakfast table hissed harshly and a loud voice called him. “Control here Charles, compressors are filling the bags and all systems are monitoring movement. It will be mid-day before we expect to reach negative buoyancy. Over.”
“Thank you control, I will be back on Celeste very soon.”
Well guys, things are going well so far.
Once we get the deck above wave action, we can clear the hatches and start to pump her out. Whilst we are doing that, we will fit a new deck area around the hatches so we can stack the cargo for uplifting by crane to Celeste. The original teak deck has rotted away in places and is unsafe, so to work fast with unloading, we must be prepared.
“Do you know why they use teak for the deck?”
“Because it is durable?” suggested Sarah.
“Considering the short service of a submarine, most species of timber would achieve that. Actually, it is one of the few available, relatively easily worked hardwoods that does not float.
“If the deck is shattered by depth charge explosion, floating debris would give away the position of the submarine.”
Charles looked pleased to have further enlightened his audience, as he leaned back in his chair and drained the remains of his coffee.
“Well, I had better leave you and get back to control. A lot could go wrong, but not on my watch.” He eased back his chair, stood up and stretched, then headed towards his dinghy.
“Oh, don’t forget to move Lady Jane away from here. Inside the reef might be best. You don’t want the sub charging at you out of the depths.”
***
Having moved into the lagoon, the morning dragged slowly and speculative conversation was rife amongst the group. Secret anxieties nagging at the back of their minds prevented anyone remarking about the division of the treasure, bearing in mind the haul would be on Celeste and in the clutches of Mr Mendez.
It was not a question of counting their chickens… more to do with falling out with him and Henshaw or, heaven forbid, each other.
Alan kept his fears to himself, not wanting to scare his stepsister, but if any of the five were cut out of the haul, it would be him and Sarah.
He simply had no hold over anyone, unlike Benny, who would have the dirt on all of them, he was certain of that.
Alan also wondered how much influence Ellen had. Was she so smart that she had an ace to play? Perhaps she was as dispensable as he was. Walter’s fate hung on Ellen’s shoulders. Tough guy he might be but stuck here on Lady Jane rendered him powerless in his own right. Even if Walter had a gun, and Alan doubted it, he couldn’t take on the crew of the Celeste.
The more he thought about it, the more he could see the treasure being craned up into the salvage ship’s hold. Then, when the last item was on-board, Celeste would up anchor and head out under cover of the storm.
They, on the other hand would have left it too late getting to safety. The storm would destroy Lady Jane and drown them. Of course, they could get to shore and be safe there, but they would be penniless and miles from civilisation - so Henshaw and Mendez would have grabbed the lot.
To tell the South American Authorities about the treasure would do them the greatest harm. They were accomplices to the theft and had desecrated a war grave. There is nothing a corrupt Government official hates more than being excluded from a fortune in treasure. Their reward for late disclosure would be life, rotting in jail.
Depressed almost to the point of sullen silence, Alan asked Sarah to help him prepare an early lunch.
***
As everyone sat down to the meal, a submarine sized area of the sea between them and Celeste turned white with bubbles. The vessel had lifted off the rocks. Air was being released and redirected to different bags to slow the rise and maintain a level attitude.
Alan made an assumption that a rise of 1 metre per minute would be reasonable, so in less than an hour the corroded and battered wreck would break the surface.
Charles called them on the radio. “Hello Lady Jane, ar
e you receiving me?”
Alan dashed to the radio and responded. “Receiving you, over.”
“Hi Alan, can you tell everyone that she is on the way up and we would like you over on Celeste at 1.00pm sharp.”
“We all look forward to that. See you then. Thanks. Out”
Lunch time was an excuse for another celebration, with wine and spirits flowing freely. Only Alan and Walter appeared to be holding back.
***
At 12.53pm a loud cheer rang out as the weed and barnacle covered conning tower broke the surface displaying in white ‘U-159’. It was followed by huge, shiny black barrel shaped bags that churned the water white, as trapped seawater cascaded off them.
The sea of foam between the bags lifted high for a while and the cascade roared, as seawater drained off the deck of the rusted hulk. At last, the 77-metre-long, slim hull embraced by the evenly distributed black bags, sat in a roiling sea. The shiny black of the rubber quickly turned dull as the water dried off in the baking tropical sun.
The battered and barnacle encrusted steel shell, coated with weed of various shades of green and red, looked sad. This once lethal machine now lay dead in the calm, blue water. If it had a soul, it might have preferred to dissolve to nothing over centuries rather than be disturbed and forced to give up its secrets.
Apart from the polluted seawater inside, would there be dead men swirling around as it pitched and rocked in the gentle waves? More importantly though, would it willingly give up its cargo?
Fate would also continue to lay out its cards, one by one. Would the storm hit before they could get the treasure out?
Could the sub slip from the steel cables under the hull or would the flotation bags fail as they worked frantically inside?
Might it take them with it as it plunged back to eternal rest on the ocean floor, their punishment for interfering with the course of history?
So far, the cargo had remained secret, perhaps this was its destiny?
Fore and aft lines eased the sad and battered hulk tight to the side of Celeste. The perfectly calm sea, possibly the calm before the storm, masked the frantic activity as men prepared to board U-159 to expose her secrets, after more than 7 decades.