“Sounds cool,” said T.J. “I’ll text Mike and Dad and tell them not to wait dinner for us. Mike’s supposed to be grilling some tuna steaks.”
The bus pulled up near the clock tower at King’s Wharf and disgorged its excited passengers. All four of the teens took turns lugging the snorkeling equipment as they wandered about in the Maritime Museum, where artifacts and interactive displays guided them through the island’s history. There was even mention here and there of Sir William Tarver. Ronnie, who’d obviously been paying attention during history class, was eager to add her commentary, which was understandably pro-Bermudian. Then it was on to the Dolphin Quest, where people could have the opportunity to feed and swim with dolphins, and the Bermuda Clay Works, an art center where they watched the crafting of pottery and other art objects.
After a pub lunch at The Frog and Onion in the Old Cooperage Building, it was on to the Clocktower Shopping Mall, where tourists milled about in search of items ranging from fine china and Irish crystal to Scottish woolens and all manner of craftwork.
By five, they’d all had it and returned to the bus stop for the return trip to Southampton. LouAnne nudged T.J. and discretely pointed over to where Ronnie was dozing, her mop of curls resting comfortably on Bortnicker’s shoulder.
As she rose to disembark at her Somerset stop, Ronnie reminded the Americans to be at the dive shop by ten the next day. “We’ve got a pirate wreck to explore tomorrow!” She bounced down the aisle and off the bus, her energy magically restored.
Back at the hotel, the teens quickly showered and joined Mike and Tom Sr., who were plowing through their tuna steaks. “You’ve gotta try this, guys,” said Tom Sr. “Mike made this marinade that’s a killer.”
“Don’t mind if we do,” said Bortnicker, pulling a couple of clean plates out of the kitchenette cupboard.
“None for me, thanks,” said LouAnne. “I’m still full from The Frog and Onion.”
The boys, who could seemingly eat around the clock, forked hunks of tuna steak onto their plates and dug in. “We had a great time today,” said T.J. “We visited a really cool spot for snorkeling and found some neat stuff. Want to see?”
“Sure,” said Tom Sr., sipping his iced tea.
LouAnne produced the china pieces that Bortnicker and Ronnie had brought up then proudly showed off her perfume bottle.
“Cool!” said Mike. “This is like a perfect warm-up for tomorrow. Who knows what you’ll find on that wreck site?”
Bortnicker then went on to describe their exploration of the Royal Naval Dockyard with Ronnie Goodwin.
“This girl sounds pretty interesting,” said Tom Sr. “Will she be on the boat with you guys tomorrow?”
“She usually handles the shop when her dad has a charter out on the water,” said Bortnicker, “but I wouldn’t be surprised if she ends up with us.”
“Really?” said Mike. “Any particular reason, Bortnicker?”
He blushed and quipped, “The girl has an obvious fascination with history.”
They all had a laugh at that one.
“Well,” said Tom Sr., “I guess this is as good a time as any to tell you that the committee has accepted my proposal for the renovations at the golf club. So, for the next few days I’ll be putting together the team that will be doing the actual building and interviewing local contractors. Lots to do. I’ll get away when I can.”
“Right,” said Mike. “So let’s meet downstairs at 9:00 a.m. sharp tomorrow. Make sure you have all your diving stuff, and I’ll pack the cameras. I tried out the underwater camcorder in the pool, and it works great. You’ll be filming, LouAnne?”
“No problem. I even went snorkeling today, thanks to T.J.”
“Then, that’s it for today,” said Mike with a yawn. “Rest up. Tomorrow, the adventure really begins!”
Chapter Fifteen
“You’ve definitely improved since last year, Cuz,” said LouAnne as they approached the halfway point on the Railway Trail. “You’re running much more free and easy.”
“Thanks,” said T.J., who was matching her stride for stride. “It wasn’t as hard to get back into it after baseball ended as I thought.”
“I think we’ll try to get one more practice run in on Thursday, then rest our legs on Friday so we’re fresh for the race.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Above the runners a slight breeze caused droplets of rainwater from an overnight shower to pepper them with refreshing moisture. “Hey, did you enjoy your afternoon at the Royal Dockyard?”
“Yeah. It’s cool how they turned that fort into shops and all. And the Maritime Museum was interesting. I guess there’s only one place left to check out, and that’s Hamilton.”
“Well, on Wednesdays they have this thing called Harbour Night. Supposed to be like this big outdoor festival on Front Street where the cruise ships dock. Dad said something about going into Hamilton for dinner at an Italian place he knows and then checking out Harbour Night.”
“Sounds great, but don’t you sometimes get the feeling we’re kinda losing focus on why we’re here?”
“Huh?”
“I mean, I’ve only been on the island a day or so and I feel like I’m on vacation, instead of a ghost hunting expedition.”
“Well, today’s dive should get everybody focused. Not that we’re really gonna find anything major—”
“You don’t think so?”
“Cuz, even Mike said that the dive segment is just a part of the ‘local color’ deal. I bet if the TV show airs it’ll be less than five minutes. But it’ll give me and Bortnicker a chance to do some real diving in clear water, and I’ve been looking forward to that since we started the course with Capt. Kenny.”
“Speaking of Bortnicker, could he be any more into Ronnie? He follows her around like a puppy dog.”
“Excuse me for saying this, Cuz, but she’s pretty easy to follow. Besides, she pays a lot of attention to him, which, believe me, has never happened since I’ve known him.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Is she coming along on the boat today?”
“I wouldn’t bet against it. Race you to the end?”
“Let’s do it!” she said, and they sprinted off together.
* * * *
Chappy turned into the Jobson’s Cove Apartments driveway to find Mike and his team ready to go, their dive equipment neatly bagged. The teens were sporting their flashy JGGC tee shirts, which they would be wearing in the water.
In the car, Mike turned from the passenger seat and told his team that he was looking for some exciting footage. “We’re not here to look at coral and fish, guys,” he reminded. “Anything and everything that could give us a clue as to the ship’s identity is what we want.
“I spoke to Jasper Goodwin this morning, and he’s actually going to give you dudes a kind of handheld metal detector that you can wave around over anything you think isn’t natural. Who knows what you might find?”
“Cool!” said Bortnicker. “I wouldn’t mind some doubloons or pieces of eight.”
“Keep dreaming,” cautioned T.J. “That wreck had to have been picked over centuries ago.”
“Don’t be so negative, Cuz,” scolded LouAnne. “The least you could do is show me something exciting while I’m filming.”
“Okay, okay,” said T.J. “But jeez, don’t get too hopeful about all this.”
“Hey, uh, Mike,” said Bortnicker, “did Mr. Goodwin mention whether his daughter was coming?”
“As a matter of fact, dude, she is,” said Mike with a sly grin. “Apparently, she asked onto the trip, so her dad’s got some part-time employee watching the shop. Is that okay with all of you?”
“Uh-huh,” said LouAnne.
“Fine with me,” said T.J.
“As long as she doesn’t get in the way,” offered Bortnicker, trying to hide his excitement.
“Hey, Chappy,” said T.J., “you ever go diving?”
“No, not for me, T.J.,” he answered. “I’m like Miss LouAnne bac
k there. I’d rather be on top of the water looking down than on the bottom looking up.”
“Gotcha.”
“But I have to say,” he added, “that I have a strange feeling about today. In a good way, that is. I think you’re going to find something interesting.”
“See?” said LouAnne, elbowing her cousin in the ribs. “Positive thinking!”
They arrived at Blue Lagoon and carried their bags around back where Jasper Goodwin, Ronnie, and Skeeter were securing the dive tanks to their holders along the inner sides of the gunwales. Ronnie took a second from her work to shoot them a quick wave.
The team handed their bags down to Skeeter and then stepped aboard. It was a perfect day to dive; there was hardly a cloud in the sky and only the slightest hint of breeze, which would help decrease the amount of chop on the water.
“Welcome to Reef Seeker II,” said Jasper, shaking hands first with Weinstein before greeting the teens. “And you will be our film photographer?” he asked LouAnne with a brilliant smile.
“That’s me—the scaredy-cat,” she answered.
“Well, I’ve got a great float for you to use that I’ve rigged a tow line to, so you’ll be able to have both hands free to maneuver your camera.”
LouAnne, relieved, gave the captain a thumbs-up.
“A few more minutes, folks, and we’ll be underway. We’re going to have a bit of a trip ahead of us to get to our destination because we’re on the other side of the island. So, we’ll leave this cove and push on to that bridge near where you went snorkeling yesterday, then take a left and follow the coast to a point a few miles off Gibbs Hill Lighthouse, where I found the wreck. Don’t worry, I have the coordinates locked into my GPS, so we’ll be over the exact spot in about an hour.
“I’ve also taken the liberty of packing some sandwiches and bottled water for you. I figure we’ll be good for two dives today, about 45 minutes each. Conditions seem to be optimal, though that could change out there. Let’s get cracking, then!” He clapped his hands for emphasis as Skeeter fired up the twin inboard engines that shattered the quiet air with a sense of purpose.
They threw off the mooring lines and slowly crept away from the dock, observing the 5 mph wake rule that was posted on a buoy nearby. As LouAnne and Mike lounged on seats near the stern, Ronnie helped the boys check out their BCD vests and other equipment. She fitted them with weighted belts and pointed out the tanks they’d be using. The boys grew more excited with anticipation as the Reef Seeker II left the cove, and Skeeter opened her up, speeding for the bridge where they could shortcut to the South Shore.
They passed Treasure Beach and turned left, skirting the shore, maneuvering in and out of the reefs. Here and there another boat passed and they waved, but little was said, each member of the party alone with his thoughts. T.J. and Bortnicker went through Capt. Kenny’s safety checklist while LouAnne prayed she wouldn’t foul up the filming.
Finally the Gibbs Hill Lighthouse came into view, and the Reef Seeker II began to slow as Jasper and Skeeter picked their way through the reefs, some of which were barely submerged. Skeeter then went to the front of the bow and gave Jasper hand signals to go left or right. The boat was now crawling, heightening the team’s tension.
Finally they came to a clearing, and Skeeter flashed the stop sign. Jasper checked his GPS coordinates. “Brilliant!” he called out. “We’re right over it!” LouAnne, who was sitting next to her cousin, gave his thigh a quick supportive squeeze.
Jasper flicked off the ignition and immediately sent the remotely controlled anchor spinning downward. After a few seconds the chain line went slack; Skeeter set the anchor, and gave Jasper a thumbs-up.
“Okay, boys,” said the captain, pulling up a deck chair. “Let’s make sure of our hand signals, shall we?” As he called them out, T.J. and Bortnicker showed him Distress, Danger, Okay, Out of Air, and other gestures they’d been taught in Connecticut. Satisfied with their responses, he gave them the dive plan as Mike stood nearby. “All righty then. You’ll be doing two dives today, each approximately 45 minutes in length. The first, for which I’ll accompany you as a precaution, is solely for the purpose of becoming acclimated with your equipment and surroundings.
“You’ll notice the outline of a few timbers, if you look closely, and also a somewhat scattered pile of ballast stones. There are also a couple cannon. Of course, everything’s going to be encrusted with marine growth; that’s to be expected. Believe me, it takes a trained eye to make out anything of note, so don’t get frustrated if nothing jumps out at you, so to speak.
“Now, you’ll be diving in relatively shallow water, so if you find yourself in any sort of trouble give us a signal and ascend. There are some reefs about, but we’d rather you stay off them unless absolutely necessary, for two reasons. First, stepping on them can damage the marine life. Second, some species of coral are extremely sharp and will slice right through a flipper or your diving gloves. Okay so far?”
The boys nodded intently, and T.J. could feel his stomach knotting the same way it had before his training dive in Bridgeport Harbor.
“Right. Just one more thing. The water has been rather warm lately, so I wouldn’t expect any unwelcome visitors in the area, though a few barracuda might pass by, which you’ll do best to steer clear of and calmly ignore. But Skeeter will keep a close watch on the surrounding area for any signs of sharks. If he sees something, even off in the distance, his signal to us will be to start the boat’s engine. Even underwater, the sound will be unmistakably clear. But again, I wouldn’t worry about that. So, are we ready?”
“You know it,” said Bortnicker, putting on his brave face for Ronnie, who stood to the side with her arms crossed.
“Brilliant. Then get your BCD vests on and check your regulators. I’d like to be in the water in a few.”
Ronnie and LouAnne assisted as the boys rigged up, giving the thumbs-up as they took a few breaths through their regulators. Jasper helped fit on their tanks, and they spat in their masks before swishing some saltwater around. Goodwin adjusted his own kit quickly and then toppled backward off the gunwale into the water after a quick thumbs up.
“What time you got?” said T.J., checking his Capt. Kenny dive watch.
“Eleven-thirty,” answered Bortnicker.
“Okay, so we’ve got till 12:15, max.”
“I’m going to have LouAnne film my sound bite as you guys jump in,” said Mike. “Then I’ll help her over the side with the float, and it’s showtime.”
“Good luck, guys,” said Ronnie, who quickly leaned over and gave Bortnicker a peck on the cheek. LouAnne opted for a fist bump with each boy. And then, one at a time, they copied Jasper’s backward tumble into the turquoise water.
T.J. effected a slow drift down, adjusting his BCD to counteract his weighted belt. After clearing his ears at about twelve feet, it was an easy descent to the bottom.
Capt. Kenny, you were so right, he thought as a palette of nature’s colors bloomed around him. One hundred percent visibility. He glanced over at Bortnicker, who gave him a clenched-fist “Yeah!” signal. It was all he could do to slow his breathing so as not to gulp oxygen. While Jasper Goodwin swam about on the fringes, probably looking for a spiny lobster or two, the boys glided along a couple feet off the bottom, trying to make out the shapes Goodwin had mentioned on the boat. This isn’t as easy as it looks on TV, thought T.J.
But then, ten minutes or so into the dive, he saw Bortnicker pointing to a mound of some sort. Swimming over, he realized that it was a pile of three cannon, each about six feet long, heavily encrusted with coral and fuzzy sea growth. They looked like the Lincoln Logs he’d played with as a boy.
Their next discovery was a ragged hill of ballast stones, each roughly the size of a peewee football. They were making progress.
Soon a splash was felt overhead, and a dark shape sent a shadow over the bottom. Momentarily panicked, the divers peered up to see it was only LouAnne positioning her float over the wreck site. Bortni
cker looked at T.J. and patted his chest as if to say, “She almost gave me a heart attack!” T.J. nodded, then relaxed. He inflated his BCD a bit to get a view from higher up of the site, hoping that some other shapes would reveal themselves. This proved fruitful, as he was able to somewhat identify the ghostly remainders of the ship’s timbers below. As Jasper had told them that first day at Blue Lagoon, it was a sloop, not a full-blown Spanish galleon. He motioned to Bortnicker to join him, and pointed out the faint outlines of the timbers. Bortnicker nodded and gave him a thumbs-up of recognition.
Just then a couple barracuda drifted by them, their razor sharp teeth evident as they flashed a slightly menacing smile. But nothing could deter T.J. or his friend. They were having the time of their lives.
The boys made a couple more passes, then spied Goodwin giving them the sign to ascend. Locating the anchor rope, they found their way back to the Reef Seeker II with no problem. Mike helped them aboard, where Ronnie was ready to help unhook their tanks.
“Awesome!” blurted Bortnicker the second his mask was off.
“Really, really cool,” agreed T.J. “It was worth all the lessons.”
“Any sunken treasure, dudes?” asked Mike eagerly.
“Nada,” answered Bortnicker, accepting a bottled water from LouAnne, “but we saw a few cannon-”
“And we can tell the front of the ship from the back. It’s not all that big, really. But the scenery down there’s incredible,” added T.J. He turned to his cousin. “Got any good footage?”
“Won’t know till we look at it later,” she said, “but it was cool when you guys pointed stuff out and got all worked up.”
“Didja see the barracuda swimming around us?” asked T.J. as he shucked his BCD vest.
“Yeah, and about a million other fish,” she answered. “Very photogenic.”
By this time, Goodwin had removed all of his gear and had downed a couple bottles of water. “Great dive, boys,” he said, wiping his mouth. “You’ve obviously been trained well. Now, have a sandwich and relax a little, and I’ll speak to you before our second dive.”
Spirits of the Pirate House Page 12