Cave Diver

by Jake Avila

  Mia was first in the boat, followed by Kevin, then Keso, who pushed them out into deeper water, before hopping in barefoot.

  After yanking the pull cord a few times, Kevin got the outboard firing, and they motored out into the river. They were level with the wharf when the engine abruptly coughed and died. Kevin frowned and checked the settings. He tried the pull cord several times, to no avail.

  ‘I don’t understand it,’ he said, red-faced with exertion and perhaps embarrassment. Grabbing hold of one of the twenty-five-litre fuel tanks, he gave it a shake, and then did the same to the other. ‘Sweet Mary, Jesus and Joseph. The little cunt has stolen my fuel again!’

  Mia might have laughed but for Keso’s mortified expression.

  ‘There’ll be another bloody hole in the wire,’ Kevin fumed as he fitted one oar to the rowlock, ‘and I’ll have to drive back to the mission.’ Gauging the distance back to the Land Rover, he grunted. ‘Damn it, it’ll be faster walking.’ Fitting the other oar, he rowed them over to the mossy steps leading down from the wharf. Retrieving the fuel cans, he got out. ‘Keso, you stay here with Mia. Don’t go anywhere, understand? I’ll be back in half an hour.’

  Keso gave Mia an apologetic grin. They sat in companionable silence for several minutes. Mia was staring at the cluster of thatched huts across the river, thinking how beautiful they were, when suddenly she felt water soaking through her shoes. Looking down, she cried out in alarm.

  ‘We’re sinking!’

  Oblivious with his feet up on the seat, Keso was stunned.

  ‘Mas be plagim.’

  While he searched for the bung, she retrieved her bags from the rising water and put them on the steps. Then she hopped out, too. The water was now several centimetres deep and the bottoms of her trouser legs were wet.

  ‘Bos, bot sinkim!’ cried Keso, grabbing the oars. ‘Mi pul long!’

  Nodding, Mia undid the tatty rope, which would surely break. It was twenty metres to the nearest bank, and Keso began rowing like mad to try and save the sinking boat. Mia glanced into the water and decided there was no point staying down here with the crocodiles. Picking up her bags, she squelched up the steps.

  Chapter 15

  East Sepik Province, Papua New Guinea

  ‘We’re coming up on Timbunke,’ Kaboro announced, reducing power to negotiate a sweeping bend in the river. A picturesque village framed by several huge figs and stands of ancient palm trees came into view. Long, traditional reed houses were set on lush green lawns which ran down to a substantial wharf. A few dugout canoes were out fishing. Seeing the Albany, their occupants began to wave excitedly.

  ‘It’s a tourist trap,’ Douglas explained, as men, women and children ran down to the shore and jumped into their canoes. ‘Cruise ships stop by for carvings and trinkets.’

  Kaboro proceeded carefully up the middle channel as a small fleet of hawkers paddled enthusiastically out to intercept them. Holding up carved wooden masks, sculptures and shields, they flashed lurid betel smiles while calling on them to stop. The Albany slowly drew level with the large and pitted concrete wharf where a group was gathered.

  ‘Something’s going on over there.’ Kaboro handed Nash his binoculars. ‘Could you please take a look?’

  Under magnification, Nash saw a Westerner in a wide-brimmed hat waving frantically. Then he did a double take.

  ‘It’s a woman.’

  It became clear she was struggling to keep a number of aggressive men at bay. One was holding a knife. Another was grabbing at her bag while she was distracted.

  ‘Kaboro, she’s in big trouble!’

  The lieutenant slowed immediately and sounded three blasts on the ship’s horn as he changed course. However, it was clear getting the Albany to the wharf amid a flotilla of jostling canoes was not going to be easy.

  Kaboro called out to Sergeant Singkepe, who was on the quarterdeck.

  ‘Be ready to fire a burst over their heads. We will have to take her aboard.’

  Drawn by the commotion, Sura appeared from her cabin next door, with Goki in tow.

  ‘What is going on, Lieutenant?’

  As Kaboro explained his intention, Sura’s frown grew.

  ‘But our contract expressly prohibits the picking up of passengers.’

  Nash stared at her. Was this the same woman he’d discussed shooting with last night.

  ‘Surely you’re not serious? This is an emergency.’

  ‘Lieutenant, I must insist that you follow your orders to the letter.’

  Kaboro seemed paralysed by indecision, but after a few seconds he astonished Nash by veering away and increasing power. In a panic, the tall woman broke free and ran along the edge of the wharf, waving and yelling. Two men ran after her and began dragging her back. Struggling, she lashed out. The smaller man fell over, clutching her bag.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Douglas called, as Nash exited the bridge. ‘Robbie!’

  Ripping off his shirt, Nash clambered over the safety rail on the port side quarterdeck. It was a five-metre drop to the river and, in the interests of getting to the woman as fast as possible, he dived as flat as he dared, striking the water in a great whump of spray.

  The river was warm and tasted like mud. On breaking the surface, he cut loose for the wharf in a powerful freestyle. The ship’s horn reverberated, signalling man overboard. Nash could feel the current pulling him sideways. The thought of what might be lurking in the murk lent extra speed to his stroke, and he quickly covered the forty metres to a long flight of slimy concrete steps, taking them two at a time.

  On the wharf, the situation had deteriorated. Fearful of being deprived of their prize by the approaching ship, three men were aggressively pulling the woman back and forth like a rag doll.

  ‘Baim kago! Baim kago!’ shouted a skinny man in jeans, trying to tear away her bags. A big strong guy in ragged shorts was enthusiastically thrusting himself against her, while the third circled with a knife.

  ‘Plis!’ the desperate woman implored the onlookers as she struggled to fight them off. ‘Helpim mi!’

  Her cries merely encouraged the onlookers to goad on her assailants instead.

  ‘Hariup!’ they roared. ‘Goan, fuck her!’

  The man in ragged shorts grabbed at the woman’s breasts. In the ensuing struggle, he took hold of her shirt, and in one savage motion tore it off. A lustful thrall fell over the men, the prelude to an all-out attack.

  ‘Let her go!’

  Nash’s enraged roar stopped everyone in their tracks. Barging a path through the crowd, he yanked the woman free.

  ‘Back off!’ he snarled at the men. ‘Go home, now!’

  Nash knew it was only his size – and the element of surprise – holding these men at bay. With his back to the river, he desperately wanted to know how close the Albany was to the wharf, but to look away for even for a second would show weakness.

  The big man in the ragged shorts fronted up.

  ‘Yu wanem, faka tu?’ he jeered, thrusting his hips forwards lasciviously.

  The men laughed, and the release of tension had an immediate and undesirable effect. A new opponent – this one a scarred, heavyset man with a bushy black beard – rushed forward, swinging a long-handled club at Nash’s head.

  Nash did not try to block the swing, because it would have broken his arm. Instead, he caught the club high before it could descend – an almighty slap which stung like hell. Ripping the weapon free, Nash raised it over his own head.

  ‘Come on!’ he bellowed in genuine rage. ‘You gutless pricks!’

  The bearded man stepped back in alarm as Nash swung the club in menacing arcs. His third swing caught the guy with the knife on the shoulder. Shrieking, he dropped the weapon. Suddenly, a deafening blast from the Albany’s siren split the air and a volley of gunshots whizzed overhead. The crowd broke and ran. The skinny man took off with the woman’s luggage. Weighed down, he had only made a few strides before Nash took his feet out from under him with a one-armed swi
ng. With a shout of pain, the man hobbled away empty-handed.

  The Albany’s big diesels seemed to growl in defiance as Kaboro switched to maximum reverse thrust, just metres from the wharf. The river boiled. Two sailors clutching hawsers jumped ashore to secure her.

  ‘Thank you,’ the woman shivered.

  Nash was instantly struck by her eyes – a hypnotic shade of electric blue which reminded him of something he could not put his finger on.

  ‘You’re welcome.’ He handed her the smaller of her bags and she held it protectively against her chest. The Albany’s fenders squealed under the shock of 235 tonnes nudging the concrete. Nash hoisted her backpack over his shoulder as the sailors finished roping ship to wharf. ‘Come on, let’s get out of here.’

  For a moment she hesitated, looked around. Then, with a shrug of her shoulders, she followed him aboard.

  Mindful of the hungry stares of the crew, he took her directly to his cabin to change, waiting outside in the passageway. She soon reappeared in a dark blue cotton shirt and white shorts. She was about his age, with rosy tanned skin which seemed to radiate vitality. Her pointed chin had a small dimple in the middle, and above sculpted lips her nose was straight, but for a small bump on the bridge. Her face was framed by thick and lustrous blond hair.

  ‘I’m Mia.’ She held out her hand. ‘Mia Carter. Thank you again.’ Her accent was American.

  ‘Rob Nash. Glad to help.’

  When they shook hands, he flinched.

  ‘Oh, you’re hurt! Let me take a look.’ Her slim fingers gently probed the bones and tendons of his hand. ‘It’s badly bruised,’ she said, ‘not broken. But you need to ice that.’

  ‘What about you?’ he said. ‘Are you OK?’

  ‘Me? I’m fine. A bit scared.’ She smiled. ‘Well, terrified actually. God, when I thought you weren’t going to stop . . .’

  ‘We weren’t.’

  Digesting this, she hesitated. ‘Look, I’m trying to get upriver, but my ride is having problems with his boat. Are you guys going far?’

  He nodded. ‘Across the border.’

  Her amazing eyes widened. ‘That’s where I’m going!’

  Nash realised the Albany was still tied up at the wharf.

  ‘Let’s head upstairs,’ he told her. ‘We can argue about it with the people in charge.’

  At the foot of the stairs they encountered Douglas.

  ‘Jesus, Robbie, you could have been cut to pieces by that mob.’

  ‘Mia, this is Frank. You’ll have to get used to his manners.’

  ‘Glad you’re in one piece, darling.’ Douglas perfunctorily shook her hand. ‘But a word to the wise – don’t ever do that again.’ Glancing up the stairwell, he made a face. ‘They’re not too happy up there, Robbie.’

  ‘You think I give a shit?’

  Both quarterdeck and bridge were crowded with the Indonesian contingent, Lieutenant Kaboro, and Sergeant Singkepe, who was cradling a light machine gun. Nash gave him a nod.

  ‘Thanks for watching my back.’

  ‘Playing the hero, hey, Nash?’ Boerman sneered. ‘Better late than never, I suppose.’

  ‘Everybody, this is Mia Carter.’

  While Kaboro and Singkepe said hello, the rest stared in stony-faced silence.

  ‘Thank you so much for stopping.’ Mia proceeded smoothly in the vacuum. ‘I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t.’

  Sura’s slim eyebrows formed two sceptical arches. ‘Well, you didn’t give us much of an option, did you? What are you doing out here anyway?’

  ‘My ride went back to the mission for petrol. Then our boat started to sink.’ Mia pointed to the riverbank, where a half-submerged tinnie was visible among the reeds. ‘Poor Keso must have run when the shooting started.’

  Sura frowned. ‘You’re staying here?’

  ‘Just passing through.’ Mia glanced hopefully at Nash, who cleared his throat.

  ‘Mia could use a ride upriver.’

  At once Sura replied coolly, ‘Totally impossible. This is a private expedition. When your friends from the mission return, you must go with them.’

  Douglas shook his head. ‘Half that bloody village will be on the warpath by now.’ He turned to Mia. ‘Look, where exactly do you need to go?’

  ‘Just across the border. The Ford Hospital Mission – I’m a doctor.’

  At this, Sura turned strangely pale. ‘Why didn’t you fly direct from Jayapura?’

  The light in Mia’s blue eyes dimmed. ‘The airspace up there is closed until further notice. I have a current visa, but the Indonesian authorities won’t tell me what’s going on. I’m very worried about my friends.’

  Sura had heard enough.

  ‘Doctor Carter, this vessel is owned by an Indonesian company, and if my government has closed the area, surely you understand we cannot take you there?’

  Nash decided he had heard enough, too.

  ‘Look, Sura, I don’t know what the problem is, but leaving Mia here is clearly not an option. So, either we give her a ride, or I’m getting off, too.’

  ‘Fuck off, Nash,’ interjected Boerman indignantly. ‘You can’t bleddy –’

  ‘Mr Boerman!’ snapped Kaboro. ‘Watch your language on my bridge.’

  Immediately Singkepe came to attention with a stamp of his right boot.

  In the silence that followed, Mia stared thoughtfully at the lieutenant.

  ‘This vessel is flying a PNG flag. Are you in command, sir?’

  Kaboro’s body language suggested he wished otherwise.

  ‘So long as we remain in PNG waters, yes.’

  ‘Then consider this a formal request from an American citizen. Will you please take me away from this village? I think my life is in danger.’ Mia looked pointedly over at Sura. ‘Hopefully, that should have no impact on Indonesian foreign affairs.’

  At that moment, Nash happened to be looking at Goki. Almost imperceptibly, the man shook his head at Sura, who looked fit to implode. Who was really in charge here?

  Kaboro gathered himself and stood a little straighter.

  ‘With respect, Ms Suyanto, although this vessel belongs to your organisation, under powers invested in me by the government of Papua New Guinea, and in accordance with the rules of maritime law, it is my decision as commanding officer that we will take Dr Carter as far as the Indonesian border, but no further.’

  ‘Thank you so much.’ Mia smiled in relief. ‘I’m incredibly grateful. If I could ask just one more favour, Lieutenant, can you please get a message to Kevin? Otherwise they might worry at the mission.’

  ‘Very well.’

  Sura’s oval face was a mask of disapproval.

  ‘You will hear more about this, Lieutenant.’

  ‘Of that I have no doubt,’ Kaboro replied wearily. Turning to Nash and Douglas, he said, ‘Will you please escort Doctor Carter to your cabin? You gentlemen will have to bunk with the crew for a while.’

  With that, he leaned out of the port-side window and ordered his men to cast off.

  ‘I seem to have caused one hell of a fuss,’ Mia said once they were below. ‘What on earth is their problem?’

  ‘We’re still trying to figure that out,’ replied Nash, as a shuddering Albany began to move off.

  Mia’s eyes filled with curiosity. ‘What are you guys doing here, then?’

  Douglas flashed a warning look, but Nash merely shrugged.

  ‘We’re shooting a documentary.’

  ‘For Indonesian TV? Are you cameramen or something?’

  ‘I’m a diver. Frank’s a pilot.’

  ‘You don’t say?’ She smiled at them. ‘I wouldn’t have thought there’d be much to see in the muddy old Sepik.’

  ‘The plan is to explore a cave.’

  ‘I’ll get my gear out,’ announced Douglas stiffly.

  Without looking back, he descended the ladder. Mia made a face at Nash.

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.’

  ‘It’s nothing. W
hat’s the story with your hospital?’

  A look of concern came over her and she lowered her voice. ‘They haven’t been in contact for weeks. I didn’t want to say anything upstairs, but the Indonesian military is behind it. They’re the only ones with the power to shut everything down like this.’

  Nash felt a stab of worry for her. ‘You sure it’s safe going in there on your own?’

  ‘I’m having my doubts,’ she admitted, ‘but once we get to the border it’s not far, and I know some of the local people. They’ll take care of me.’

  As she explained her connection to the hospital, Nash found himself increasingly drawn to her. She reminded him of Natalie in her total commitment to the things she believed in.

  Returning to the cabin, Nash switched on the fan and collected up his belongings.

  ‘Well, if you need anything, it won’t take long to find me.’

  ‘Thank you, Rob.’

  Her eyes held his for a moment longer than expected, and then he remembered where he’d seen that electric blue colour before. The Nullarbor halocline. Nash was processing the fact that he was attracted to Mia Carter when Natalie’s ghost crashed like a boulder into the pit of his stomach. His pillow fell to the deck. And when Mia handed it back, her fingertips brushing his felt like sweet little knives.

  Chapter 16

  (Date unknown – Saturday, June 9th, 1945?)

  I have learned from Unterscharführer Müller (whose boils I am treating) that we are now five hundred kilometres up the Sepik River in Papua New Guinea. Heider now travels by day because there is so much debris in the water. Today we heard distant planes. God, how I prayed for them to find us, but none came near.

  I have been put to work helping the SS camouflage the submarine. The work is terrible, and my hands are a mess. We cut vegetation and branches from the riverbanks and ferry them to the submarine by dinghy. Crocodiles are a constant threat. The sun beats down mercilessly on the steel decks and the submarine is like an oven. No one can handle it below deck during the day, which is why I caught my first sight of Ilse. She was on the conning tower with a parasol, looking pale and withdrawn. Not once would she meet my eye. It has upset me tremendously. Heider barks orders and scans the swampy forest on both sides of the river for natives, whom he shoots with either the heavy machine gun or sometimes a hunting rifle. I believe the SS grow restless. It’s obvious that they do not share Heider’s motivations, but their fear of him keeps them silent. Apparently, he has banned all BBC radio broadcasts and they are growing resentful at being kept in the dark. I am hoping for a mutiny. The longer this goes on, the more likely it seems the men will take matters into their own hands.