Coral Sea Affair

by Drew Lindsay

Rick Turner’s dive shop was tucked away in Davidson Street, just off the main Port Douglas shopping strip. It was originally an old weatherboard Queenslander, surrounded by banana trees and bougainvillea. The thick foliage remained, though well controlled. The weatherboard was painted brilliant white and the old sash windows at the front had been replaced by large sliding aluminium windows and door.

  “Rick’s Dive Shop” had been the original sign attached prominently over the entrance. The new sign read “Rick’s Dive Shop and Boutique”

  Joy and Ben walked up two timber steps to a short veranda and entered the shop. A loud beep sounded as they interrupted the photo electric cell at the door.

  Inside was cool. Soft music played. To the right stood racks of colourful women’s and men’s clothing and shelves of shoes, belts and other apparel accompaniments. To the left stood a large glass and timber counter filled with every imaginable piece of diving equipment. Wet suits of all sizes, styles and colours were on racks to the rear of the shop. Dozens of scuba tanks stood against the wall behind the counter. Glass shelves were piled with regulators, dive computers, pressure and depth gauges. Fins and masks hung everywhere. Spear guns, knives and harpoons were displayed on the wall. Diving manuals, brochures and magazines, littered the top of the counter.

  ‘Joy Mackay. What are you doing here?’ came a melodious voice from somewhere at the back of the shop. A very large man with an even larger smile approached. He was around 30, had short cropped blond frizzy hair and a red chubby face. His shirt was splattered with a motif of bright yellow orchards on a background of blue. Pale pink cargo pants and bare feet completed the ensemble.

  ‘Good Lord Rick. What’s that getup you’re wearing?’

  ‘Isn’t it just to die for?’ purred Rick, quickly enveloping Joy in a bear hug and almost squeezing the life out of her. He looked Ben up and down. ‘And who do we have here?’

  ‘Ben Hood,’ said Joy, regaining her breath. ‘He’s a friend of mine.’

  ‘Then my friend also,’ said Rick, pumping Ben’s hand enthusiastically.

  ‘I’d like to rent or buy some scuba diving gear,’ said Ben.

  ‘I do both. Where did you find this hunk Joy?’

  ‘Ben’s doing some security with the movie people up here just now.’

  Rick put his hands to each side of his red cheeks. ‘My God, not that Simon Sutherland masterpiece. What I wouldn’t give to meet him for a quiet drink and a game of whatever.’

  ‘Rick, we’re here for diving gear.’

  ‘Of course. Sorry my love. I’ve been meaning to call you. How are you coping? Such a dreadful loss.’

  ‘I’m coping as best I can. Can’t do much else.’

  ‘I’ve seen your posters up around the town. Not giving up hope are you pet?’

  ‘Never.’

  Rick looked somewhat awkward. He turned to Ben. ‘Now what would you like?’

  ‘The works. Short sleeved wet suit, mask and fins, weights, tank, regulator and an underwater light. I also need some kind of waterproof bag to carry some equipment.’

  ‘Sounds exciting. Night dive?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘It’s connected with the movie Rick. Security clearance.’

  ‘I understand. Let me get some stuff out. I only stock the best quality.’

  Ben examined a rather sophisticated diving rig standing in a rack by the side of the counter. Rick dropped some fins on the counter and joined him.

  ‘Rebreather?’ asked Ben.

  ‘Poseidon Discovery Mk V1. State of the art. You don’t want bubbles?’

  ‘I’d prefer not. I’m only going shallow and I may need more time than a tank can give me.’

  ‘You need to be certified to use this,’ said Rick. ‘This is specialised equipment, not to mention the huge rental price.’

  ‘I don’t have time to get certified,’ said Ben.

  ‘Then I really can’t rent it to you.’

  ‘Rick,’ said Joy in a determined tone. ‘Ben knows what he’s doing.’

  Rick looked helpless.

  ‘Be a dear and get it ready for him.’

  ‘Joy….’

  ‘It can’t be that much different to SCUBA,’ said Ben.

  Rick picked up the rebreather and laid it on the counter. ‘It’s very light compared to SCUBA. It has two fairly small tanks as you can see. One is pure oxygen and the other is compressed air. The compressed air cylinder was added to the rig to accommodate deeper dives where pure oxygen would be toxic.’

  ‘I understand,’ said Ben.

  ‘Its computer managed. Quite foolproof actually but the maintenance has to be spot on.’

  ‘We’ll take it,’ said Joy. ‘You just make sure it’s ready to go.’

  ‘What’s your certification Ben? Please tell me you have something?’

  ‘Divemaster. PADI.’

  ‘Recent?’

  ‘1980.’

  ‘My God! That’s before I was born!’

  Joy flashed him an unmistakable look.

  ‘OK. OK. I’ll get the rig ready. It will take me about half an hour.’

  Ben picked up a small diving torch from one of the shelves. It had straps to be head mounted. ‘LED?’

  ‘Yep. State of the art.’

  ‘Like everything else in here,’ said Joy.

  ‘I can see you are in one of your moods Joy.’ He turned back to Ben. ‘NuDive is the brand and it’s around 300 lumens, fully adjustable light mode with an SOS strobe setting.’

  ‘Impressive,’ said Ben. ‘I have a bit of a thing for torches.’

  ‘I can’t rent you this one.’

  ‘I’ll buy it,’ said Ben. How much?’

  Rick looked at Joy. Joy held his gaze.

  ‘I normally sell it for $160. It’s state of the art.’

  Joy took a step towards him.

  ‘Fifty bucks cash.’

  ‘Done,’ said Ben, pulling the money from his wallet.

  ‘Would you like to take it with you now?’

  ‘Just put it with the other gear,’ said Joy. We’ll be back in half an hour.’

  ‘The batteries are extra,’ said Rick.

  ‘I’ll take Lithium’s if you have them said Ben.

  ‘Of course I have them.’

  ‘And I’d also like to see if one of those colourful shirts over there fit me.’

  Rick’s face lit up. ‘Certainly. I’ve just got in the orchard and hibiscus range. I know just the thing for you.’

  Joy shook her head and busied herself with some magazines. Rick fitted Ben with a brilliant floral shirt. Ben paid in cash and the shirt was deposited in a pale blue ‘Rick’s Dive Shop and Boutique’ carry bag.

  ‘You’ve been very helpful Rick,’ said Ben. I appreciate your assistance.’

  Rick shrugged. Joy approached him and kissed him gently on the cheek. ‘Thanks old friend. Winston would love you for this.’

  Tears formed in Rick’s large hazel eyes. ‘I would do anything to bring him back Joy.’

  She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it immediately. She left the shop quickly and Ben hurried to catch up.

  They stowed the diving equipment in Joy’s cavernous garage underneath her house. In the process, Ben noticed a few old leather bags lying in a basket in a corner. They were covered with dust. He picked up one of the bags which had a thick shoulder strap and unbuckled the flap.

  ‘Winston picked those up at the Sunday markets about a year ago. Lord knows what he was going to do with them. He’d collect anything.’

  ‘I need something to sling over my back that will hold the revolver and a few tools. I want both hands free.’

  ‘Take anything you want,’ said Joy.

  Ben dropped the leather bag on a nearby work bench. ‘Did Winston keep any knives?’

  Joy opened a drawer at the bottom of a metal filing cabinet and stood back. Ben could see at least a dozen kni
ves of various shapes and sizes. He selected a long bladed imitation bowie knife with a black leather bound handle. It was a nasty looking weapon and razor sharp. ‘No sheath for this one I guess,’ said Ben.

  ‘Leave it with me. I’ve got some leather upstairs and a heavy duty machine. I’ll put something together for you this afternoon. We used to make wallets and little leather bags and sell them at the markets. Stopped doing that years ago.’

  Ben rummaged through Winston’s vast array of tools and accumulated junk. He picked a pair of insulated wire cutters, a half sized hacksaw and a roll of electrical tape. All these items went into the leather bag. ‘I’ll pick them up tomorrow night.’

  ‘When should I expect you?’

  ‘About 8 pm I’d say. I don’t want to be anywhere near Skull Island until after midnight.’

  Joy stood silently for a while. When she finally spoke, it was in a whisper as she was close to tears. ‘You are my last hope Ben. My last shred of hope.’

  Ben said nothing. He swung his leg over the bike seat, kicked up the stand and put the helmet on. ‘I’ll ring you just before I head this way.’

  She nodded.

  “****”

  Chapter Thirty Three