Aurora's Gold

by K. J. Gillenwater

  I wondered if my new diver would show or if he’d been snatched by someone else on his way to the docks. That had been known to happen. Loyalties were fleeting in Nome, especially if a dredge captain couldn’t bring the gold.

  As the only woman in Nome who ran a dredge, I had more obstacles to overcome. The assumption was Buck Darling had given me a leg up because I was his daughter, not because I’d earned my way to the top. I knew how to operate the machinery, and I’d built up the stamina to dive in the cold water of the Bering for hours at a time. With my dad beside me, I’d been protected from what dredgers really believed about my abilities and my work ethic. But after his accident, the patronizing comments and expectations for my failure didn’t remain behind closed doors any longer.

  “Rory, didn’t think I’d see you out here.” The familiar voice turned my blood to ice.

  Keep it cool.

  I looked up from refueling my equipment. Nate Frazier stood on the pier. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

  He looked bad, worse than when he’d left the dredge last summer with a broken nose and a pocketful of pickers from the sluice box. Yes, his nose had a decided bent to it. But his cheeks had hollowed out, his once thick hair had thinned considerably, and his skin looked the same color as lye soap. Not the robust diver I remembered.

  “Your dad owes me.” He took a step onto my dredge. It dipped at the additional two-hundred pounds of weight. Dredges weren’t the sturdiest of things. Built for hauling gold from the sea floor, not for sailing the open waters. Too much wind, and you had to head to town to avoid being sunk. Top heavy with equipment, flat bottomed and typically loaded with second-hand, and sometimes third-hand, motors and machinery—the money went into the fuel most of the time, rather than replacing stuff. “About twenty grand for my half of the business, if I’ve calculated right. Told me he’d pay up after ice season. Now it’s July.”

  Nate knew my situation, and he wanted to take advantage. I had no idea if the conversation had even happened between my father and him. I’d been the dutiful daughter, not really paying attention to the business end of things. I ran the comms and other topside equipment, bought the fuel with cash my dad gave me, kept us in tuna fish and peanut butter sandwiches, did some of the diving, but my father had been the one with his hands on the bank account and the business. Not me.

  Only in the last week or so did I know how bad things were, how much my father had hidden from me. Either he didn’t want me to worry or he thought he could dig himself out of a financial hole before I knew anything about it. Knowing my father, it was probably the latter.

  “That’s between you and Buck.” I kept my gaze on filling the generator, checking to make sure I didn’t spill any gasoline. I could barely afford what I put in and couldn’t waste any due to inattentiveness. “I don’t know anything about owing you money or you owning half the business. As I recall, Buck let you walk off of here with gold that wasn’t yours to begin with.”

  My peripheral vision caught movement. Nate stood over me. Although he’d lost weight and only had me outsized by a few inches, my gut clenched. I remembered the dark look that had settled over his features when he’d walked off the dredge, nose dripping bright red blood.

  “He owes me.” He wrapped his hand around my forearm and forced me to look at him directly. “Half this dredge is mine.”

  “Hey.” I flinched and curled my arm inward. “You think I’ve got that kind of money on me?”

  Nate twisted it. “Maybe.” He leveled his gaze with mine. His brown eyes flashed in the morning sun.

  I felt as if he was reading me. Gauging my honesty. My arm hurt, but I didn’t show it. Fear nibbled around the edges of my brain.

  He let go and leaned casually against the navigation wheelhouse. “I heard you have a new diver. Some military expert.”

  I didn’t have time to deal with this creep. When he mentioned my diver, my hackles went up. “Where did you hear that?”

  “Around.” Nate took a toothpick out of the left front pocket of his plaid flannel shirt and stuck it between his teeth.

  I brushed past him into the wheelhouse to turn on the Aquacom equipment. “Hm.” I busied myself with the dials, knobs and switches. I turned over in my mind Nate’s claim that he owned half the dredge.

  “Not sure what a jarhead knows about dredging. Sure you know what you’re doing?” He gave me the smile of a Class-A jerk—cold and insincere. “Did you get Kyle’s okay?”

  “Guess you didn’t hear all the news. Kyle’s not working on the Alaska Darling anymore.” The emotional wound still hurt. He and my dad had been close. But that relationship didn’t override what had happened.

  Nate spat on the deck. “I always thought he was a pussy.” He grinned and showed his crooked teeth.

  “I need you off my dredge. I’ve got work to do.” My focus should be on finding gold today, not thinking about my father, Kyle or anyone else.

  Where was that damn diver?

  Nate shrugged. He pushed off the wheelhouse with his shoulders, hands in his pockets. “If you have a good day out there, you know I’ll come knocking. You get in touch with Buck, ask him. He knows what the situation is.” He headed aft.

  Unsettled emotions welled up inside. Fear, sadness, loss.

  Screw Nate for breaking my focus. I didn’t have time to be a girl today. I needed to suck it up and get out on the water.

  The dredge dipped and swayed. Nate finally left. Who knew if any money was owed. My dad and I had done so poorly over the ice season, we only had enough cash to get us through our winter rent payments and grocery bills. I didn’t have twenty thousand bucks laying around. And even if I did, I’d have a hard time forking it over to a lowlife like Nate. But he’d be back. Not only did he know my dad was out of the picture, Nate had learned Kyle was gone. I probably looked like an easy target, despite the right hook I’d delivered to his nose last year.

  Nate had rattled me. He didn’t have the best reputation in town. Well, comparatively speaking, he had a better reputation than half the Nome miners. But his penchant for drunken brawls, angry explosions, and occasional theft worried me. He’d gone out of his way to be here at 5 am. Most likely he’d been out carousing the night before with Lola Chang—a floozy who flitted from miner to miner during the gold season. Rumor had it Lola had cultivated a pretty wicked drug problem last winter and might be dealing. She’d been picked up by the local police for assault not too long ago, if I remembered right, and had spent a few days in the drunk tank.

  Having seen Nate with Lola in the past, I knew it couldn’t be good. If he’d picked up her habits (and his altered appearance suggested he may have), he could be more dangerous than he’d been last summer. He’d made a point of coming to see me rather than sleep it off in his yurt near the beach.

  The dredge rippled again. Was Nate back for more?

  I rushed out of the wheelhouse in mid-yell, “Get the hell off my dredge.”

  Ben, my brand new diver, stood on the deck, a full pack of gear on his back. “I thought we had a deal.”

  Shit.

  My mind blanked. I couldn’t think how to answer him.

  “So? Do we still have a deal?” Ben had shucked off his pack and stood, arms akimbo, looking like a combination between the Jolly Green Giant and Paul Bunyan.

  If I didn’t say something, he might walk. I found my voice. “Yes, deal still on.” Last thing my new diver needed was the sense his dredge captain was a raving lunatic. “I wasn’t yelling at you, just so you know.”

  He shrugged and glanced at Nate who climbed into his broken down Jeep.

  Guess Ben’s stint in the military had accustomed him to being yelled at. Compared to Nate and his unpredictable outbursts of anger, a man with a calm, cool demeanor was exactly what I needed. Although last night I’d been uncertain about Ben’s character based on his size and appearance, he exuded a steadiness I liked.

  “You can stow your gear in the wheelhouse while I get the engine primed.”
Ben wasted no time and slipped past me, depositing his pack next to a bench in the rear of the wheelhouse. “Then we can shove off, and I’ll explain to you how this all works.” I waved my hand at the controls.

  I headed aft to the outboard motor. I squeezed the gas bulb, put the shift lever in neutral, pulled out the choke, and yanked on the starter rope as hard as I could. The motor roared to life on my first attempt.

  Thank goodness.

  My dredge had been sitting unused for about five days. The Alaska Darling wasn’t the newest boat on the water, and sitting cold in the harbor the motor could give inconsistent results. Would’ve been quite embarrassing to have trouble starting it in front of my new employee.

  I slipped the rope off the mooring and pushed away from the pier. It would take us a good 20 minutes to get to our mining location.

  Ben stepped into the wheelhouse.

  I sat in the ‘captain’s chair’—really a torn up padded stool from a massage business that had gone under a decade ago—and switched on the GPS unit. As it came to life, I navigated around the other dredges tied up at the pier and made my way to the open water. The marked spot on the display made my stomach queasy, but there had been good gold there. At least an ounce an hour the day of the accident, Kyle had told me. I hoped this early in the day the chance of running into other miners on the public claims would be minimal.

  Ben took a seat on the beat-up plaid couch.

  I kept my eyes on the waves in front of me, set us straight on course, and tied off the wheel. We’d be fine for a few minutes, before I’d need to head us south toward the claim we’d be mining.

  “Let me show you how all of this equipment works.” I leaned against the plywood that made up the wheelhouse walls. “Before we do any diving I need to make sure you know what you’re doing.”

  “I know how to run a generator…and an outboard.”

  “There’s a lot more to running a dredge than a generator and an outboard.”

  He snorted.

  I knew what he was probably thinking: dumb girl what does she know about this equipment that I don’t know already? He probably thought he could run circles around me topside. “My dad and I have been running this dredge together for more than a decade.”

  “Really.” He sized me up. “So, what, you were ten when you got started?”

  I knew my answer wouldn’t instill a lot of confidence. “Twelve.”

  “Your parents let you operate a dredge—dive in the Bering Sea—when you were twelve?”

  “I didn’t dive, but I did run the equipment.”

  “All righty, captain.” Ben sat back and crossed his arms. “Tell me everything I need to know about your amazing watercraft.”

  Lord, I really did not need the sarcasm. I wanted a diver who could find me gold, not challenge my authority in the first five minutes. But what did I really expect when I hired the Beast last night in the dark, out on the street?

  It wouldn’t be easy convincing him I could run the dredge. Women weren’t supposed to be mechanical, weren’t supposed to be interested in this stuff. I should be at home, sitting on the couch, painting my toenails while binge watching something on Netflix.

  Well, I was not that woman. He’d have to learn.

  “This is the wheelhouse. We’ve got an underwater radio system.” I pointed out the Aquacom radio and handset next to the steering wheel. “Works just like a CB radio. Looks like you might be old enough to remember those.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Is that how this is going to go? You’re too young to be doing this; and I’m too old?”

  Good, I’d gotten a dig back at him.

  I continued without skipping a beat, “Topside has to keep up good communications with the diver. Do not leave the radio, unless you have an emergency. It’s only the two of us out here, if something goes wrong, we have to rely on each other.”

  “Got it.” His sudden seriousness told me he understood.

  “If you aren’t getting a response from me, try a double click on the receiver.” I picked up the handset and pressed on the button twice. Static-filled clicks sounded. “If you still aren’t getting a response, the next step is to tug on the hose. I’ll show you that outside in a minute. We also have a GPS unit.” I pointed at the screen, which displayed various dots and lines labeled with latitude and longitude. “Whenever we find good gold, we mark it in the GPS. That way, if we run out of daylight or the weather turns, we know where to come back to the next day. Very important.”

  “Check.”

  “We also have spare parts and tools back by the cooler.” I squeezed past his knees to the back of the wheelhouse. “Hoses, clamps, fuses. Stuff like that. I don’t have a lot here, you really can’t plan for everything, but our little stash has come in useful in the past. I’ve got some screwdrivers, a wrench—the usual.”

  Ben had gotten up and seemed to be taking a mental inventory of the parts. He picked up a roll of duct tape and smiled. Then, he systematically pawed through the cardboard boxes and a cabinet my dad had built in the corner. “Gas?”

  “Tied up behind the wheelhouse outside. I always bring three or four cans, more than enough to get through a full 14-hour day running the genny and the outboard.” What he didn’t know is, I’d only filled half the containers. I didn’t have enough cash for more than that. I depended on today being a decent day, even if I had to be the one who spent the most time under the water.

  “I’ve got sandwiches and drinks in here.” I opened the cooler.

  He nodded.

  I turned over the plan in my mind. Earlier I’d envisioned myself being the first to dive. I knew what I was doing down there. Ben was brand new and had no clue about dredging. But I wasn’t so certain this was a good plan after the dust up with Nate. Maybe I should stay top side and keep an eye on the sluice box. I needed every grain of gold dust I could find. And what did I know about Ben anyway? Not much.

  “You’re going to be diving first.” There. I’d done it. Changed my plans at the last minute. I had no idea if Ben even knew how to find gold, much less dive in Bering Sea conditions. “What kind of experience do you have again?” I realized I hadn’t even asked last night. I’d just been happy to find anyone willing to dive for me.

  “I was a Navy Diver for eight years. Pretty much done it all—salvage, rescue, maintenance.”

  “Military. I think Dave mentioned something about that.” I hoped he’d open up a bit about his past. Help me gauge his trustworthiness.

  “Dave?”

  “The pilot.” I stepped out onto the deck. “You flew in from…?” I sent out my bait, hoping he’d bite.

  “Right. You mentioned him.”

  Hm. Guess he wasn’t interested in talking much. “All right. “We’ve got some pretty important pieces of equipment up here. When you’re working top side, your responsibility includes taking care of the air compressor—we don’t use pressurized tanks, since we only dive about 10 or 15 feet down at the most. Sometimes 20. We use an air hose and a compressor to keep the air flowing to you under water.”

  Not sure if he knew that’s how we did our diving out here, but in this day and age he could find pretty much anything online. I hoped he had an interest to find out a little bit about what he was getting into before he flew up here from God knows where.

  “Then there’s the hot water. We pump hot water into your suit so you don’t freeze to death. The water out there, even in summer, is only about forty degrees.” I pointed to the exhaust system on the dredge motor. “We use the dredge pump to suck up the water, and this heat exchanger runs water through the mixing tank and into the hose. The hose connects to your suit below. We tape the air hose and the hot water hose to each other, so you don’t get a tangle problem.”

  Ben hovered over the dredge motor to see how it worked. Something else he didn’t know. Funny how knowledge leveled the playing field. I might not be his expectation of a gold dredger, but I knew my stuff.

  “Have any questions?”
/>   “How do you find the gold?”

  I held in a smile. I thought he’d ask about the air lines, the hot water. Of course he’d ask about the gold. He was a newbie after all.

  “Oh, yes, I forgot about the most important part, the suction hose.” I picked up the 6-inch hose we’d be using to suck up sand, rock and, hopefully, gold down on the ocean floor. “The dredge runs the hose. It’s got a lot of force, so you have to be careful and keep your hands away from the mouth.” I held up the hose for him to see how large a 6-inch opening actually was. I put my hand inside. “See how easy it is to get stuck?”

  He took the hose from me, feeling the heft of it. “Guess that’d make it kind of hard to come back to the surface.”

  I nodded. More than one diver had died over the years due to accidents with the suction hose.

  He handed the hose back.

  “What you want to find is what we call cobble. Not just flat sand. Gold won’t get trapped in the flat sand. You’re looking for rocks and pebbles where the gold can hide, where it gets caught and settles to the bottom.” I held the suction hose by the handles on either side. “You’re going to grab a hold of the hose and suck up the cobble, move the bigger rocks and then target the stuff underneath. You might even get lucky enough to see some nuggets.”

  “That’d be nice.”

  I noticed our distance from shore. “Let me check on our position. You can change into your wetsuit.”

  “Sure.”

  His answer carried a waiver of uncertainty.

  I grinned at the Beast’s ability to have any amount of uncertainty. Didn’t seem the type. “You gotta learn some time. Looks like the conditions should be pretty good today—calm water, hopefully clear down there.” We both entered the wheelhouse. “You’ll be fine.”

  “Hope I don’t disappoint.” Ben shucked off his t-shirt and jeans. In his jockey shorts he wrestled his wetsuit out of his pack.

  I meant to turn back to the GPS, worry about our position, get us over the gold. My gaze roved over his well-built physique—hard planes of muscle, tanned skin, another tattoo of an anchor on one thigh. I also couldn’t help but notice a jagged scar on his muscular back. I gulped. Visions of the Beast making mincemeat out of terrorists overseas during his military stint flashed through my head. Or was there something I didn’t know about my newest diver?