"Jack, what’s your occupation?" Dr. Samuelson inquired.
"I'm an engineer," Jack replied simply.
"Hmmm, an honorable profession. Had you told me you were a lawyer, you'd be speaking to a dial tone right now," Dr. Samuelson said, with a bit of humor.
"Well, you'll be happy to know that I have no intention of ever running for public office either," he added, continuing the mild humorous banter.
Jack detected a slight chuckle on the other end of the line, then: "Ok, Jack, you have my attention. Let's suppose that you did indeed take a picture of the ancient symbol depicted on my scrolls. Could you elaborate on how you came in possession of this symbol?"
"Well, Doctor, I don't actually have the symbol in my possession. The fact is, it's sitting on the bottom of the ocean. I was flying and saw it flashing under the water. I flew down to the surface for a closer look and saw this shiny object far beneath the surface. What was remarkable was how clear the pyramid looked from my position. At first, the eye above the pyramid had me stumped. Honestly, I thought it was some kind of decorative circle or a sunburst. That was until I saw your interview on TV last month where you showed the all-seeing eye in detail. As I said earlier, the photographs don't describe what I saw, but I’m quite certain that what I did indeed see was your symbol. There is little doubt in my mind," Jack said, his voice carrying conviction in its tone.
"Under the water?" Dr. Samuelson asked with uncertainty in his voice. "How deep would you estimate the water to be?"
"I'm not sure, but honestly, if I could see the artifact from the surface, how deep could it be? I'm thinking not more than fifty feet," Jack responded.
There was silence on the other end. Jack could tell the doctor was processing everything he was saying. Dr. Samuelson then cleared his throat and continued.
"So what do you think it was? What I mean to say is it has a yellow color to it. Do you think you found a golden artifact under the water?" he asked.
"I'm not sure. At times, it appeared gold in color, but other times it took on the appearance of a white light. Hard to say what it was made of," Jack replied.
"And you say it was flashing under the water? Could you have stumbled upon an emergency lighted beacon that somehow drifted to your location by strong currents?" Dr. Samuelson asked, his tone turning skeptical again.
"Doctor, I know what I saw. This was not a beacon. The flashing was irregular. At times it flashed quickly and at other times it was a slow erratic flash," Jack defended.
"Hmmm. Could be the surface distortion and reflection, I suppose," Dr. Samuelson added.
"I don't think it was a surface-based anomaly. Something down there was causing the artifact to flash. Maybe there was particulate in the water that was causing the refracting of the light at the surface, or maybe something was passing by it, like seaweed or tiny fish, blocking the light as they swam by. Unfortunately, I didn't have a lot of time to spend investigating. At the time, I needed to keep an eye on a variety of safety factors," Jack said.
"I'm curious, Jack. Why didn't you investigate further? I mean, after you landed. Why didn't you pursue this in the future?" Dr. Samuelson asked.
"Well, quite frankly, life got in the way, what with school and then work. After a while, chasing a strange anomaly in the ocean just didn't factor in. I just became too busy. As time went by, it sort of got pushed far back in my mind," Jack answered.
“Hmm, I see. Ok Jack, so exactly where did you see this artifact, the Mediterranean or the Red Sea?” Dr. Samuelson asked, trying to second-guess Jack's next reply.
“Well, actually neither. I saw it in the Atlantic, just off the coast of Caicos Island in the Caribbean,” Jack replied.
Jack waited for a response, but heard nothing on the other end… Only an uncomfortable silence.
“Doctor, are you there?” Jack asked suspiciously.
Slowly, Dr. Samuelson responded, “Jack... I'm sorry, but I'm afraid this has turned out to be a waste of time for the both of us. It is no secret that the ancient Egyptians were great sailors, but the simple truth is they never sailed any further than the Mediterranean and the Red Sea. I'm not sure what it is you saw down there, but I’m certain it is not Egyptian and therefore not the symbol from the scrolls.”
Jack was stunned. He stood there in silence, trying to make sense of the doctor’s statement. Finally, he spoke.
“Dr. Samuelson, I know what I saw. I know the pictures aren't that sharp or convincing but I'm telling you, what I saw under the water is that symbol. Couldn't the Egyptians have traveled to the other side of the world somehow? Couldn't they have traveled a northern route across land? Couldn’t the land masses have been much closer back then, enough so they could have traveled to the West? Isn't it possible someone overlooked something?” Jack implored, now desperate to hang onto his dream.
“Jack, I'm sorry. I know this seems like quite a blow, but believe me, there was no way for the Egyptians to have traveled that far west. Their boats were too small and flimsy to withstand the great storms of the Atlantic. They would have perished with the first patch of rough seas,” Dr. Samuelson said, doing his best to let Jack down easy. He then added, “Jack, I've been doing this for many years, more than I care to count. Sometimes, our great discoveries turn out to be not so great after all. It comes with the territory.”
“I hear what you're saying, Dr. Samuelson, but this just doesn't make any sense to me. If you're saying that what I saw was not Egyptian, what was it then?" Jack challenged.
"I don't know, Jack. It's very probable that you were looking at something modern in nature, as I suggested earlier, maybe something from a shipwreck or maybe some kind of metallic object that came off a ship during the course of its crossing. The possibilities are nearly endless if you think about it,” Dr. Samuelson elaborated. He paused a moment, then continued, “Jack, I'm sorry but I can’t involve myself any further in this matter. I’m stretched pretty thin as it is, but I do encourage you to continue investigating if you have the time and energy for it. Archeology is a fascinating world and even though we come up empty handed most of the time, the lessons we learn in the pursuit are often invaluable. A good place to start might be to research the possible wrecks that have been recorded in that area. Also, if you have opportunity, you might even consider diving for that artifact, providing you can still locate it."
This was it. The final rejection. Jack stood for a moment in silence. Disappointment and sadness swept over him like a massive wave. He was at a loss for words.
“Jack? Jack?” Dr. Samuelson called to him from six thousand miles away. “I know this is disappointing. I'm sorry, but all is not lost. The thrill of the unknown is still there. Although your find is not what you expected, it’s not without value either. Challenge yourself. Find out what you have. The thrill of discovery is man's greatest inspiration.”
Jack collected his thoughts, then responded, “Dr. Samuelson, I appreciate your time and kind words. Thank you. I predict a personal growth spurt in my immediate future.”
“That's the spirit,” Dr. Samuelson replied, pleased with Jack's positive attitude. “Whatever your discovery, please, keep me informed.”
“Will do, Doc. Again, thanks for your time,” Jack replied.
As Jack hung up the phone, he whispered the doctor's words under his breath: “The thrill of discovery is man's greatest inspiration.”
Over and over, Jack repeated those words as he reflected on all his previous journeys in life. Jack smiled a great smile. The doctor's words were indeed prophetic. Never had Jack felt more alive than when he embarked on a path to discovery. Whether the discovery ended in failure or finished in success, the one thing that remained constant was the thrill. Without thrill, life would be nothing more than a series of hollow contests whose memories quickly faded as the unremarkable became the forgotten.
Jack stared down at the photo in his hands. His heart started to pump. Although Dr. Samuelson closed the door on his initial discovery, he opened the
door to his curiosity. Whatever it was, submerged beneath the Caribbean Sea, Jack was going to find it. The thrill of discovery was indeed Jack's greatest inspiration.
Atlantis - Chapter 3
“Jack, are you sure this is necessary? You're going to give me a heart attack,” Jack's mom protested.
“Yes I'm sure, Mom. We've been over this a million times. If I don't fly down and figure out what's down there, it'll drive me crazy for the rest of my life. Don't worry, it's not like I'm flying to Peru or anything like that. It's just a simple trip down to Caicos Island. I should be back in good ol’ Connecticut in two weeks...at the most,” Jack replied.
He knew what he was doing carried an element of danger, and his mother was just acting out her maternal instincts. He tried to ease her worry by acting blasé, but he knew she wasn't buying it.
“Jack, they have awful storms down there that come out of nowhere. You be extra vigilant, do you hear me?” she demanded, then continued, “I know you think this is a walk in the park, but I don't. I want you to promise me you'll call us often. It won't kill ya,” she said, mixing a casual ending with a serious tone.
“OK, I got it. Call often,” Jack repeated robotically.
“Are you sure your boss is ok with this?” his dad asked.
“I’ve got two week’s vacation coming to me and he’s letting me take a leave of absence for anything longer than that… as long as I cut him in on the treasure,” Jack joked.
“Well, as long as he’s ok with it…” his dad replied, then added, “He sounds like a good guy.”
“He’s a great boss,” he responded with genuine appreciation.
As he carried on idle conversation with his parents, he walked around and preflighted his float plane, the Zenair CH-701 he had built for his trip to Peru. He checked the control surfaces, oil, and gas, then made one last inspection of his cargo. With everything accounted for, he was ready for departure.
“Well, this is it. Ready to go,” he announced, as he made his way over to his waiting parents.
Jack looked up at the clear blue sky and remarked to himself the rarity of the event. The previous month, New England had been plagued by foul weather that had delayed his departure. Now, standing on the tarmac, the balmy winds that pushed out the storms, now felt warm and inviting and he hoped his destination would feel the same.
“Are you sure you have everything?” His dad asked.
“I went over both the plane and equipment check lists twice,” Jack replied.
“I know I don't have to tell you to be careful, Jack, but... Be careful,” his dad said, only half joking.
“I will,” he replied, then added, “and I'll call as often as I can.”
Jack hugged his mom and dad. He took out his cell phone and snapped a picture of them, then climbed into his plane.
He looked around the cab ensuring everything was in place. His map was out and neatly laid on the passenger seat beside him. He rechecked both GPS's to make certain they had the right coordinates programmed into them. With nothing left to do, he called “clear” out his window and turned the key. Immediately, the engine roared to life. With a quick wave goodbye, he advanced the throttle and taxied to the beginning of the runway for departure.
In minutes, Jack was heading down the runway. Slowly at first, then gradually gaining momentum, he kept his eyes nervously on the airspeed indicator as the gauge climbed higher.
For this trip, Jack was slightly over his allowable maximum weight capacity for the plane. He considered this trip to be a salvage type mission and the equipment on board was essential to the success of his task. During his research, he was able to obtain the water depths of the area surrounding the Turks and Caicos Islands. He needed to be able to dive to a depth of at least one hundred feet. His previous diving experiences, depths to a maximum of sixty feet, demanded only a single eighty cubic foot aluminum dive tank. For this trip, Jack would not be taking any chances. In addition to his eighty, he purchased two one hundred thirty cubic foot steel dive tanks, the difference being mostly increased air capacity for slightly more weight. The weight of the three tanks alone though, weighed as much a small adult and there was plenty more equipment to consider.
Jack watched the runway disappear as he finally lifted off far beyond the customary lift-off point. His climb rate was an abysmal five hundred feet per minute, not nearly as aggressive as the twelve hundred feet per minute he'd grown accustomed to with routine flying. Fortunately, he knew this was the worst he'd have to contend with as the plane would naturally become lighter as more fuel was burned off.
Holding his course as he departed, he rocked his wings slightly to wave goodbye to his parents who were now just ant-like specks on the runway apron. He could just make out their return waves as he climbed through eight hundred feet of elevation.
Smiling now, he turned his attention to the matters at hand: navigation. Jack's route would be almost entirely south, following the eastern coastline down to Miami, Florida. Once there, he would begin his island hopping exercise starting from the Bahamas and ending at the Turks and Caicos island chain, a total of nearly two thousand miles away from his home in Connecticut.
He figured on a leisurely two-day flight down to Florida and another day to fly the three legs over the islands. If all went well, in four days, he would be floating on the exact point where he first observed the shiny object from the sky. Weather and seas would be a factor in the timing. Jack figured he could land in seas no greater than two feet. Any waves larger would be too dangerous to consider. With a requirement of relatively light seas and near perfect weather, his window of opportunity would be narrow if he were to make it back in the two weeks he had planned.
Jack knew that finding the featureless position in the ocean where he had last observed the pyramid would be relatively easy. He would simply pull the GPS coordinates from the video he had recorded on his trip several years before. Unfortunately, locating the object under water would be much harder because currents surrounding the island chains were known to be relatively swift and could easily have carried the object far from it original location spotted six years before.
As Jack flew south, with the aid of two GPS's and the coastline to follow, his workload inside the cockpit was nearly non-existent. Aside from routine fuel stops, he would be spending hours with nothing else to do but think.
Jack's mind began to wander off on tangents as he considered what the object might be resting on the ocean’s floor. He had determined from his research that there were several shipwrecks in that area. With the way the currents flowed, he figured that one of the wrecks could have drifted to that location. If in fact it were a wreck, the shiny pyramid-shaped object could be the brass mounting plate from the ship’s bell. Even though the mounting plate theory seemed plausible, Jack also realized that any metallic object would have to come from a recent sinking before the corrosive properties of the salt water had a chance to corrode the metal. Unfortunately, in his research, there had not been any reports of sunken ships in many years, a fact that gnawed at him, adding further complication to the mystery.
The flight down to Miami was as pleasant as it was uneventful. Jack had planned three fuel stops per day as he flew south toward Florida. By the end of the first day, he had flown as far as Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. Unlike his South American adventure where he mainly slept inside the plane, this time around Jack rented a motel room and visited the bustling tourist town for dinner and some lively entertainment.
With a great night’s sleep, he set out on the second day with a feeling of exhilaration. He double checked the weather and found that it would be warm and sunny with light winds nearly all the way down to Florida, all but eliminating worry that was routine with most flights.
Once he arrived in Miami, he rented a cheap hotel near the airport, then walked to a small kiosk nearby that served local Cuban cuisine. Like the night before, he took in the sights, then turned in early taking care not to overload himself too early in his ad
venture. He knew that would come soon enough.
Jack woke feeling nervous. Although he had flown this route before, the flight from Miami to the Turks and Caicos island chain would be spent mostly over open ocean. To make matters worse, he noticed quite a bit of cloud buildup near his destination. Although they were light and scattered, he knew that clouds so early in the day could easily develop into afternoon thunderstorms.
“Hmm, probably nothing,” Jack surmised with only mild concern.
For a moment, his mind wandered as he visualized himself fighting the controls of his tiny plane in the middle of a violent storm. He saw himself spiraling out of control and the thought of it sent an eerie shudder throughout his body. With a quick shake of his head, he pulled himself back from his awful daydream, downed his coffee, and headed out to the plane.
Jack sat on the runway, waiting for his clearance to depart. He passed the time by running through his emergency procedures, hoping that confidence would minimize his anxiety. Within minutes, he heard the airport tower controller announce, "Cleared for departure." With that, he advanced the throttle, taxied into position, then headed down the runway. Moments later, he lifted off. With the difficult task of navigating out of one of the busiest regions in the country, Jack’s heavy workload soon helped him forget about his anxiety.
As he climbed out on his south-easterly heading, he watched the coastline cross underneath him, and along with it went any possibility of a safe landing. Thirty minutes later, with land nearly out of site, he leveled his plane off at twelve thousand feet. Even though he was in direct contact with the controlling agency for that airspace, he felt eerily all alone.
Jack scanned the horizon. There was nothing in front of him except miles of endless ocean. He looked at his watch. It was seven forty in the morning. It would be another hour before he would catch a glimpse of land again, and still another hour before he landed at South Andros Airport on the east side of the Bahamas island.
Tomb of Atlantis Page 4
