The Great Ark

by T. C. Driver

  “Wow am I tired” I yelled, and screamed out loud. “No speak the truth Cornelius…. You are drunk, now put that bottle away!” a voice in my head said, so I did! We landed our birds as planned, inside the one slight cove or reef around the back side of the Island. Each plane skidded up on the dry pebble beach as far as our little propellers could drive us. We didn’t bother shouting out for the boys, we just took light packs of gear and headed toward the camp that we had finished building just seven weeks before. We hiked about four thousand yards. Over, through, and across the middle and narrow part of the Rocky island.

  The door was slightly ajar on habitat one. We walked lightly across the porch, then swung the door open, and looked inside. Travis (Ting) Jones, the youngest student was sitting by himself at a table booth over flowing with brown M.R.E. food packages (meal ready to eat) mixing up the “good stuff” into the largest bowl he could find a plastic storage tote. He stared up at us with a glaring “oh shit” and only slightly slowed the stirring of his stew mix! “I’m making dinner” said Travis, “Have some.”

  “Come on son, lets go!” stated Duck calmly, “Where are the others?” Marshal Moore had taught Travis Jones and one other of the boys named Malcum, in his air craft maintenance school on ship. He knew them very well.

  “We can’t go yet Mr. Moore” cried out Travis! “You don’t know what we’ve found. There are artifacts, ancient Roman maybe, we’re not leaving until we finish!”

  Marshal Moore helped Travis up, and brought him outside. He explained to him the cost of breaking the seal on a habitat container. Ducks mouth was chewing the boy’s ear off. Little Travis, was barely nineteen, with short blond hair. He looked like he was sixteen, and weighed one hundred thirty-five pounds at the most. Moore’s large left hand was wrapped around the boy’s right arm, half suspending Travis in mid air as he walked.

  Suicide and I left the “riot act” to Duck and started checking the other habitats. Unk was on the edge of camp coming out of the South Power Station. Two habitats were still locked but their doors had obviously been “played with” yet unopened. The next was unlocked but shut. Opening it up, we found sleeping bags, and a mess but no students.

  “They’re at the dig” yelled Travis! His arm firmly in the grip of Duck’s gorilla like hand, Duck dropped Travis onto the ground. He landed center stage between all of us Unk, Moore, Doc, Suicide, and I. While still lying sideways on the ground Travis broke the tense silence!

  “Ok…….. I’ll take you to them!”

  Our group hiked back across the island. We were now only five hundred yards from our planes. Travis led us to a cave opening that was sixty feet wide and ten to twelve feet high. On the back wall of this round natural cave, some fifty-sixty feet deep, forming a large almost flat “front room” was a section of old powdery bricks. This brick part of the other wise natural wall was covered up with cement or mortar in stucco fashion very close in color and texture to the real surrounding back wall of the cave. I looked out of the wide cave into the sunlight and could see an obvious path, flat spot, or road. Grooves or ruts were worn into some of the rocks. This “road” leads out of the cave and parallel into the sea in the general direction of our planes. This is or was a mine I thought to myself.

  The boys had opened up a five foot wide three foot high hole in the brick about five feet off of the cave floor. These bricks were old, dry, and crumbling. They were thick at the bottom and narrow at the Top. Steve and Doc went back to the planes for flashlights and rope. Moore and I looked around. Travis yelled to his buddies through the opening.

  “Travis hold it right there!” bellowed Unk. “No one goes inside that cave until Steve gets back.”

  While standing just inside the cave, I pointed my road out to Unk. Tommy Rosenberg came out first, not because Travis had called but to fix his glasses in the sunlight. Tommy saw us, shrugged his shoulders, and sat down quietly next to Travis Jones. Five minutes later the smaller fragile slightly darker hared blond named Tony also came out, again saying nothing. Shaking his head and rubbing his eyes he sat down next to his friends. Young Malcum jumped out of the cave next. He ran over to Marshal Moore and slugged him on the arm while laughing, running around in circles fist fighting the air and waiting for his whipping. Malcum and “Duck” often played like this aboard ship. We sailors often made fun of Moore and his “Son” Malcum. The two were very close for a student and teacher. Duck was a redneck father figure; Malcum was a fatherless spoiled brat with a very light Negro complexion. Malcum continued running in circles, taunting his mentor and embarrassing his friends. Moore just smiled at him with that “I’m gonna kick your ass” smile of his. Suicide (Steve Miller) then walked up with two more packs of gear. Doc, behind him carried one more. They both piled them on the ground in front of us and said,

  “Well, what’s up?”

  Malcum, standing still now, was trying his best to act “grown up” and said. “There’s ancient stuff in there, Roman maybe.”

  “No man” interrupted Travis, “It has to be at least civil war…” His friends all shook their heads no. “Well we haven’t got it figured out yet…….but we know this is big”

  “Yea, really big” said Tommy.

  “The cover of National Geographic big” declared Travis. “We’re all gonna be famous man.” The two boys’ fist bumped in agreement. The other two just murmured and looked up to us for the next move.

  We adults huddled at the wide mouth cave entrance. Most figured we might as well have a look see while we’re

  here. Why rush back to that mountain top antenna job, anyway. The boys led us into the brick opening, all of us with better and stronger lights now. We were all eyes wide with wonder.

  “This is Hebrew writing I believe Tommy” said Duck. “All three are the same word most likely, do you know any Hebrew?

  “No,” said Tommy!

  “This middle arch center stone in the ceiling look the word or name could translate as Josh if you make a J out of that odd mark. The others we can’t read but I believe they mean the same thing” said Duck.

  One hundred and fifty feet into the mine were three more signs. These were more polished and much more professionally done. The one in the center we could read. This sign read Amaziah. The other two signs were vaguely similar and unknown to us, we could only guess.

  “Look in here Cornelius,” said Unk waving his flashlight up and down. We had walked about two hundred feet deep into the cave, the first fifty feet being the wide natural cave. This hallway was man made, cut out of the rock with the ceiling arched in the center. No other writing or signs were seen after Amaziah. We never did find the end of this mine. There were always more unexplored and or sealed up passages. In this first straight hallway we found openings on first the left, then the right each one was bricked up and then carefully stuccoed over with cement. The boys would pound on the cave walls with a large pick, sounding it out and listening for a sound change. Then they would dig out a hole and crawl through.

  The ceiling was over eight feet tall at its center, but once it was somewhat taller. There was six eight or ten inches of sediment and dust lying on top of everything.

  As I was walking over to the opening where Unk was, he waved his light franticly to hurry me on. Not wanting to crawl through I stuck my head flashlight and right arm into the opening. Two boys were in that room or section polishing up and brushing off. They worked as we both watched. I spoke softly to Unk, for his head was right next to mine. “Reminds you of a Gatling gun Unk except bigger. The ole’ Russian weasel could only agree and nod his head.

  “Look at those large spoke wagon wheels on each side of it” replied Unk.

  “Wow” said Duck, standing behind us, and straining to see. The guns shone of gold and bronze, and were very fancy, not plain, simple, or crudely made.

  We old sailor boys caught the gold fever bad. Maybe even worse than the younger boys. Three days and two nights later we all joined together for a big meeting to discuss our now joi
nt effort at the dig. This is what we had found;

  The artifacts were like small modern cannons. Twelve barrels each with six flat sides and a round smooth bore inside. Each barrel was five and one half feet long, always twelve of them between two large wagon wheels. A large piece of wood in the middle below the barrels hooked to an axle. Bands of metal, coated with other metals wrapped around many wooden parts. Most wooden parts when moved did not hold up very well. They looked good but could not be used or even moved. Some metal parts also crumbled, and were eaten through in spots, but they also shined with bright gold and brass. Three of these metal barrel sections we moved intact outside into the sunlight. The twelve pipes or barrels were each almost four inches thick, or across. The inside bore was just under two inches. These twelve barrels were held together as one gun by six, six pointed star mounts, all six mounts at the back half of barrel, 2+2+2. One barrel was on each side of each star. The back end of the pipe was filled in with metal another blockage was ten inches up the gun forming a back fire chamber. This back chamber had two small holes in it both about the size of a copper wire. The back chamber opened up to the main barrel with a ¾ inch whole or a little larger than Docs fishing pole handle. The center round pipe was made of an undetermined type of metal. All around it was bronze metal plated with Gold. Two different types of glass shot could be found stored in what used to be baskets on the floor. This shot was round pieces of glass or marbles. Some wooden lances shaped like cue sticks were also found. These cue sticks had no sharp end on them but had a place were metal had been on them before. A hand full of shot could easily roll down the barrel at one time. One dozen of these contraptions or guns were in each bricked up side hallway that we opened. The boys by themselves had opened two sections now four more had been opened for a total of six. Twenty two unopened sections had been sounded but unopened and marked with red mechanics rags. Less than one third of the mine known to us had yet been sounded. The group of us at the big mouth cave sat eating still another of Travis Jones mixed up stews. We sat in the sunlight all knowing that time for exploration was over. Unk needed to call Joe and make a report. The stew was not bad, Travis was praised by all.

  We took a break enjoying the sunshine, and fresh air. Each looked at the three metal assemblies that we had brought out to the light. Each one of us weighed in on the facts of the find.

  “These are weapons” Marshal Moore started out. “Stored here in ancient days yes even back in Old Testament Biblical time. The writings we could not read are still a mystery, but one thing is for sure. This is the work of the ancient Israelites, and some merchants from Persia. Why would anybody go to this much trouble? Why would ancient Hebrews hide weapons, and why here. Cornelius is right about one thing. This is or was a mine of some type, but what were they mining. I need to brush up on my chemistry but I believe this very pure dry limestone rock mixed with salt could be used to make sodium carbide. A coke furnace or volcanic lava combination could get hot enough to make it. Modern sodium carbide plants all use an electric ark furnace to reach the high temperature needed.

  “Sodium carbide” said Unk, “That’s the rocks in old miner’s lamps”

  “Yes replied Moore” They give off acetylene gas, which is how these guns work. I’ll explain how they work in a minute but first let me tell you who built them and why he put them here. Cornelius, did you bring your Holy Bible as I asked. Moore pulled out his Bible as he spoke and I also pulled mine out of my pack.

  “Second chronicles chapter 26 verse 15”

  Unk, Steve, and Doc rolled with laughter! Moore went on. “The Bible talks about these weapons, about them being built and used to great effect but does not mention them again. These weapons vanish from history. The words in this mine are names. All names of Kings of Israel in those ancient days. Amaziah from this mine is father to the king who is famous for……Steve interrupts laughing

  “Everything is in the Bible with you two nut jobs. You’ve got to be joking” Moore goes on speaking, very much red faced from the teasing.

  “King Uzzrah is who built these weapons. This King Uzzrah became powerful using them but then repented of making the weapons when he saw the massive death and destruction they caused. I believe the king hid the weapons away forever. Never to be used again without the blessings of God. Like our Nukes of today he took them to the ends of the earth and put them in the island that gave them their powerful burning rocks. As Unk and Steve started laughing uncontrollably I agreed to start reading the scripture for Duck was getting very hot about the teasing. When I read that chapter even now it gives me chills. Yes I still wonder about the secrets buried on Island Number Two.

  And He (Uzziah) Made in Jerusalem engines, invented by cunning men, to be on the towers, and upon the bulwarks, to shoot arrows, and great stones with all. And his name spread far abroad! For he was marvelously helped! Till he was strong!

  But when he was strong, his heart was lifted up to his destruction; for he transgressed against the Lord his God!

  Duck continued, “Gentlemen I believe these weapons caused such death and destruction that they changed warfare and the fighting of brave strong men so much that this technology was hidden away. Uzzrah had one army of over 300,000 men. This king was known for building towers for military purposes in many other places.

  Not just in Jerusalem. There may be thousands of these guns inside this mountain.

  “You’re on a roll now,” shouted Steve (Suicide) as he scooped up seconds of Travis Jones plastic tote stew. Marshal Moore was fuming furious;

  “Shut up Unk (laughter). Moore yelled! All ya’ll sit down shut the hell up and listen!” We did just that.

  These guns used on top of towers with cross fire zones would create a shocking stack of dead bodies. This would be enough to “make strong “any king and also make him want to ask for forgiveness. The same towers were likely used to make the round marble shot out of glass just as shot towers were later used to drop lead musket balls. That short reef by our planes is most likely the remains of an ancient harbor. This mine was worked for hundreds of years. Those groves in the rock, were not made by these guns, the tracks in the road are the same size as modern day train tracks (ha-ha). Man has not changed much over time.

  “Mr. Moore, what would stop the marbles from rolling out the barrel when it was aimed downward from the top of a tower,” asked Tony.

  “Good question,” answered Duck! “Just like civil was cannons cloth of some type, a wadding same as a musket solved that problem. This wadding also created more pressure for a faster projectile”

  Tommy then asked... “Could that small little reef be the foundation of a large factory building to process raw ore into sodium carbine right her on the island, and the harbor might be out in now deeper water, it just seems like a small harbor.”

  Professor Moore pondered the question. This has not been ruled out, yes that could be possible. Many South Sea Islands were cut of every last tree (like Easter Island) in times past for some reason. Feeding or building a large plant with close by timber could have been the reason. It would change our view of history.”

  “History, I’ve heard enough” roared Unk. The old Ukrainian weasel shook his head. The ancient Israelites can kiss my ass. The Bible, I’ve heard it all now, and it is very much past my deadline to call Captain Coe. You men get the mine covered over, and that’s an order he demanded.

  We closed up the mine with brush. All of us were thinking that we might be coming back. Our rescue group had to stay another two nights for the surf to calm down but we did not go back into the mine. We were all warned again by Unk not to use our ship phones. Our group also made a pack with each other not to discuss or speak of our find. I thought that Doc might have used his ship phone. Doc looks like Andy Griffith his real name is Arthur Hodge from Greenville Tenn. Doc was given to calling his wife and his mother faithfully everyday. Doc started off again in my plane on the way back. No Medicine, no boys either in my plane this time, two boys had doubled up. I trie
d to keep a conversation up to keep myself alert. All of the boys were accounted for twice this go round (ha-ha). We triumphant rescue heroes were now on our way home with mission accomplished.

  “Doc” I asked? “Ain’t it funny that now, thousands of years later so called modern man would bring the next generation of new weapons (atomic bombs) here to the ends of the earth for weapons testing. For thousands of years China and India, and most Eastern leaders of civilization (and also slavery) have stayed mostly to themselves. This while Western civilization has made war with, bombed, or sent troops to every country in the world. The west has always fought to expand our way of life, our laws, and technology. Now the slow, old, slave ways, stay to them selves East is slowly winning control of the world from us. This because we have killed off each other in our many stupid wars that now the East is about to take over and rule us economically. They out number us six to one, there is just not enough of us to matter. The Bible told us to be fruitful and multiply. Guess what America. God’s way always works. Who could have known?