A CRY FROM THE DEEP

by Unknown

  She took a deep breath and said to Daniel, “I’m sorry.”

  He sat down beside her. “What the hell happened down there?” His words were harsh but his eyes were soft.

  “If I told you, you wouldn’t believe me.”

  He clasped his hands between his knees. “Try me.”

  She frowned, glancing at Hennesey and the other divers, who were within earshot. “Can I tell you later?”

  “Sure.” He looked disappointed. “There’d better be a good reason.”

  She stared at the sea. How was she going to explain what happened?

  “Maybe you should jump in a shower, while there’s still some hot water left.”

  Alfredo, who’d been taking off his dry suit nearby, walked over to Catherine. “Senorita, are you okay now?”

  “Yes. Gracias.”

  “Good. You find another ship. Hennessey, he is upset, but, …” Alfredo hesitated, then said, “Maybe he’s jealous he did not find her himself.” He turned to Daniel, “Do you know how old she is?”

  “If I’m not mistaken, it’s a British barque, nineteenth century.”

  Catherine said, “You were in such a hurry to get me up, I’m surprised you had time to identify it.”

  “It was hard to miss.”

  “After you leave,” said Alfredo, beaming, “I find some coins.” He turned and yelled, “Hennesey, show them what I find!”

  Hennesey reluctantly came over and opened his hand. In it were half a dozen encrusted silver and gold coins. A cross was prominent on a few. He handed them to Daniel and said with a smile, “Not bad, huh?”

  Daniel met Hennesey’s gaze, “You calmed down in a hurry.”

  Hennesey ignored the remark. “It’s only a few coins, but it’s a start.”

  Daniel’s expression turned sour. “Were you planning on keeping them from me?”

  “Absolutely,” said Hennesey with a snicker.“Until we get more, we won’t know what we’ve got.”

  Turning each coin over, Daniel said, “Once they’re cleaned, we’ll have a better idea, but they do look like Reale.”

  “Raul and Jerry are going down next. They can see if there’s more down there. As for us, we’ll wait our six and then go down again.”

  Daniel said to Alfredo, “Where did you find these?”

  “By the Spanish ship.”

  “I know that, but exactly where?” He handed the coins back to Hennesey before picking up his slate from the deck. It was marked with letters denoting parts of the ship on the dive site. “Show me.”

  Alfredo pointed to a spot near the letter marking the mast. “Here.”

  Daniel said with an edge, “I thought I made it clear any artifacts found had to be tagged at the site.”

  Hennesey said, “He’s showing you now. What’s the big fucking deal?”

  “You know what the big fucking deal is?” said Daniel, exploding. “Under your contract, you’re obligated to document every artifact found. And no removal unless you can guarantee conservation of the site. What’s more, I think these coins are significant enough to contact the National Monuments Service as soon as possible.”

  “Of course, I’ll contact them,” said Hennesey. “If your asshole was any tighter…”

  Daniel smiled. “Glad to be of help. I’d mention the other vessel, too, while you’re at it.”

  “Like I said, - .” grumbled Hennesey.

  “You didn’t think twice about putting your hand out,” blurted Catherine, “but when it comes to -.”

  “Christ almighty, you two are a pair,” he said, interrupting. “All I know is you’ll get your fucking story. If it wasn’t for guys like me, history would stay undetected at the bottom of the sea.” His eyes sharpened like daggers as he singled out Catherine. “What do you do besides take pretty pictures?”

  “You’re forgetting one thing, without my pretty pictures, you wouldn’t have your damn publicity. And without that, your money tree would be dead.”

  “Holy shit!” Hennesey’s face reddened even more. “You think it’s that simple?”

  “Yeah, it’s that simple.” His face was within a few feet of hers. Any closer, and they’d be in kissing range.

  He stepped back, throwing his arms in the air. “I risk my life and my divers do the same just so some fucking museum can get their precious artifacts and make money off my sweat.” Hennesey’s spittle was flying out of his mouth. “The laws of salvage are older than the wrecks that are disintegrating as we speak. I should’ve listened to my gut. I knew I was going to regret having you two on board.”

  Catherine rolled her eyes. What was the point of arguing with Hennesey? He was an egotistical jerk.

  Alfredo, who’d been standing by, said, “Daniel, I will let you know next time.”

  “Good,” said Daniel, looking him in the eye. “I trust you will.”

  As Alfredo turned to go down to the galley, Hennesey followed, mumbling something to him that sounded like a scolding.

  Catherine said to Daniel, “I don’t know how you do it. I wanted to scream and pound his chest like a woman from another era.”

  “I don’t know how smart that was. It’s one thing to challenge a bully, but when you’re on his turf... he can make things difficult.” He adjusted the blanket that had fallen off one of her legs. “I think Alfredo just went down. You’ve missed your chance for that hot shower.”

  “That’s okay. I’ll have one later.” She hesitated, then said, “What do you know about British ships from the nineteenth century? Is there some way of finding out more?”

  He raised an eyebrow as if surprised at the question. “If it was built after 1825, there should be some record. But we’ll need a name or a date when it was built or when it went down before we can check it in the British Museum or the Public Records Office. There’s also the Admiralty Archives, The National Maritime Museum, and Lloyds of London. If it was insured by Lloyds, they’ll have a record of it.

  “You’re impressive. A virtual encyclopaedia of information.”

  He smiled. “What I can’t figure out is why you’re more interested in that ship than the one that’s five centuries old and possibly laden with treasure?”

  She shrugged. How could she tell him about the spirits who were popping up everywhere? With her concerns about them, she was coming across as a hack diver, one who irresponsibly went off on a whim. No, she couldn’t tell him now. There was no privacy. Until she could find some time to be alone with him, she’d have to keep the craziness to herself.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  Raul and Jerry came up empty from their dive. Even so, the others were hyped for their second plunge of the day. Since Alfredo had found both gold and silver coins, there was no telling what riches they’d unearth from the seabed. His discovery indicated Hennesey was on the right track, but until they found a cannon or some other iron object that could be dated and traced back to the 1588 Spanish fleet, they wouldn’t have the proof they needed.

  This time though, Catherine stayed focused. Diving alongside Daniel, she didn’t respond when her spirit appeared again. Instead, she ignored her invite and photographed Daniel and Tom as they continued to work on the baseline for the wreck site. Even though the ship had been badly damaged, there was still enough there to make a meticulous grid of the vessel. The grid would aid in identifying the location of any artifacts they’d recover. In time, Daniel would draw a site plan, marking by number any artifacts as well as any natural marine features, such as gullies, caves, or boulders that could be used as quick reference points.

  To assist, Catherine took photos of broken timbers and what looked like rusted iron and steel near the hull. Centuries of neglect and corrosion had resulted in concretion, and until there was an opportunity to remove the build-up and get to the core of the material, they wouldn’t know exactly what they were looking at.

  She also caught images of Hennesey and Alfredo carefully blowing away mud and sand from the hull with hand-held fans. Although they were vigilant, P
atrick wasn’t. He got carried away and was too aggressive with his scooter, causing light shells and sand to rise high off the sea bottom, dusting the water with particles that changed its clarity. Unable to see through her viewfinder, Catherine was forced to stop shooting.

  Irritated, she waved her arms at Patrick to get his attention. When he looked over, she pointed to her camera and glowered. “Damn it, watch what you’re doing!”

  Though he didn’t hear her, he got her intent and mouthed, “Sorry,” and swam quickly away to another part of the hull.

  She chose an area some distance from Patrick. Maybe her annoyance had come out too strongly, but if she didn’t set the stage from the beginning, her ability to get good photos would be compromised.

  Calming down, she reflected on where she was. Her enthusiasm for the hunt was tempered by the sight of this ancient underwater graveyard. Knowing there could be bodies buried under the silt and mud, or trapped in the remnants of a ship’s timbers made the dive an almost reverential one. Seeing the remains of what once was, reminded her of her own mortality and the power of the sea to transform life.

  But what the sea took, it also gave. Just when it seemed another dive would end without any significant discovery, Patrick signalled them over to see the cannonballs he’d found. This time, he’d taken care to disturb the sea floor as little as possible and Catherine was able to take some clear pictures of Patrick with his hands on the encrusted cannonballs.

  Ever the scoundrel, Hennesey made a big production of Daniel noting the iron balls on his slate. Not to be deterred, Daniel laughed at the captain’s overstatement and went on to video Patrick re-enacting the find. For the time being, the rusted cannonballs were left where they were found, but it wasn’t like Hennesey had conceded anything. It just wasn’t the kind of treasure he was after.

  When the divers reached the surface, there were high fives all around. Olaf swung the boat around to pick them up and Jerry helped them climb on board.

  When Hennesey got up the rungs, Jerry said, “Hennesey, you lucky son of a bitch. How many cannonballs were there?”

  “Don’t get too excited. They could be from any ship. We need a hell of a lot more before we can pat ourselves on the back.”

  Catherine knew Hennesey was referring to gold. A few gold coins had been found, but Hennesey wanted more, much more. He wanted to find hundreds, like the ones found on La Girona near the Giant Causeway in Northern Ireland. From the wreck of that galleon—that had once carried royalty and noblemen—the divers had come up with gold cameos, pendants, chains and a salamander set with rubies. Unless some gold jewelry similar to those were found, she knew Hennesey wouldn’t be happy.

  Back on the boat, Catherine sat down on a bench to take off her booties. She was relieved, that this time, there’d been no screw-ups. This time, she didn’t chase the ghost. Daniel sat down beside her, “That was a good dive.”

  She smiled. “This has to count as one of those rare jobs that gives you back more than you put in. It’s so beautiful down there, it’s like looking directly at God in all his majesty.”

  “I didn’t know you were religious.”

  “If you count spiritual, then I’m in.” She waited until the others had gone below before turning to him. “Hennesey is something else, huh? It must be a hell of a way to live, propelled by greed.”

  “He’s got lots of company.”

  “In one way, I can’t blame him. It must be thrilling to find valuable relics. That’s one thing I’ve never been a part of before—diving a wreck that has gold jewelry somewhere in its hold. I’ve only heard that gold holds its brilliance in the deep. I’d like to see it for myself. Something that stays pristine no matter what nature throws at it.”

  Daniel grinned. “Don’t tell me I have to watch out for you, too. I can see it all now. You sneaking around the wreck and slipping a gold pendant into your pocket like the fox you are.”

  “Ha! Not my style.”

  When she stood up, he unzipped the back of her suit. “Thanks.” She trembled when his fingers touched her bare neck. “Still cold,” she said quickly.

  “Surprising with that dry suit of yours.”

  “Yeah.” When he kept looking at her curiously, she turned away again, hiding her discomfort. She put her booties in her sports bag and said, “I still owe you an explanation for what happened.”

  “You do,” he said seriously. He looked at his watch. “How about dinner at seven?”

  Thrown by his quick invitation, she sputtered, “Seven?”

  “I have to make a few calls first. Sean’s having some crisis with the caterer at the country club.” She must’ve looked puzzled, as he added, “That’s where the wedding reception’s taking place. I’ll try to make it as quick as I can. How about we meet in the hotel lobby?”

  She nodded. She wasn’t sure how she felt about the arrangement. It wasn’t a real date, but it was dinner. When he’d mentioned Sean, it was like he’d thrown cold water on her face. Catherine then realized she was being foolish for hoping for something that wasn’t going to happen. They were colleagues, nothing more. They were getting together so she could explain why she swam away from him during their morning dive. But would he understand? She hoped so. That was the least she wanted from their meeting.

  TWENTY-SIX

  With an hour to kill before dinner, Catherine caught up with her email. There was one from Marie. She and her two sons were having the time of their lives, soaking up the country life in Provence. The lavender had come in full and fragrant and Marie, with the aid of the usual help, was able to harvest the flowers and make up the perfume sachets for market. Memories of working the farm rushed in like a flood. Catherine could almost smell the flowers’ soothing scent as she read Marie’s closing sentence, ‘Don’t worry, all is well.’

  Catherine wished she could say the same. Although her day had ended on a positive note, the thought of sharing her ghostly experiences with Daniel consumed her thoughts. Would he think she was some weirdo? Someone he’d regret having as his diving buddy? With hopes of reducing her anxiety, she returned to her email.

  There was one from Frank, asking for an update. She wrote back, telling him about the finds—the two ships, the coins, and the cannon balls. She told him everything, except her frustrations. At the end of her email, she promised to send photos once she had a chance to review them.

  She then phoned Alex. Richard had organized a video call, and there they were, father and daughter on the screen, more than a thousand miles away on another continent. Seeing them made her homesick. She’d been gone less than a week and yet Alex looked both taller and older. Her little girl was growing and she wasn’t there to witness the changes.

  “Sweetie pie, you look great! What is grandma feeding you?” she said, masking her longing.

  “Food,” said Alex, giggling. Catherine touched the screen and blew kisses, which Alex returned with a lot of smiles and smacking sounds. While Richard beamed in the background, Alex shared everything she was doing—turning the video conversation into a non-stop monologue.

  Back home on their farm, Catherine would’ve been annoyed with Alex’s domination, but now, with an ocean between them, Catherine hung on every word. It was at that moment Catherine remembered something her mother had once said, ‘You don’t miss the water until the well runs dry.’

  Catherine missed Alex and the comfort of her family. But then again, the three of them had never been much of a family. She and Richard had tried but the newness of their infant eventually wore off and they were faced with who they had become. And yet now, it seemed Richard had changed, this time for the better. Was she different as well? She was afraid that time had hardened her edges.

  “Mama, can you hear me?”

  “Yes, I can hear you.” Catherine strained to listen. She was guilty of tuning out when her own thoughts took over.

  “Papa says I can come again next summer if I want. Kaitlin comes every year and next year she says I can ride on the beach w
ith her.”

  Richard whispered something in Alex’s ear.

  “I have to go now. Papa’s taking me to Kaitlin’s for a play date.”

  “Have fun. I miss you so much.” Catherine felt her throat catch, and she stopped herself from crying out loud as she said good-bye. She almost added she missed Richard, too, but did she, or was it because she had nobody?

  “I love you, Mama,” said Alex, blowing kisses again. Then, she and her father vanished.

  Catherine was back to staring at the cold screen displaying a list of contact numbers. She was surprised Alex wasn’t whining for her to come home. She was obviously getting used to her mother being away. This whole career thing for women was a double-edged sword.

  With time left, she reviewed her shots until she got to the images she’d taken of the phantom. Even though she’d hoped for a sharp image, she wasn’t surprised to find nothing but squiggly lines resembling neon lights in the rain. She then remembered she hadn’t had a chance to get any shots of the barque nor the brass letters, A and L, lying on the bottom. Though upset over that, she found comfort in the fact that Daniel had seen the ship as well.

  She backed up her photos, put her SD card back in her case, and rinsed her camera in fresh water to flush out any salt residue. After ensuring everything was working well, she set it to dry on a towel.

  With the British ship playing on her mind, she went online and checked the Lloyds of London website. There was no mention of a ship going down in that location, but she did see a link to the Guildhall Library in London. She immediately went to that website to search Lloyds of London’s shipping records prior to 1985, but no matter what tab or link she tried, she couldn’t find what she wanted. The letters A and L gave her no clue, as there were too many ships in the nineteenth century that had names containing those letters. If only she had the name of the ship, or even the date it was launched or wrecked.