by Lisa Grace
He smiled. “Yes, you are in the employ of the King as an artist. On surveyor trips it is customary to have artists. Captain Cook had his, and I have mine.”
“What after? Do we go to England together?”
“Of course. It is home. I have a place in London, near the Royal Navy dockyard at Deptford. We will look for a proper place for you and I to raise a family in London.”
“London! I have dreamed of going there many a night.”
“There are other captains with wives. We will inquire where is suitable in town, and arrange for their help in setting you up a household. They will be attuned to your needs better than I.”
“I only have one need.”
“And what is that?”
“You.”
He smiled, “I plan to fulfill your every need. A captain's duty is to always plan for every contingency.”
They had arrived at Mary's door. Bennett turned her to face him as he reached past her, and turned the knob to return her to her room. She lifted her head in anticipation of a kiss, and Bennett did not disappoint. Charles cleared his throat. “Sir?”
Bennett slowly pulled away, “Good night, Mary.”
She smiled, “Good night, Bennett.”
He opened the door and she backed her way in, still smiling, so happy. He closed the door. He walked back to his room, a burden having been lifted from his shoulders. A feeling of anticipation filled him for what the week ahead would bring.
***
The next day an announcement was made by the first officer of the impending nuptials of Captain Graham and Mary Welch. The men took it well and joked with each other behind the captain's back. Randall decided the vows would be read on the upper deck with the officers in attendance and the rest of the crew as a witness on the lower. The best linens were cleaned, and provisions were made from the stock for a dinner.
The pirate stricken ship, now empty of its treasure was abandoned to its fate on the breakers. The Devonshire made its way to the hiding spot Bennett had chosen on the island of Caño, or as the crew called it, Shark Water Island.
On approach they circled the whole of the land, looking for a cove that would provide shelter from the waves and breakers, and provide some cover for the skiffs to carry the treasure to its final hiding spot.
“Do you see it?” Bennett asked Randall.
“Yes, let us take her in.” Once in the cove, Bennett sent a crew ahead to the beach. They reported back an hour later, “The island appears to be uninhabited, captain.” Several small sharks circled lazily in and out of the clear water of the cove. They did not seem to be dangerous, but no one was willing to test how gentle they really were.
While observing the heavily forested cliffs of the mountainous sides, Bennett spoke to Randall, “On the cliff—” he pointed, “there. See the large cedar tree?" Bennett gestured up toward the ridge line, high away from the beach.
“It’s gnarled angled trunk is hard to miss,” Randall answered.
“Take a hoist up there, and let us see if there is a place near the tree. From our vantage point above the cove, we can watch for approaching ships. It gives us a tactical advantage. If we see a ship, we can hide the Devonshire deeper in the cove or position ourselves to take them.”
Randall commanded a regiment to climb up to the cliff, then haul up the gold, one bucket at a time. There were two other trees set further back, so they set up, roped and pulleyed to all three. It would take several hundred hauls to get it all up. But once there, lazy pirates would not be likely to case the island this far inland, and even lazier still not to hike up the hill to look for treasure. Most hid it in caves around the edges of the island. The heavy loads would be safely covered by water, and only exposed or be easier to reach during low tides.
The plan was a good one, Captain Graham thought. The cove on an island too far out from the shipping lanes, yet close to the coast, with a hidden cove big enough for the ship, was perfect for their purposes. They needed secrecy yet a great vantage point to observe the seas around them, and this worked perfectly. Shark Water Island was aptly named. They had sailed their way carefully among the shallow reefs that could open the bottom of a hull easily. All around it, all they had seen in its aqua blue waters were hundreds of the great circling beasts. No wonder sailors feared to stop here.
*
***
*****
***
*
CHAPTER 4
Keiko and Julian in Costa Rica Present Day
“Thank you for flying Air Costa,” the airport courtesy van driver said as he unpacked their bags at the entrance to the resort onto a luggage trolley attended to by a porter for the resort. It was breathtaking. Palm trees swayed in the light breeze, the sky was an impossible shade of blue, and some optical illusion of the light hovered around them so low Keiko had the impression she was surrounded by sky.
After leaving the chilly climate of early winter in D.C. the warmth of the tropics was truly heaven.
The porter said, “Dr. and Mrs. Wolf?”
“No one’s ever called me Mrs. Wolf before,” she whispered to Julian.
Julian answered, “Get used to it.”
“So I don’t have any say in it?” she said teasingly.
Julian answered, “Look if you don’t like it, get your doctorate, then we can be Dr. and Dr. Wolf.”
Keiko squeezed him on his arm. “I’m very happy to be Mrs. Wolf. And I don’t want to think about going on for my doctorate just yet. Let me finish my master's. It’s not like I’m just slouching around drinking frozen drinks and curling my toes in the sand. Give me an hour.”
The porter took off with their luggage into the huge open air registration area open to the outside but under the roof. Keiko and Julian followed behind. As the porter went with the cart over a crack in the stone floor one of the bags started to tip over, falling off the cart. “Hey!” Julian said as the porter stopped to help him with the bag. “Be careful. We have some expensive cameras and electronics here.”
“Sorry,” the porter said as he packed the bag carrying some of their equipment back into place on the cart.
When they entered their room, Keiko crossed and swung open the white shuttered doors at the opposite end. The doors glided open, out towards a small stone patio area surrounded by lush elephant ears, palms, and other tropical plants she wasn’t familiar with. A path wound through them to the white sandy beach. The sound of the waves washing up on the shore with the gentle breeze made the whole experience breathtaking. Julian came up behind her and hugged her.
“Can you imagine? How he must have felt?”
“Who?” Julian asked as he nuzzled her ear.
Keiko spoke, “Bennett Graham, Bloody Graham the pirate. This land is intoxicating. Is that why he was willing to give up his position, turn pirate? Did he hope to build a life here with the treasure? I mean, he had a career, a position of respect. Why in the world would he give it all up? It doesn’t make sense.”
Julian sighed. “Wasn’t this supposed to be partly a honeymoon, honey? I want this evening to be about us, and then tomorrow we can get to work. Let’s stick to a schedule. Julian kissed her neck. “I’m willing to share you with Bloody Graham, if you give up your treasure to me.”
Keiko spun around and hugged Julian. “It’s a deal, tonight I’m all yours. But tomorrow, we have work to do.”
Julian kissed Keiko to the sound of the waves on the shore as they let the waves of their passion take them far away from everything but them.
***
Later in the Afternoon
Out of the dark an older model dark colored car drove up in front of the Sea Bella Resort.
The driver opened the car door. As Della stepped out, her long legs acted as just a preview to the beauty to whom they were attached. She frowned as she stood, then brushed down her dress, “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”
Ray said, “You’ll feel much better when you have one of those silly umbrella drinks
in your hand, and you’re sitting on the beach in the morning.”
“What I really want is a cup of coffee and a hot shower. What time were our lovebirds checking in?”
“Earlier this afternoon.”
“Do you know what room they’re in?"
“Yeah, we’re two rooms up from them,” Ray said as he peeled a couple of bills off the top of a bundle. He handed the bills to the porter.
“A two bedroom right?” Della said while adjusting her sunglasses on the top of her head.
Ray smirked in Della's direction, “This is a couple’s resort, they don’t have two bedrooms. But don’t worry, I brought my hammock. You can have the bed.”
“A hammock?”
“Yeah. Not the old fashioned kind, it’s one of those new-fangled survival thingies. It’s cool. It really is like sleeping on air. I use it all the time when I’m on the road. Wait until you see it.”
Della rolled her eyes, “Ray, you are just one big kid at heart aren’t you?”
“That’s what you like about me, admit it.” They waited for the porter to adjust the recently unloaded luggage onto the cart, while the driver of the car took Ray’s tip, closed the trunk, got back in, and drove off.
“I’m not sure why I like you." Della answered, "I think I’m here trying to figure it out.”
Ray nodded. “I’ll take that. While we’re on surveillance you’ll have lots of time to figure yourself out.”
“I don’t need to figure me out.”
“Sure you do, if you don’t know why you’re here.”
“I know why I’m here.”
“Sure you do.”
“Stop it!” Della said.
“Stop what?”
“You know.”
“Women,” Ray said shaking his head as he walked slightly behind Della toward the check in.
“Stop that!” She said over her shoulder. She waited until he caught up to her, and then she took his arm. “You were checking out my walk.”
“So?”
Della just shook her head, took a deep breath and laughed. “You are something else.”
“Just brushing up on my surveillance skills,” Ray said.
***
The Next Morning Julian and Keiko
“Wow, this place really is a paradise." Keiko said as she poured herself a cup of coffee, then one for Julian and brought it back to the bed. With the shutter doors swung open they had a view over the garden out to the beach where the waves never stopped in their quest to climb up onto the shore. “Of the boats listed for rent, which one should we hire?”
“The one least likely to turn us over to the pirates for money or to the men staking their lives on finding treasure.”
“Ha, ha, very funny.” Keiko sipped her coffee. “This Costa Rican stuff is so fresh. Remind me to switch to this when we get back home.”
“Let’s stay in a little while longer. I’m just getting used to relaxing. Besides you kept me up way too late last night.”
“Aren’t you dying to get out there and look?”
“No. If it’s still there, which is highly doubtful, another few hours won’t make any difference.”
“Well, I can’t wait.” Keiko jumped back out of bed and went to her suitcase. She took out a map of the area and spread it out. "We really need to tour these islands over here. The one south of Cocos, Caño, and this little one over here. If we can match which one resembles our map the most, it could be the key to finding it.”
Keiko brought a copy of the treasure map back to bed to show Julian.
“The names back in 1818 would not have necessarily have been the same. Since the name was written over and changed from Cocos to Caño, there’s a chance it’s not that one either, but one of these two. See the reference here to sharks?”
Keiko pointed to an area on the map, “Why make a big deal out of sharks when all the islands obviously have them swimming around?”
Julian shrugged, took a sip of his coffee, then spoke, “Sharks like reefs. Maybe one of the islands has more barrier reefs or the right conditions to act as nurseries. Or maybe they migrate here, and after a long ocean swim it’s dinner time. Time to chow down. Maybe the sailors noticed. Reefs are very damaging to the underside of boats and can sink them. Between sharks and reefs, this island may have been too dangerous to approach.”
“What else do we have to go on?” Julian asked.
Keiko spread out the different copies “I've taken different magnification levels of the map. Plus, I've noted what’s left of the historical record, which frankly is mainly folklore, so it may not be accurate at all.” Keiko shuffled her papers and handed one to Julian.
“As far as Captain Bennett Graham is concerned, we only know he was ordered in 1817 by the Prince-Regent George IV on behalf of his father King George III, to take the Devonshire to do a coastal survey of Costa Rica.” Keiko pointed to another paper and pulled it forward.
“Now I have been able to track the ship. There have been eight HMS Devonshires. This one, his ship, was built in 1812 and launched in September of that year. It was built at the Deptford Royal Navy shipyard. It was one of forty Vengeur class ships commonly referred to as the forty thieves. The Devonshire could hold up to three hundred sailors, and had seventy-four guns. It was a great warship. However, after its launch, the data gets kind of fuzzy. Folklore seems to be the mainstay of the rest of the tale. I found dozens of conflicting stories, with no solid proof of any of them.”
Julian picked up one of the pictures.
Keiko continued, “The most common thread running through the stories is that somewhere between 1817 and 1827, Captain Bennett turned into a rogue pirate. He captured a ship from Spain loaded with gold and silver bullion treasure that he then buried on Cocos, which may or may not be the correct name of the island. The other name I've discovered on the map by using magnification is Caño.”
Julian nodded while listening, sipping his coffee, and reading her notes at the same time.
“It looks like he scratched off the tags on the ‘a’ and the right side of the ‘n’, changing them into an ‘o’ and a ‘c’ respectively.”
Julian interjected, “So he changed the name from Caño to Cocos. Either he named it wrong to begin with, and with his skills that is highly unlikely, or later for some reason he changed it to Cocos to keep the treasure from possibly falling into the wrong hands.”
“Yes.”
Julian spoke up, “Can you grab me a Coke out of the fridge? I love you but I really can’t handle more than a half cup of coffee in the morning. It brings back bad memories of the swill they served over in Iraq.”
Keiko bent over and kissed him, “I’m sorry. I’ll grab you one.” She took his mug, set it on the counter, reached in the small fridge, and brought back his soda.”
Julian picked up one of her notes and read, “Supposedly he was caught sometime after 1827. He was hung for his crime along with several of his crew. The rest were shipped off to a penal colony on the island of Tasmania. Unfortunately, the British Navy did not start keeping records of all its sailors until after 1851.”
Keiko sat back down on the bed and handed him his bottle. He twisted the top off and took a drink. “That’s better.” Julian continued, “So official naval records aren’t much use.”
Keiko shook her head in agreement, “Yeah, but at least it gives us a starting point date wise for the ship. Its launch confirms the correct timeline.”
Julian nodded. “So how much of the story can we forensically verify through this map? Were you able to confirm that the map was made after 1812?”
“Yes. See these markings for the lunar calendar?” Keiko pointed to an area of the map with some numbers and letters. “These are longitudinal coordinates that are not quite correct, but exactly match those of the time period from the Nautical Almanac, which kept time from 1767-1833. That is the publication Captain Graham's crew would have used. During this brief time period, Greenwich standard time, noon was used as the startin
g hour, not midnight, same as on the map!”
“Great. So we can narrow down the map’s creation to before 1833, which again ties in with the correct period of time.”
“Exactly. Now if we can account for storms that may have affected the coastline between 1817 and 1833...” Keiko trailed off.
Julian interjected, "If someone after 1833 used the incorrect longitudinal numbers based on the old almanac, or if they used the correct ones from the modern…”
“They would have been digging in the wrong place!” Keiko said triumphantly.
Julian continued, “We can narrow down the island and refine our search matching the map to more correctly correlate with what the coast would have looked like in that time period with the old numbers and come closer to what should be the correct spot.”
“Yes! This is why if someone had the map or the numbers, they still would not have stumbled across the right location.” Keiko smiled.
Keiko handed Julian the next group of papers. “Here’s a listing of some of the big storms that hit the coast between 1901 and now. I contacted the National Weather Service, and they sent me a topographical map of how those storms changed the coasts. I asked them to extrapolate it back another eighty years, and this is what they came up with. I traced the outline onto a piece of Mylar so I could overlay it on the existing islands, and this is what it looks like.”
Julian and Keiko both examined the changed outlines of the islands. “What do you think?”
Julian took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair. “I think you’re a very smart woman.”
“The coasts have changed quite a bit haven’t they?”
Julian looked at the islands, the contrast of what their past shores looked like to what was now before them. None of them matched up, and none were even close to the map drawn by Captain Graham.
“I think we’re looking for a needle in a haystack.”
“You can certainly see why Mary couldn’t lead the search party back to the exact location. How confusing and frustrating it must have been for her. This area still has some active earthquakes. They may have changed the topography even more.”
“Let’s think about this rationally,” Julian said, “since the coastline has moved, let's look at topography for a moment. Maybe we should hire a copter for fly-bys over all three, and compare it to the map from the top down. They are all old volcanic peaks, but see how on the map this seems to bend? Maybe a change of view will have something else pop out at us.”