“Rocko,” asked John as he shook his head, “Does your boat have anything like this? I mean those cabins and now the washroom. Wow, is all I can say.”
Rocko grinned and said, “Not even close! These boats were built for the mega rich of the day. All of this opulence went away as they started to miniaturize everything. No, these days are gone for the average sailor.”
After going through the vessel the four men went to the galley and seeing enough food and drink for the entire trip, declared themselves ready to shove off.
It was 12 noon, when John slipped the long manila rope from the dock and Rocko gently backed out. He turned the ship towards the Narrows and then the Atlantic Ocean.
John had the first shift to shovel coal and it wasn’t too long before they realized that it was fairly easy to keep the pressure up simply by shoveling for fifteen minutes and resting forty-five.
Rocko showed the three other time travelers the compass heading they needed to stay on and all took turns at the wheel.
It was at 6:15 p.m. that they realized how grateful they were that Matt came along as he whipped up steaks and potatoes for them followed by black and white cookies and coffee.
“Matt,” asked Bill as he reached for a cookie, “did you bake them onboard?”
“No sir, when I knew that we needed to take an ocean voyage, I went back and purchased a dozen and sort of hid them in my valise.”
Rocko assigned sleeping time for them, making sure that there was always one to man the wheel and another to keep the steam up. They kept the radio on to hear if any other ship was deliberately heading towards the same area that they were. Nobody had any problem sleeping on the boat as the ocean was flat and they made a steady ten knots without tiring any of them out and Matt kept making great meals and the coffee flowing.
DATELINE: APRIL 17, 1912 PLACE: SOUTHEAST OF THE TITANIC’S DISASTER
It was nine a.m. and the four men stood in the enclosed cockpit, which was the highest part of the boat. Bill and Rocko had binoculars while Matt and John each looked through a long glass. Rocko had stopped the engine and they put out a sea anchor to keep the boat from drifting too fast.
“I suggest we search in quarters, guys,” Bill said. This way, if the iceberg passes on either side of us, we’ll catch sight of her.” All agreed and Rocko scanned the horizon at the front of the boat while John searched the rear, Bill the port side and Matt took the starboard side.
At eleven thirty Matt suggested that Rocko scan his side as well as his own while he makes some coffee and snacks. All agreed and he went below.
Fifteen minutes later he was coming up on deck with a tray of full coffee mugs and sandwiches when he heard John shout, “Iceberg off the rear.”
All quickly gathered at the rear of the boat.
“Yep! Rocko said, “About twelve miles away. Hardly moving at all and we’ll catch her easily.”
“I’ll turn her about and,” he added as he looked at the pressure gauge, “ I’ll need ten minutes of coal shoveling.”
“I’ll shovel,” said Bill, “But I think that we should all eat while we can.”
All agreed and ten minutes later, Bill had shoveled enough to give Rocko ten knots of speed.
Photo by: Wikimedia Commons
One hour and twenty-minutes later they were near the immense iceberg. Rocko expertly circled it and when they were on the opposite side, they knew it was the killer iceberg by the red smear of paint along its side.
“It’s the iceberg,” quipped Rocko.
“It’s 1:15,” said Bill checking his watch. I think we should hop aboard her and see if we can find the painting.”
As the temperature was on the warm side, they decided to skip the furs and board the berg in their more flexible clothing.
“Can we get close without us getting sunk?” he asked Rocko.
“Yes. At only 9.3 feet we have a fairly shallow draft and I’ll bring us in slowly.”
It took Rocko thirty minutes of gently approaching the berg and when all of his sailing experiences told him that they were close enough, he called out for John to toss the long rope with an anchor attached to it onto the iceberg. John tossed it and watched as it slid off and into the ocean. He pulled it up and tossed again. It took eight tries before the anchor gripped the slick iceberg. Although they floated together as one unit, there was still a three foot space between the iceberg and the tip of their boat..
“2:07,” said Bill, giving all a time check, “I’m going to go across first.”
The three men watched as he jumped across the dark water and landed lightly on a fairly flat section of the iceberg.
“Toss me the other anchor,” he called and John tossed it across. It slid down and off the berg and Bill almost followed it as he tried to grab the rope. “Try again, John.”
Three tries later the anchor grabbed the slick ice and Bill grabbed it. John released more line and Bill wrapped it around a six-foot high spike of ice. “Give it a pull, John.”
John pulled, but the rope and anchor never budged.
“Okay,” said Bill, “who’s next?”
Matt jumped and was followed by John.
Rocko looked across and called out, “Bill, better that I stay with the boat. If those lines give way, at least I can back away and land elsewhere.”
“Good thinking, Rocko. I hope we’ll be back shortly.”
Bill naturally took the lead and the three men walked gingerly across the iceberg. The climb was two steps forward and one back as it was slippery and had so many crags that if someone fell in one it would be a hard time getting them out in one piece. Once on the other side, they walked along the 200-foot long iceberg searching for the red smear that would tell them that they were on the side that the ship hit, which was the same side that faced the porthole that Adel Damien had tossed the painting from.
“Sir, look there,” called out Matt as he pointed at the beginning of the long line of red paint on the side of the berg.
Bill nodded and slowly started down the one hundred foot side. Matt and John followed when Matt suddenly said excitedly, “Sir! Where are you?”
“Is he alright, Matt?” called John as he followed him.
“Sir,” answered Matt, “I don’t know. He has disappeared.”
“We should have all been tied together,” said John. “Matt, I’m right behind you.” In less than thirty seconds he stood next to Matt on a small ledge and looked down. “Did he fall in the water, Matt?”
“I heard no report of an object hitting water, sir,” he answered.
“I guess that means no, right?”
“Yes sir, that means no, I don’t believe that he is in the water as I heard no splash.”
John shook his head, peered over the ledge and called out, “Bill! Bill Scott. Are you alright?”
Bill’s voice came up as an echo as he answered, “Wait until you guys see this.”
“Bill, are you okay?” asked John again.
“Yes. I’m fine. Come on down.”
The two men climbed down and suddenly found themselves on a ledge that opened behind them as a deep cave in the iceberg.
“Bill,” shouted John into the mouth of the cave. “Are you back there?”
“Yes. Come on in.”
The two men entered the dark cave and after twenty paces were amazed to see a wide crevice above them that allowed sunlight to pour into the rear of the ice cave. The light gave the ice a color of light blue, while the sun bounced off of the many nooks and crannies, which acted as mirrors reflecting all the colors of the rainbow. Against that light-show stood Bill, his hands on his hips as he stared at a section of the ice wall.
“Have you found the painting?” asked John as they approached him.
Bill just answered in a low tone of voice, “Look at this. Look at what I found.” He pointed at a section of flat ice and both John and Matt squinted to see what he was referring to.
Suddenly both men saw what Bill was staring at. Frozen in the ic
e was the dark figure of an animal, very wide at the shoulders and neck. It stood eight feet tall and its pose was one of attack as it was slightly hunched with its legs bent as though it was going to pounce on something. Its arms were outstretched with huge fingers or claws. It seemed to have a coat of shaggy black or dark hair while its head appeared to be bare.
“W-What is it?” asked John.
“Like no creature that I’ve ever seen, sir,” added an ashen-faced Matt.
“Or me,” said Bill as he ran his hand over the ice. “I wonder how it got trapped in there?”
Suddenly there was a slight tremor and a crack appeared in the ice on the opposite wall. All three men instinctively covered their heads with crossed arms.
“What was that?” asked John.
Bill answered in a low tone of voice, “I remember when I was in training with the Navy SEALs, an instructor once said that if for some reason we were ever doing a mission on an iceberg or glacier, keep talking to a minimum as the vibrations can be enough to crack the ice and even split it.”
John nodded, “I think we need to get the painting before this thing melts right under us. I’m a poor swimmer.”
The three men left the cave and climbed down the side of the slick iceberg.
“There’s the red paint line,” said Bill pointing. “I have to think that the painting must be above it as the paint came from the hull which is lower than the first class cabins that she threw it from.”
The three time travelers walked slowly along the area they suspected the painting would be in but found nothing.
Matt looked up at the darkening sky and said, “I checked the weather in this area on this date and it stated that it was clear. However, the weathermen of the day took their readings from ships that were at sea and as the conditions varied from place to place, they might have gotten it too late and just speculated.”
Bill looked around, “It is getting dark fast. I guess we should get back to the boat and resume in the morning.”
The trip back took over an hour and they were exhausted as they plopped down in the dining room. They had dinner and briefed Rocko on the day’s events.
“An animal in the ice? What, like a bear or something?”
“Like no bear that I’ve ever seen,” said Bill as he sipped a cold beer.
“Maybe it’s one of those prehistoric animals like a dinosaur or something?” offered Rocko.
“I’ve got my cell phone on me,” said Rocko, “Why don’t you guys take it along tomorrow and take some pictures?”
“Good idea,” said Bill as he stood. Right now I’m heading for my cabin. See you guys around eight tomorrow?”
All nodded their agreement and as Bill turned to leave there was a huge sound not unlike an underground explosion that rocked the boat.
“What the heck was that?” asked Rocko.
“The iceberg is splitting up,” said Matt calmly. “It most likely split from the main glacier thousands and thousands of years ago and has been slowly drifting south until it met the Titanic and just kept on drifting south into more temperate waters where it will eventually split again and again until it melts completely.”
As if to punctuate his statement another, even louder, explosion was heard that once again made their boat shudder.
“Gents,” said Rocko, I do hope that you find her tomorrow. In fact, I suggest that you bring along a few axes and large ice picks.”
“Not a bad idea,” said Bill as he left the dining room.
It was nine o’clock in the morning when the three men started out again, this time they were tied together with long lengths of rope. They easily crossed the opening between the boat and the berg and in thirty minutes were back at the cave.
As he removed his gloves and took out Rocko’s cell phone Bill said, “Hey guys, Hold up a minute, I’m going to take a couple of pictures of that animal in an ice cube.”
The three men entered the deep cave and came to the sun drenched section where the animal was frozen in ice.
“Hey,” Bill said in a whisper, “it’s gone!”
“What?” quipped John as he walked up behind Bill, “That’s impossible. Where can it have gone?”
“There,” said Matt as he pointed to the right side of the cave. “Those explosions last evening was nothing more than the iceberg breaking up. Between drifting into the warmer seas and our walking around on it plus the vibrations of our calling out to one another seems to have upset the delicate balance it had achieved thousands of years ago. It’s not unusual for an iceberg to turn completely upside down when a section of it falls away, thus upsetting its balance.”
The broken-off slab of ice that contained the body lay on the floor of the cave and when it fell some of the ice broke off giving the three time travelers a closer look at it.
“It-It almost looks human,” said John as he wiped some chipped ice away from its face.
Bill took an ice pick and chipped away more from the face area and it became even more human looking.
“Cro-Magnon,” said Matt as he knelt down next to it. “This truly is a find.”
“What should we do with it?” John asked.
Bill shrugged his shoulders and said, “I’m not sure. I mean is this more important that finding the Mona Lisa?”
“Why not do both, sir?” asked Matt.
“We do have room on the boat for it,” said John. “But how do we get it aboard? We can’t drag it back across the iceberg to our boat.”
“We float it back,” said Bill.
“Float it back. How?” asked John.
“We bring the boat around to this side and slide the iceman down and into the water. It’ll float and we hook it with the anchor and the four of us pull it aboard and leave it on the rear open deck.”
“Sounds good to me,” said John and Matt nodded in agreement.
“First,” said Bill, “we need to chip off most of the ice or we’ll never be able to lift it up out of the water.” He stood and after a moment said, “If you two go and look for the painting I’ll chip away at the iceman. Okay?”
“Okay,” answered John as he and Matt walked to the front of the cave. As they walked away, they could hear the chipping begin.
It was four o’clock when Matt called out to John, “I’ve found it, John. I can see it from here.”
John came from his section and looked as Matt pointed at the brown wrapped item eight feet down from where they stood.
“Nice work, Matt,” said John as he started down. Ten minutes later they started their walk back to the cave with the Mona Lisa.
“Bill,” John called out as they reached the cave, “Matt found the painting.” Both men entered the cave and seeing Bill still chipping away, went to him. “Bill, look . . .“ John stopped talking when he saw that Bill had chipped off so much of the ice that the iceman’s face was just inches away from the surface. “Bill,” he said in a whisper, “I think you should stop chipping away at the ice.”
Bill seemed to be mesmerized as he looked up at John and said, “Wha-? It’s-it’s so close to the surface, John. And look! His eyes are open and he has steel gray eyes. It’s as though he was begging me to chip away more from his face.”
“Bill, if the air gets to it it’ll start decomposing. I don’t think that we would like that. Right?”
Bill sat back on his haunches and wiped the sweat from his brow. “Yeah, you’re right. But look at his face. No hair! I thought these guys were hairy all over.”
“Sirs,” said Matt as he stood at the bottom of the iceman, “Not only is his face hairless but he wears shoes as well.”
Bill jumped up and joined Matt and John at the man’s feet and sure enough, he was wearing shoes . . . very large ones.
“This is scary,” said John.
Suddenly there was another large boom and the iceberg tilted slightly before resuming its usual attitude.
“Whatever it is that we are going to do,” said John, “we have to do it soon or this thing is goin
g to break up beneath us.”
Matt walked slowly around the slab of ice and said, “I do believe, sirs, that we have chipped enough of the ice off and now must start to move it towards the front of the cave. Then we must alert Rocko of our plan.”
The three men squatted down near its feet and with a heave pushed the ice slab towards the cave’s opening. After a few feet it was easy as it was ice sliding on ice and soon they stood at the cave’s opening.
“Guys,” said Bill as he looked at his pocket watch, “I’m afraid we’re going to have to spend another night aboard the boat. By the time we’re ready to slide it down it’ll be close to dark and we don’t want to be climbing around in the dark, so best we wait until tomorrow morning.”
They both agreed and the three time travelers sat near the iceman as they talked about the best way to get it down the side of the iceberg.
Bill said, “It’s a thirty foot slide so we’ll have Rocko bring the boat in as close as he can and give it a push and hope it doesn’t float past him. What do you think?”
“I think it’s a good plan and I don’t think that we need to worry about it floating past Rocko. He’s too good with a boat.”
Suddenly they heard the throb of an engine and watched as a small cutter came around the iceberg. Three men stood in the wheelhouse and all waved at up them.
“Boy, what a time for visitors,” said John.
“They probably believe that we are survivors of the Titanic and they’re going to rescue us.”
“Guess they didn’t see the boat on the other side of the berg,” quipped John as they waved back.
The cutter had a shallower draft, which allowed it to get in close to the iceberg. The three men stepped easily from the boat to the iceberg and soon all three joined Bill, John and Matt in the cave.
Book 11 Page 20
