13
L ast night ended up so much better after I spoke to Beck. Cork had ordered a beautiful meal after speaking briefly with Beck while I was unpacking. But I felt embarrassed and ashamed by jumping to conclusions. It was silly of me, and I did my best to make it up to Cork.
After spending the evening on the balcony, finishing up the wine and dessert, I suggested we shower off the stubborn remnants of sand from the beach earlier. Washing each other had quickly led to wild and frantic love-making as if we were both trying to find each other again. It was clear my misunderstanding had rattled us both. We’d fallen into bed and clung together, breathing each other in. I closed my eyes for a moment, allowing the memory of our passion and tenderness to sneak in.
I looked at him now, the dashboard lights reflecting on his features. My heart warmed with emotion for this man. He’d crept into a special place, and I knew now my overreaction had been because of my growing feelings for him. The thought of his betrayal had cut me deeply. Cork had grown to be more than just a partner in treasure hunting, he was filling more of my life as a companion, lover, friend, and possibly even more. He glanced at me and smiled, squeezing my hand that was in his.
“Almost there. Are you excited?” he asked me.
“More than you’ll ever know.”
We drove through the empty streets, and it was still dark when we arrived at the marina. Security lights on the docks cast a yellow glow onto the boats. It was quiet and hushed. The only sound was water lapping softly against the hull of the boats, and the occasional clink of rigging. Even the sea birds were still sleeping.
We wasted no time loading our gear onto the boat Cork had rented. Moving efficiently and quickly, soon we were motoring through the marina and into the outer harbour. The water was calm.
“I hope the visibility has cleared up,” I commented. “You know where you’re going, right?”
Faint streaks of sunrise lightened the sky, but it was still dark and I was unsure how well he knew the waters.
“Yep. Thataway.” He pointed, and I saw him smile in the early dawn light.
“Yes, thataway.”
We arrived at the dive spot. The sun was a little higher, and I looked over the edge of the boat into the sparkling depths. The water wasn’t as murky as yesterday.
“Look, the visibility is better today,” I said and scanned the sea bottom. It wasn’t too deep here, maybe 30 to 45 feet, hopefully we would find the Sirena . Either she wasn’t here at all or centuries of tides, the ebb and flow of the sea bottom had buried her.
“That’s a good sign. Here, get suited up.” I took the shortie wet suit Cork handed to me and shimmied into it.
He helped me with my tank and I his. We were ready and before we left the boat, he put the dive flag out. I’d forgotten to think about it and was glad he had. Getting run over wasn’t on my bucket list.
We checked each other’s gear on to the transom dive platform then stepped into the water. The embrace of the ocean and its silence was like coming home. We faced each other and gave a thumbs up before descending. The world above disappeared, replaced by the muted silence of the sea.
Thankfully, the visibility was quite good, and as the sun rose, it became a magical place. The rays sparkling off darting fish, the sand white with a shimmery pink hue, and the coral heads busy with life. But I needed to get my bearings and stopped, hovering at about twenty feet, and looked around. The sea bottom had changed. The sand had shifted thanks to the hurricane, and I couldn’t find the familiar coral heads I remember using as landmarks.
My heart sank. Cork motioned to me. I shrugged my shoulders and pointed down. We didn’t have full face masks with microphones, which was something I would get for future dives, thanks to Beck. Cork looked around him and pointed to a hump under the sand.
I nodded and we dove. I was so disappointed to have lost the location of the coral where I’d found the coins. What if we never found it again, and it was lost forever? No, I couldn’t accept that. We’d find it.
My heart pounded in my chest as we swam toward the hump in the sand. I wanted to surface and take a bearing on the shore landmarks to make sure we hadn’t strayed too far from where I’d first found the coins, but I didn’t. We needed to continue this search and make notes on the now defunct map I’d used before. Marking the new landmarks Gilbert had exposed and noting the ones covered up.
We were over the hump Cork had spotted. It was so pretty the way the surf had created little mini waves in the sand that ran as far as visibility allowed until the brightness from the rising sun faded into a deep blue in the distance. I loved it underwater. When I was a kid, I imagined I was a mermaid with a sea horse to ride. Oh, for the simple life again.
I stopped and dropped my feet so I could kick my fins to move some sand and see if there was anything interesting beneath it. Cork dove and swept away more with his hand. From here I could see the shoal ran a ways parallel to the shore.The higher the sun rose, the easier it was to see the bottom.
A weird feeling grew in the pit of my stomach, but I didn’t know why. So much had changed, and it was like starting my search all over again. Slowly I spun around, absorbing everything in my line of sight. From the endless little sand bars on the bottom, to the reef at the mouth of this lagoon, to the coral heads now almost covered with sand, and other ones newly exposed. The familiar landscape of the ocean floor had shifted, making everything feel both strange and new.
Then I saw something just ahead. I pointed and swam over. It was in a deeper spot, and I could see it had a sunken middle so that the outer ring formed a heart. I sucked in a breath and grabbed Cork’s arm. We descended, and I checked my depth gauge. It was about thirty-three feet here. My dad had muttered something about how Sirena was in the heart. He’d become obsessed with hearts, and I had assumed he meant his heart. The boat was in his heart.
My heart surged, adrenaline rushing through me and I reached down to touch the sand, sweeping it away. I stopped when I saw something glinting in the rays of the sun streaming through the water. Cork appeared at my side, his eyes wide with awe, then together we gently shifted the sand with our hands to see what lay beneath.
I couldn’t help myself and plunged my hands into the sand, scooping it up. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Cork held my hand and fanned the water so the sand floated away. Coins, just like the ones we’d found that first time together. He closed my hand and reached for the mesh bag. Holding it open, I dropped them in and we looked for more. It was like scooping up pebbles in a quarry. There were so many, and we quickly filled the bag. I pulled out a flag and pushed the stake into the sand, then got the coordinates logged into my watch. No way was I going to lose this location.
We had to keep going. Keep looking. Cork showed me his air gauge and held up his hand, fingers splayed indicating we had about ten minutes left. I nodded, and we swam parallel about fifteen feet apart, scanning the bottom.
Another coral head appeared. It was bigger, and I could see the rise of sand where we’d just found the coins snake along the sea bottom to the coral. A variety of coral, rocks, and what appeared like trees poked out of the sand. Cork met me and looked at the sight before us.
Half-buried in the sand and covered with coral and other detritus was the unmistakable shape that could only be a ship. Pieces of wood worn and weathered by centuries beneath the waves stuck out of the sand and were unmistakably the ribs of a ship’s hull.
I wanted to shout, to scream in triumph, but that would have to wait until we surfaced. Tears blurred my vision, and I reached out to touch a jutting length of wood. I imagined I could feel the energy of the ship, the shouts and thump of the sailors’ boots on deck, clanging of the ship’s bell, the creak of the lines, snap of the sails, and how majestically she’d ridden the waves, proud and tall, straining against the wind, safely protecting the treasure in her belly. Until she’d fallen upon the reef and had been lost below the waves.
Suddenly it was all so real, leaving me in breathless awe. This wasn’t just a shipwreck, it was the grave of many, holding secrets of the past. As well as my father’s dream come to life. What he’d spent his whole life searching for.
I was profoundly moved, and vowed that this discovery would be preserved. Saved and honored for those that lost their lives on her, and recovered for future generations to appreciate.