The Shark Whisperer (20 page)

“Looks like Henry's brought some friends to help,” Coach Fred noted.

“Yeah, and they're talking up a storm,” Rosina said. “Those big black birds are trying to convince the little gray ones that they're not mean or ugly. They say they're really just big softies and beautiful in their own,
special way. I don't know about that. And the seagulls, they won't shut up. They've also got this really annoying laugh.”

The turkey vultures eyed Rosina, cocking their heads to the side. They seemed to either be trying hard to look cute and cuddly or were deciding which of her body parts to peck off first. The seagulls all turned to Rosina as well, staring at her like she'd just made a joke about their mothers.

Ryder and Coach looked at the birds and then to Rosina.

“Well, Gonzales we've finally discovered one of your talents,” Coach Fred said to her. “You're good with birds. Though if I were you, I'd be more careful about what I say about them.”

Rosina actually smiled. “They say they're ready to go. The ospreys want to be the leaders if there's a bird team. But the turkey vultures are arguing. They want to be at the front. And the seagulls are whining about how they never get to go first.”

“We can use all the help we can get and decide who goes first later,” Coach Fred said. He then whistled loudly. Ms. Sanchez and the others in the water looked up. He waved them in. “Time to pack up and get moving, before it gets too light.”

14

THE CAVE

T
HE DAWN WINDS WERE CALM AND THE SKIES
clear. Though the sun had yet to emerge, shafts of orange light streamed skyward heralding its rise in the east. On the seaward side of the small narrow Bahamian island of Stanley's Neck, two small open boats were slowly weaving their way through very shallow water. The drivers raised the outboard engines' propellers to avoid hitting the underlying coral and rocks. It was a precarious ride at best, even in full daylight. They approached the entrance to the cave and reduced their speed further. The boats, one behind the other, hugged the right side of the channel where Mr. M had said it was the deepest. A tunnel led the way in. As they entered, only darkness lay ahead.

In the front boat, Ms. Sanchez pulled out a plastic
light stick. She bent it so that two chemicals inside mixed, producing a luminous green glow. The light reflected off the tunnel's wet rock walls. It was as if they had entered the gaping maw of a giant stone monster, dripping with saliva. Tristan and the others sat nervously quiet and still as they went further into the island's underworld.

The tunnel narrowed and the roof got lower. They all instinctively ducked. Tristan, Sam, and Hugh were in the front boat with Coach Fred and Ms. Sanchez, while Rosina and Ryder were in the other vessel with Director Davis. Tristan wondered if they had reached the end of the cave. If so, it wasn't much of a hiding place.

The roof and walls then abruptly disappeared. They motored forward into an eerie open darkness. Ms. Sanchez threw the light stick. It sailed through the air illuminating their surroundings before falling into the water far ahead. They were in an enormous cavern, at least as big as a football field.

Coach Fred cracked another light stick. He steered his boat to the right, zigzagging around cream-colored stalagmites that rose like marble columns from the cave's floor. Tristan looked up. Spires hung down from the ceiling, smooth stone icicles dripping from their tips. Coach docked his boat at a rocky ledge and Director Davis guided the other craft next to it. A loud rustling, flapping sound echoed through the cavern.

Hugh ducked. “Bats?”

The two little blue herons landed on the bow of the director's boat.

“Looks like our stealth flyers are back, right on time,” Coach Fred said. “Gonzales, if you'd do the honors.”

Rosina looked pleased. “Yeah, uh, sure.”

Director Davis watched the girl closely. He was visibly uncomfortable with the young campers being there.

Rosina reported to the others what the little blue herons had seen, ending with, “They saw three men on board, but there may be more. And some of them have guns. Birds hate guns. Don't like the people that use them much either.”

“Birds aren't the only ones who don't like guns,” Director Davis said to Coach Fred and Ms. Sanchez. “We should have left the campers with Mr. M at the lab.”

“All the more reason to get our people off that yacht as quickly as possible,” Coach replied. “Don't worry, we'll stay out of range.”

“You'd better,” Director Davis said anxiously.

“Time for phase two,” Coach ordered. “Everyone well-hydrated? Take a few more sips and then Haverford and Marten you're up. Hop on over the side.”

While the campers drank some Sea Camp water, Ms. Sanchez cracked another light stick. She hung it on a line tied off to a cleat on the boat. Tristan and the others leaned over to look into the water below. It was about ten feet deep and crystal clear. In the green glow of the light stick an extraordinary menagerie of marine life was stirring.

“Awesome,” Tristan said.

“Excellent,” Sam added.

“
Great
. . .” Hugh muttered with about as much enthusiasm as someone afraid of heights about to walk out on a ledge at the top of the Empire State Building.

Next to the submerged light stick hovered three squid, each a foot long. Their eight arms and two long tentacles were stretched out, waving in front of their soft bag-like bodies. They had huge iridescent eyes and fluttering translucent fins along their sides. A bunch of sleek silver fish hovered below the squid. The shiny fish floated motionless with their mouths agape, revealing sharp stiletto teeth.

“Are those barracuda?” Hugh asked nervously.

“Oh yes, they are quite quick, very curious, and always territorial,” Ms. Sanchez said.

“What do they eat?”

“Not to worry Hugh. I'm sure they'll be on their best behavior. Normally they'd be chasing the squid and trying to intimidate or at least question everything in the area. This is probably part of their home range.”

Just then, three pink round jellyfish as big as basketballs drifted through the light.

“Jeez, jellyfish too?” Hugh said, shaking his head.

“Just some lazy moon jellies. But look on the bottom, Hugh.”

Sitting on the seafloor, two octopus stared up at them. Their suckered arms were splayed out and they were pale green, matching the glow from the light stick. Several large pinky-red crabs used their front pinchers to tentatively poke at one of the octopus's arms as if they were trying to test its patience.

Two dolphins came up to the side of the boat where Sam was leaning over.

“Oh, hi there,” she said smiling.

“Okay folks, enough gawking and chitchat. Get a move on,” Coach Fred ordered.

Sam hesitated for only a moment before slipping in beside the dolphins. Hugh was not so quick to jump in. He took his time taking off his windbreaker and was about to take off his T-shirt, but then decided to leave it on. He drank some more water and checked the pockets of his swim trunks. Sitting on the small dive platform at the back of the boat, he stared into the water and at the wildlife below.

“No problem, Hugh. You can do this,” Tristan said. “Remember why we're here. Think
adventure
.”

“Yeah, easy for you to say. You're not the one going in
there
.”

“Oh for Pete's sake,” Coach Fred said heading toward Hugh.

Hugh saw him coming and slid into the water, keeping one hand on the dive platform. Several barracuda inched closer. Jellyfish bumped his leg and ran into his arm. Hugh scrambled back onto the dive platform. No one had ever seen him move quite so fast. They all stared at him.

“Yeah, yeah. I'm going back in,” Hugh grumbled. “Have you ever felt one of those things? Yuck! Like big slimy balls of Jell-O.”

Hugh sat down, took a deep breath, and slipped back into the water. He floated for a few minutes, nervously looking around. He then glanced back up at the
boat, eyeing the dive platform. Coach Fred was there staring down at him. Hugh shook his head, took a deep breath, and dove. A few minutes later he popped up, took a breath, and went back underwater. When Hugh returned to the surface he climbed out. He was still shaky, but stood tall with his head held high. He was obviously proud that he'd just gone swimming in a dark cave in water swarming with sea creatures.

“How'd it go?” Ms. Sanchez asked.

“Okay. But the barracudas kept asking all sorts of questions about where I'm from, what I like to eat, what my home is like. The jellyfish didn't seem too interested. They were like, ‘Hey man, what's happening?'”

“They're drifters, pretty laid-back,” Ms. Sanchez said. “Were you able to communicate with the octopus and crabs?”

“Yeah, I told them what the birds told us.”

Just then Sam climbed into the boat. “Okay, the dolphins are ready to go and are getting into position, but there's a problem with the hagfish in the Tongue of the Ocean.”

“Should have figured,” Coach Fred responded. “Those slippery fish always wiggle their way in if there's food, but when it comes to helping out, they slither away. No wonder the eels are always saying that the resemblance between them is superficial. Hagfish only look like eels, but they're really very distant relatives. What's their issue this time?”

“Some of the sharks that were killed were dumped
in the Tongue of the Ocean. A whale died and sank there too. So the hagfish are busy feeding. The dolphins said they're totally drunk on too much food. And some are just too full to move.”

“Sounds like my house at Thanksgiving,” Tristan whispered to Hugh.

“And they wonder why they've got such a bad reputation, always thinking of themselves,” Coach said.

“C'mon Coach, can't really blame the hagfish,” Ms. Sanchez said. “Food like that doesn't come very often in the deep sea. It's like a big buffet raining down from above.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Coach Fred replied. “But they do make the best slime, can produce tons of it fast. Looks like we'll have to make do without their help for our little slip and slide party.”

Rosina made a kind of quiet coughing sound. The others turned toward her.

“Uh, I think maybe I can help.”

“How's that?” Director Davis asked.

“It's kinda gross so I didn't want to say anything. But when I get in the water my hands get all gooey and if I squeeze my fingers together this icky goopy stuff kinda comes out.”

“Why that is fantastic!” Ms. Sanchez said. “You've got mucus deployment skills.”

“Yeah,
fantastic
,” Rosina said, clearly not as pleased with her newfound talent.

“Cool,” Tristan added, while Sam looked completely grossed out.

“That's great, but I'm not sure that will help in our current situation,” Director Davis said. “I don't want any of you campers on or too close to that yacht.”

“Hmmm,” Coach Fred pondered. “Given the other members of our team, I think there is a way she could help.”

While pulling out the small plastic sample bags that the lab always kept stashed in the boat, Coach explained his idea. Smiles crept across the campers' faces.