Tomb of Atlantis (9 page)

Atlantis - Chapter 5

"OK, time to get the show on the road," Jack announced.

Standing on the edge of the float, he took a deep breath of air and exhaled his nervous energy. The previous half hour,
he had spent preparing for his dive. Having placed a large hammock-type netting between the floats, he created a temporary platform to assemble his equipment onto.

Not having tested the netting, Jack recognized a flaw in the design right away. With all his equipment assembled on it, the combined weight stretched the netting and its contents into the water.

"Dammit, I guess taking a peaceful nap is out of the question," he joked loudly, breaking the extreme quiet.

He sat on the edge of one of the floats and slipped into his wet suit. As he did, he began to notice tiny fish coming to investigate the strange new objects floating above their world. With the net resting in the water, he watched as the fish poked and pecked at the contents.

Occasionally, he felt the fish tickle his bare feet as they dangled in the water. At first, he laughed and thought they were cute, but soon his imagination began to visualize images of menacing sharks pulling him from the floats. Sharks in the Caribbean are common and Jack knew that his fears were based in fact. In all likelihood, there probably was a shark swimming nearby, but the fact was, he needed to dive whether they were there or not. He had come this far and wasn't going to let his fears derail his opportunity. Quickly, he forced the unpleasant images out of his mind and focused on the task at hand.

Having slipped into his diving gear, Jack floated in the water below the plane. Attached to his weight belt were his deepwater flashlight, camera, hoisting bag, rope and towline, as well as an extra full size air tank and a mini air tank called a "pony bottle."

He put on his snorkel and goggles and looked down into the water. Aside from minute particles floating on by, he could not see the ocean floor. Without objects to gauge the waters visibility, he had no idea how deep he would have to descend before he would be able to see anything. The idea of diving into nothingness was frightening.

Jack placed the air regulator in his mouth and took a few deep breaths. Satisfied with its performance, there was nothing more for him to do. He reached over and grabbed the anchor line, took one last look around and began to descend.

His plan was a simple one. He would follow the anchor line, head first, down to the bottom. The point at which the anchor held would be very close to the metallic object he saw in the water six years ago. He knew he had drifted past it upon landing, so his plan was to swim twenty feet past the anchor to compensate for overshooting, then swim on a heading of two hundred eighty degrees for the next twenty minutes, figuring the currents might have caused the metal object to drift in that direction. If after twenty minutes he found nothing, he decided that he would turn around and go back to the anchor point, where he would head for the surface.

One small complication Jack worried about with a dive this deep was upon ascending, he would need to stop just before the surface at the fifteen foot level
where he had suspended a spare air tank, and "hang" at that depth for fifteen minutes while his body decompressed. Anything less and he would be susceptible to the bends, a painful and deadly condition that occurs as your body absorbs nitrogen bubbles due to the higher pressures in deep waters.

As
he swam down the line, the sun’s rays penetrated the clear water, illuminating the rope many feet in front of him. Although he couldn't see the bottom yet, he estimated the visibility to be somewhere around thirty to thirty-five feet.

He kicked his fins hard and used the rope to help him descend. Pulling on the rope, hand over hand, he worked his way deeper. As he descended, he relieved the painful pressure in his ears by holding his nose, closing his mouth and blowing hard until the pain receded. Every five feet he needed to repeat the process. He hated this part of diving due to the slight headache that resulted from equalizing the pressures, but welcomed the necessary evil over the alternative—ruptured eardrums.

Jack descended past the seventy-five foot marker on the rope. He was now roughly twenty-five below the surface. Looking up, he could see the bottom of the floats to his plane clearly, and above that, he could just make out the silhouette of the wings and fuselage. Turning back toward his descent, in front of him loomed the darkness of the unknown. Looking around, he wondered what man-eating fish might be stalking him just beyond his visibility. He swallowed hard and continued on, trying not to let his fears get the best of him.

As he pas
sed the fifty foot marker on the rope, the area took on quite a different feel. He could tell the water was still clear, but now it was much darker. Looking up toward the surface, he could see faint light of the sun’s rays still penetrating through the water. He had the sensation of being suspended in midair and the same eerie feeling that he was being watched. Once again, he buried his fears and focused on his descent.

Jack stopped swimming. Although there was still some light at his depth, he was now at the point where a flashlight would greatly improve visibility. He reached back and fumbled for his flashlight. Switching it on, he pointed it in front of h
im. Several feet below him was the twenty-five foot marker. He was close to the bottom now and the prospect of touching the ocean's floor sent a surge of excitement and energy through him. He kicked hard and continued his descent.

The light began to pick up small particles in th
e water. Unlike those that he’d been seeing down through the depths of his descent, these were slightly heavier and took on a greenish hue. Jack focused hard as he continued downward and noticed they started to form in masses that took on strange shapes. Passing the twenty-five foot marker on the rope, the strange shapes suddenly began to look distinct.

Concentrating hard now, Jack strained his eyes to make out what he was seeing. Suddenly,
the strange irregular shapes became the ocean's floor. He was nearly there and each kick of his fins brought definition that gave life to the new world he was about to visit.

“Yesss,” Jack said through his regulator, sending a stream of bubbles upward.

Moments later, he stood on a silt- and algae-covered pile of rocks that cradled the anchor. He followed the rope upward but soon lost it in the shadows above. All around him, illuminated by his powerful flashlight, he could see features that made up his new world: endless piles of rocks, sand, underwater vegetation, and marine life.

One thing was conspicuously absent: the metallic object that claimed the purpose of the trip. Jack scanned
his new world, but nowhere in that panorama was anything shiny or metallic. Undeterred, he accepted the circumstance and carried on.

Like a welcoming committee receiving a new visitor, tiny fish curiously investigated the new stranger in their area. Jack marveled at their color and their courage as they swam through the beams of light being projected from his flashlight. He extended his hand and watched a few move away, then swim closer to inspect his
fingers.

He
felt he could play with the fish all day, but knew his time was limited. Checking his depth and pressure gauges, he could see that he was one hundred five feet below the surface and had used nearly a quarter of a tank of air to get there. He then set a dial on his watch and noted the time: nine twenty-four a.m. He would have only twenty minutes to search the area.

Quickly, he grabbed his towline—a spool of cord used to track his path—and tied it to the anchor. Checking his gauges again, he read his compass, turned and immediately began to swim along his predetermined path. Paying out the thin cord behind him, Jack began his search for the metallic object.

With his gauges held out in front of him, he followed the compass on a heading of two hundred eighty degrees, the original heading he had flown in his plane six years before when he had spotted the object in the water. Making shallow sweeps left to right, he was able to broaden his search path along his heading. As he searched, Jack routinely adjusted his height above the ocean floor, trying to hover high enough to see a good distance all around him, but not so high as to inhibit distinction from object to object.

Swimming slowly, being careful not to overlook anything unusual, Jack lightly pumped his legs, propelling himself forward, all the while keeping an eye out for dangerous predators. The idea of something attacking him from behind gnawed at his subconscious and he turned around from time to time to ensure he was
indeed alone.

For the first few minutes, the path below him was partially sandy with heavy vegetation growing up from the floor. Small boulders scattered about helped to break up the landscape. As he passed
through the area, he came upon a rockier section that created a small ridgeline along his path. Using his hands, he pulled his way up the rocks, and then continued floating along the higher ridgeline.

Looking down the right side of the shallow ridge, Jack spotted something shiny hiding in the seaweed. Quickly, he darted down to investigate. He felt a sense of excitement as he neared the object. Suddenly, he stopped short. He recognized the shiny
item straight away. It was the concave bottom surface of an aluminum soda can.

"Dammit,"
he yelled out through his regulator.

He reached down through the weeds and picked up the can. Still in relatively good shape,
he guessed it to be a year or two old.

“Is this it? Is this what I saw?” he thought to himself, as he stared at the slightly faded can.

Immediately, conversations he had with Dr. Samuelson replayed in his mind. The doctor had suggested an old soda can as a possibility and now he stared at the modern relic. He felt disgust and humiliation that this might be the extent of his find.

“No way!” he
said out loudly through his regulator, sending a blast of bubbles toward the surface. “There's no way this is what I saw. I saw a freakin' pyramid, not an old soda can!”

With a renewed sense of purpose,
he kicked his fins and swam back up over the small ridge, then continued on his original track.

Ten minutes had passed. With just ten minutes left before he needed to turn back, he decided to pick up the pace a bit. He figured if the object was that visible from the air six years ago, it should be easy to spot as he floated ten feet above the ocean floor.

Swimming faster now and covering nearly twice as much ground as before, Jack forced his concentration to a heightened intensity. He was now a machine, methodically scanning side to side, using his peripheral vision to avoid turning his head too far to either side, thereby saving energy and time.

Although at his depth, sunlight was dramatically reduced, Jack's powerful flashlight blazed a path of light through the clear water. Now tracking his original heading again, the small ridge gave way to another patch of sand and vegetation. When he saw something of interest, he dove deeper, made a determination, then continued on.

Jack took notice of the marine life as he swam. Tucked away in pockets of seaweed and tiny caves created by the occasional pile of rocks, he observed a variety of fish hiding from predators. Their pleasant colors of bright greens, reds, yellows, and orange were a delight to view as he concentrated on his work.

Jack caught movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to investigate. Standing on a pile of rocks, like the king of its hill, he watched a large crab wave its claws at him as if to warn him to stay away.
As he swam closer, the crab lowered its body and raised its claws higher, threatening Jack with harm. he moved closer and the crab became more emboldened, standing its ground like a sentinel.

Laughing to himself, he reached down to his leg, unsnapped his diver’s knife, and waved it out in front of the crab. Instantly, the crab engaged the knife, striking the blade with its speedy claws. Caught in a duel, Jack thrust and parried his knife like a tiny sword, attacking and counter attacking until the crab retreated into a large hole at the top of the rocks.

He swam a little closer to see where the crab had disappeared to. He looked straight down into the hole and could see that the crab was not alone. There at the bottom of the hole was the crab guarding her children. He had stumbled upon a family. He deduced his powerful light must have caught the mother's attention as he was swimming by and she came out to investigate.

Jack marveled at her choice of homes. It was perfect. The opening was about six inches in diameter and dropped straight down nearly two feet. Any predatory fi
sh large enough to offer a challenge to the crab, would find the opening too small to pass through and the hole too deep to travel down. Nature had provided the perfect home and the crab took full advantage of it.