“Nothing like enough really,” Rod added, “but it might at least allow us to locate the site” He looked out across the moonlit water. “It's a bit hit and miss but we might as well try. There is nothing to lose is there!”
“Dick reckons we should start out from here about five in the morning in order to arrive well before slack water,” Oscar observed.
“At least we will be able to tow our mini magnetometer about a bit while we're waiting - you never know, we might get lucky,” Rod added enthusiastically.
“Well I'm going to get some sleep in that case.” Oscar stood up.
Marion put out her hand to stop him.
“I'll go first.”
Oscar stood back, remembering Dick and Annie below, and marvelling at feminine intuition.
The hydraulic winch easily pulled up the anchor chain as they prepared to leave the following morning. Greg stood with a hose washing away the mud and odd bits of seaweed before the chain vanished down the hawse pipe; eventually the anchor itself appeared covered in mud and clanked noisily into its holding blocks. Greg gave the thumbs up signal as he hosed away the last bits of mud. Dick returned the signal and the boat moved gently ahead.
It was pretty crowded on board and the Australian divers had wisely chosen to sleep under the stars, rather than on the cramped banquette seating in the stuffy saloon.
Dick pushed the throttles forward and although the speed increased, the boat was obviously stern heavy.
“Even with all her power she's noticing the extra weight,” he observed critically, looking back at his deck littered with the heavy diving equipment. “We should move some of the weight forward to keep her on an even plane.”
They responded silently to his request, moving the compressor up to the wheelhouse; most of the remaining gear they moved forward into the saloon. The boat's attitude in the water changed significantly and the log notched up another five knots.
“That's better my baby.” Dick patted the side of the dashboard, talking aloud to his beloved boat.
It took just over three hours to reach the spot on the chart where Greg estimated the submarine to be located. Dick judged that the tide was still running at about four knots to the northwest, which meant the water was still running from the continental shelf into the deeper water. That would cause a powerful undercurrent and not at all suitable for free diving.
“Better to wait for slack water in about two hours - then the divers will have about an hour before the tide turns and the flow comes surging up from the deep water and into the bay,” Dick advised the eager men.
“With such powerful currents if there is anything down there I suspect that it will have been significantly eroded by the flow of the sand-laden water acting like sandpaper on the metal hull,” Rod explained. “Ships like the Titanic are preserved because there is little or no tide movement down where she is lying but out here, well, we'll see won't we?” he smiled at the attentive group.
Slim rigged his mini magnetometer to a length of heavy fishing line and a small float. They would tow it up and down over the target areas to search the depths for any metal objects. Its signals would be translated into images on a tiny hand held screen.
“It's barely man enough for a job like this but it may just give us a rough fix.” Slim looked up at Dick “OK then. Can we traverse the area at about six knots, up an down tracks, a bit like mowing the lawn please,” he smiled, his rich Australian accent somehow making it sound so simple
For about an hour they trawled up and down as requested - then suddenly they received a distinctive ping from the sensing equipment. Greg pressed the Mark button on his hand held GPS.
“The first one! Well we've made a start!” The mood on board changed to air of high expectancy. They soon had several marks on the plotter - and not all in the same position - but Greg was convinced.
“A pattern is definitely developing,” he insisted.
They were all so immersed in their search that they did not notice the two boats approaching at high speed. In fact they were less than a hundred metres away before Dick looked up and warned the others.
“Oh Christ it's those bastards who had a go at us last week.”
Annie had also seen them and ducked below to find the shotguns. The boats slowed and took up station on either side of Dick's boat. Several armed men stood menacingly, holding their weapons at the ready.
“Stop your engines,” a voice commanded.
Annie appeared with the two ten-gauge semi-auto shotguns.
“I've loaded them,” she whispered. “Five shots in each. SG then solid alternatively - it's the best combination,” she confirmed casually.
Dick ignored the instruction to stop.
“Better pull your gadget in, we are going to have to make a quick getaway!”
He looked at Annie.
“Leave those on the floor. Then I want you two girls and the child down in the forward cabin. Greg, you and Oscar get down there as well - we're going to need all the weight forward if we are to get onto the plane quickly and outrun these buggers. I hope our Aussie friends can shoot!” Greg and Oscar obeyed without question.
The magnetometer was recovered and the two divers moved to stand by Dick with the loaded guns ready out of sight at their feet.
“I don't think they'll shoot until we show our true intentions so I'm going to try to make a run for it now, OK boys?”
They nodded a little apprehensively. Rod looked astern and noticed a large seagoing tug had appeared out of the heat haze; it was probably about a mile away but heading in their direction.
“Look mate!” Rod tugged Dick sleeve. “We've got more company!”
Dick didn't wait - he slammed the throttles to full. The boat lurched forward but one engine seemed to falter for a moment; the other struggled to lift the loaded boat. The minute's delay seemed like eternity, then gradually as the missing engine cleared itself and fed more power to the propeller, the boat responded and finally accelerated away but not before their tormentors had time to give chase, having correctly anticipated that Dick would try to escape. The men on one of the boats were able to fire a few shots but the acceleration of their own vessel made it difficult to aim with any accuracy. It wasn't long however before they recovered and began to fire shots with uncomfortable precision.
Rod and Slim picked up the shotguns and positioned themselves kneeling on the deck at the transom. They returned the fire but didn't appear to achieve any visible hits on the pursuing boats.
Erratically weaving and turning at maximum speed as they tried to out-manoeuvre each other, all the boats were inexorably getting closer to the approaching tug. The mini battle had raged for about five minutes when a voice on the radio called, “This is the Ocean Tug Deep Blue to vessels engaged in firing. Stop at once or we will fire on all of you!” The call was repeated twice but ignored.
A loud explosion followed as some kind of missile detonated fifty metres ahead of Dick's boat. He looked across to the tug only three hundred metres away and could clearly see a man standing on the protruding prow, holding a rocket launcher. Those on the boats astern had also seen the deadly weapon and pulled away heading at full power in the other direction. Dick pulled the throttles back and allowed his boat to come to rest. The man on the tug did not fire again. Greg and Oscar emerged from below. The tug slowed and stopped; armed men lined the rail. Slim and Rod discreetly pushed their weapons out of sight
“What's the hell's going on then?” Big J shouted angrily from the wheelhouse Tannoy. “A bunch of bloody pirates I expect,” he said out of the side of his mouth to Alex, who was standing at his side.
“Looks more like a refugee boat to me. My God there's even a child on board.” Alex was examining the boat with the binoculars. “I know that man!” he exclaimed suddenly. “And that one!” He fiddled with the focus. “I wonder what they're up to out here?”
Alex dashed from the bridge to the deck as Dick's boat drifted alongside the Tug. He called across to the boat,
“Greg, Greg Sing! It's Alex, Alex Scott.” He waved. Greg looked up in alarm when he heard his name called out.
“My God Alex, where the hell have you come from? You're supposed to be dead!”
“Not yet old friend, and you Oscar, what brings you out here?” Alex confirmed his recognition. “You'd better get your lot aboard here. I suspect we have some catching up to do!”
Dick reluctantly agreed to let his boat be towed behind the tug but he spent most of his time standing near the stern keeping a fatherly eye on her.
Alex, Greg and Oscar sat in the canteen sipping cool beer from the bottles while Greg explained their new treasure hunt venture, culminating with their current dire circumstances.
Alex listened patiently until Greg had completed his amazing story.
“Absolutely fascinating and such an incredible coincidence,” Alex responded. “I think you should meet my friend John Lawrence. He is a diver with all the equipment you need and more importantly he has the same crazy sense of adventure as you guys!”
Alex briefly explained his own mission and his chance meeting with John and Big J's dive tug.
“I suspect that if you were to involve these chaps you would have a fighting chance of finding your pot of gold!” Alex looked at them. “Do you want to think about it?”
Greg looked at Oscar “My gut feeling, especially after today's little episode, is that we are unlikely to make much progress without some big brother assistance. What do you think?”
Oscar smiled.
“Simple, I think to miss the opportunity of using all these professional facilities would be quite stupid.” Then he looked back at Alex. “I can't tell you just how pleased I am to see you survived that air disaster.” He looked away and bowed his head. “This wretched gold - it's claimed so many lives; what a terrible price and how much more is there to pay!”
Greg was never quite so emotional.
“Come on, I know that lives have been sacrificed but is not necessarily our fault, so I don't think we should let that influence our decision to continue the search for the submarine.” He turned to Alex. “Do you?”
“I think it's time for you guys to meet Big J and John. Perhaps that will help you with your consciences.” Alex stood up, taking out his mobile telephone. “I'll have to call John on the satellite phone. He's out there on the cargo boat.” He gestured vaguely towards the horizon.
w
At first the Captain was reluctant to agree to John's terms. The idea of letting some stranger take over seventy-five percent of his ship seemed preposterous. However, after considering all the suggested possible alternatives, including being to be sent to the bottom with his ship or just being thrown overboard, as he now realised must have happened to Greg's former partners, or perhaps even worse being returned to the arms of his not so understanding Syndicate partners. The alternative of retaining twenty-five percent of the vessel and working with John and Big J. made much better sense.
John of course saw it as a golden opportunity to obtain a ship and kick-start his own diving business.
“Would you be upset if I set up on my own Big J?” John asked anxiously.
Big J looked serious and did not answer for a moment.
“There must be enough work in the area to support two businesses,” John suggested in an attempt to soften his proposal.
“There certainly is but it would be better if there was just one, much larger, more efficient company working the contracts.” Big J looked at John. “It would be much smarter if we were to go into business together. So I propose a fifty-fifty partnership, what do you say?” Big J proposed, setting his jaw.
Stunned by the proposal, John reacted excitedly. “But your ship and all the gear must be much more valuable than this vessel?”
“Perhaps - and we can sort all that out by creating loans for the imbalance. Look I've worked with you for the last six months; I know that we think the same way, so for my part it would silly to miss the opportunity to join forces and to expand the business together. âDivide and grow' my old man used to tell me, now I understand what he meant!”
It was all agreed on a handshake. They would sort out all the legal paperwork when they returned to Darwin. So John set course to Australia with the prize ship dreaming of his new exciting future.
Big J agreed to call into Manila to deliver his human cargo as well as to ensure that Sing the wounded diver and the Syndicate guard received urgently hospital treatment.
“Hospital's too good for that Syndicate bastard, he should be shot and fed to the sharks,” Alex asserted but made no attempt to challenge Big J's decision.
About one hour after the two ships started their separate journeys, Big J observed the three motorboats cavorting in their deadly chase.
Several miles away, John was still standing on the bridge gazing at the horizon, still high with the wonder of his sudden and exciting change of fortune, when the satellite telephone buzzed. The captain reflexively picked it up.
“Captain speaking.” He listened for a moment then passed the hand set to John. “It's Alex for you.”
“Yes Alex.” John turned his back on the captain and walked out on to the starboard wing. He knew the tug was out there somewhere but the heat haze reduced visibility to a few miles. He listened in silence as Alex carefully explained the situation regarding Oscar, Greg and the sunken gold. John's face remained expressionless though his heartbeat accelerated significantly.
“Just thought it may interest you, always assuming it's all accurate.”
“What does Big J think?” John swallowed his excitement.
“I think he's game if you are. You better speak with him.”
Big J came on the phone.
“The thing is John, we have about a week in hand before we start the next job. It would have been R and R time for us all, so why not spend a day or two having a look eh? I'm sure the lads will be all for it!”