Read Spirits of the Pirate House Online

Authors: Paul Ferrante

Tags: #history, #paranormal, #pirates, #buccaneer, #reality tv, #ghost hunters, #bermuda, #tv show, #paul ferrante, #investivation, #pirate ghosts, #teen ghost hunters, #tj jackson mystery

Spirits of the Pirate House (16 page)

BOOK: Spirits of the Pirate House
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“No problem. I even went snorkeling today,
thanks to T.J.”

“Then, that’s it for today,” said Mike with a
yawn. “Rest up. Tomorrow, the adventure
really
begins!”

 

Chapter
Fifteen

 


You’ve definitely
improved since last year, Cuz,” said LouAnne as they approached the
halfway point on the Railway Trail. “You’re running much more free
and easy.”

“Thanks,” said T.J., who was matching her
stride for stride. “It wasn’t as hard to get back into it after
baseball ended as I thought.”

“I think we’ll try to get one more practice
run in on Thursday, then rest our legs on Friday so we’re fresh for
the race.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Above the runners a
slight breeze caused droplets of rainwater from an overnight shower
to pepper them with refreshing moisture. “Hey, did you enjoy your
afternoon at the Royal Dockyard?”

“Yeah. It’s cool how they turned that fort
into shops and all. And the Maritime Museum was interesting. I
guess there’s only one place left to check out, and that’s
Hamilton.”

“Well, on Wednesdays they have this thing
called Harbour Night. Supposed to be like this big outdoor festival
on Front Street where the cruise ships dock. Dad said something
about going into Hamilton for dinner at an Italian place he knows
and then checking out Harbour Night.”

“Sounds great, but don’t you sometimes get
the feeling we’re kinda losing focus on why we’re here?”

“Huh?”

“I mean, I’ve only been on the island a day
or so and I feel like I’m on vacation, instead of a ghost hunting
expedition.”

“Well, today’s dive should get everybody
focused. Not that we’re really gonna find anything major—”

“You don’t think so?”

“Cuz, even Mike said that the dive segment is
just a part of the ‘local color’ deal. I bet if the TV show airs
it’ll be less than five minutes. But it’ll give me and Bortnicker a
chance to do some real diving in clear water, and I’ve been looking
forward to that since we started the course with Capt. Kenny.”

“Speaking of Bortnicker, could he be any more
into Ronnie? He follows her around like a puppy dog.”

“Excuse me for saying this, Cuz, but she’s
pretty easy to follow. Besides, she pays a lot of attention to him,
which, believe me, has never happened since I’ve known him.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Is she coming
along on the boat today?”

“I wouldn’t bet against it. Race you to the
end?”

“Let’s do it!” she said, and they sprinted
off together.

* * * *

Chappy turned into the Jobson’s Cove
Apartments driveway to find Mike and his team ready to go, their
dive equipment neatly bagged. The teens were sporting their flashy
JGGC
tee shirts, which they would be wearing in the
water.

In the car, Mike turned from the passenger
seat and told his team that he was looking for some exciting
footage. “We’re not here to look at coral and fish, guys,” he
reminded. “Anything and everything that could give us a clue as to
the ship’s identity is what we want.

“I spoke to Jasper Goodwin this morning, and
he’s actually going to give you dudes a kind of handheld metal
detector that you can wave around over anything you think isn’t
natural. Who knows what you might find?”

“Cool!” said Bortnicker. “I wouldn’t mind
some doubloons or pieces of eight.”

“Keep dreaming,” cautioned T.J. “That wreck
had to have been picked over centuries ago.”

“Don’t be so negative, Cuz,” scolded LouAnne.
“The least you could do is show me something exciting while I’m
filming.”

“Okay, okay,” said T.J. “But jeez, don’t get
too hopeful about all this.”

“Hey, uh, Mike,” said Bortnicker, “did Mr.
Goodwin mention whether his daughter was coming?”

“As a matter of fact, dude, she is,” said
Mike with a sly grin. “Apparently, she asked onto the trip, so her
dad’s got some part-time employee watching the shop. Is that okay
with all of you?”

“Uh-huh,” said LouAnne.

“Fine with me,” said T.J.

“As long as she doesn’t get in the way,”
offered Bortnicker, trying to hide his excitement.

“Hey, Chappy,” said T.J., “you ever go
diving?”

“No, not for me, T.J.,” he answered. “I’m
like Miss LouAnne back there. I’d rather be on top of the water
looking down than on the bottom looking up.”

“Gotcha.”

“But I have to say,” he added, “that I have a
strange feeling about today. In a good way, that is. I think you’re
going to find something interesting.”

“See?” said LouAnne, elbowing her cousin in
the ribs. “Positive thinking!”

They arrived at Blue Lagoon and carried their
bags around back where Jasper Goodwin, Ronnie, and Skeeter were
securing the dive tanks to their holders along the inner sides of
the gunwales. Ronnie took a second from her work to shoot them a
quick wave.

The team handed their bags down to Skeeter
and then stepped aboard. It was a perfect day to dive; there was
hardly a cloud in the sky and only the slightest hint of breeze,
which would help decrease the amount of chop on the water.

“Welcome to
Reef Seeker II
,” said
Jasper, shaking hands first with Weinstein before greeting the
teens. “And you will be our film photographer?” he asked LouAnne
with a brilliant smile.

“That’s me—the scaredy-cat,” she
answered.

“Well, I’ve got a great float for you to use
that I’ve rigged a tow line to, so you’ll be able to have both
hands free to maneuver your camera.”

LouAnne, relieved, gave the captain a
thumbs-up.

“A few more minutes, folks, and we’ll be
underway. We’re going to have a bit of a trip ahead of us to get to
our destination because we’re on the other side of the island. So,
we’ll leave this cove and push on to that bridge near where you
went snorkeling yesterday, then take a left and follow the coast to
a point a few miles off Gibbs Hill Lighthouse, where I found the
wreck. Don’t worry, I have the coordinates locked into my GPS, so
we’ll be over the exact spot in about an hour.

“I’ve also taken the liberty of packing some
sandwiches and bottled water for you. I figure we’ll be good for
two dives today, about 45 minutes each. Conditions seem to be
optimal, though that could change out there. Let’s get cracking,
then!” He clapped his hands for emphasis as Skeeter fired up the
twin inboard engines that shattered the quiet air with a sense of
purpose.

They threw off the mooring lines and slowly
crept away from the dock, observing the 5 mph wake rule that was
posted on a buoy nearby. As LouAnne and Mike lounged on seats near
the stern, Ronnie helped the boys check out their BCD vests and
other equipment. She fitted them with weighted belts and pointed
out the tanks they’d be using. The boys grew more excited with
anticipation as the
Reef Seeker II
left the cove, and
Skeeter opened her up, speeding for the bridge where they could
shortcut to the South Shore.

They passed Treasure Beach and turned left,
skirting the shore, maneuvering in and out of the reefs. Here and
there another boat passed and they waved, but little was said, each
member of the party alone with his thoughts. T.J. and Bortnicker
went through Capt. Kenny’s safety checklist while LouAnne prayed
she wouldn’t foul up the filming.

Finally the Gibbs Hill Lighthouse came into
view, and the
Reef Seeker II
began to slow as Jasper and
Skeeter picked their way through the reefs, some of which were
barely submerged. Skeeter then went to the front of the bow and
gave Jasper hand signals to go left or right. The boat was now
crawling, heightening the team’s tension.

Finally they came to a clearing, and Skeeter
flashed the stop sign. Jasper checked his GPS coordinates.
“Brilliant!” he called out. “We’re right over it!” LouAnne, who was
sitting next to her cousin, gave his thigh a quick supportive
squeeze.

Jasper flicked off the ignition and
immediately sent the remotely controlled anchor spinning downward.
After a few seconds the chain line went slack; Skeeter set the
anchor, and gave Jasper a thumbs-up.

“Okay, boys,” said the captain, pulling up a
deck chair. “Let’s make sure of our hand signals, shall we?” As he
called them out, T.J. and Bortnicker showed him Distress, Danger,
Okay, Out of Air, and other gestures they’d been taught in
Connecticut. Satisfied with their responses, he gave them the dive
plan as Mike stood nearby. “All righty then. You’ll be doing two
dives today, each approximately 45 minutes in length. The first,
for which I’ll accompany you as a precaution, is solely for the
purpose of becoming acclimated with your equipment and
surroundings.

“You’ll notice the outline of a few timbers,
if you look closely, and also a somewhat scattered pile of ballast
stones. There are also a couple cannon. Of course, everything’s
going to be encrusted with marine growth; that’s to be expected.
Believe me, it takes a trained eye to make out anything of note, so
don’t get frustrated if nothing jumps out at you, so to speak.

“Now, you’ll be diving in relatively shallow
water, so if you find yourself in any sort of trouble give us a
signal and ascend. There are some reefs about, but we’d rather you
stay off them unless absolutely necessary, for two reasons. First,
stepping on them can damage the marine life. Second, some species
of coral are extremely sharp and will slice right through a flipper
or your diving gloves. Okay so far?”

The boys nodded intently, and T.J. could feel
his stomach knotting the same way it had before his training dive
in Bridgeport Harbor.

“Right. Just one more thing. The water has
been rather warm lately, so I wouldn’t expect any unwelcome
visitors in the area, though a few barracuda might pass by, which
you’ll do best to steer clear of and calmly ignore. But Skeeter
will keep a close watch on the surrounding area for any signs of
sharks. If he sees something, even off in the distance, his signal
to us will be to start the boat’s engine. Even underwater, the
sound will be unmistakably clear. But again, I wouldn’t worry about
that. So, are we ready?”

“You know it,” said Bortnicker, putting on
his brave face for Ronnie, who stood to the side with her arms
crossed.

“Brilliant. Then get your BCD vests on and
check your regulators. I’d like to be in the water in a few.”

Ronnie and LouAnne assisted as the boys
rigged up, giving the thumbs-up as they took a few breaths through
their regulators. Jasper helped fit on their tanks, and they spat
in their masks before swishing some saltwater around. Goodwin
adjusted his own kit quickly and then toppled backward off the
gunwale into the water after a quick thumbs up.

“What time you got?” said T.J., checking his
Capt. Kenny dive watch.

“Eleven-thirty,” answered Bortnicker.

“Okay, so we’ve got till 12:15, max.”

“I’m going to have LouAnne film my sound bite
as you guys jump in,” said Mike. “Then I’ll help her over the side
with the float, and it’s showtime.”

“Good luck, guys,” said Ronnie, who quickly
leaned over and gave Bortnicker a peck on the cheek. LouAnne opted
for a fist bump with each boy. And then, one at a time, they copied
Jasper’s backward tumble into the turquoise water.

T.J. effected a slow drift down, adjusting
his BCD to counteract his weighted belt. After clearing his ears at
about twelve feet, it was an easy descent to the bottom.

Capt. Kenny, you were so right
, he
thought as a palette of nature’s colors bloomed around him. One
hundred percent visibility. He glanced over at Bortnicker, who gave
him a clenched-fist “Yeah!” signal. It was all he could do to slow
his breathing so as not to gulp oxygen. While Jasper Goodwin swam
about on the fringes, probably looking for a spiny lobster or two,
the boys glided along a couple feet off the bottom, trying to make
out the shapes Goodwin had mentioned on the boat.
This isn’t as
easy as it looks on TV
, thought T.J.

But then, ten minutes or so into the dive, he
saw Bortnicker pointing to a mound of some sort. Swimming over, he
realized that it was a pile of three cannon, each about six feet
long, heavily encrusted with coral and fuzzy sea growth. They
looked like the Lincoln Logs he’d played with as a boy.

Their next discovery was a ragged hill of
ballast stones, each roughly the size of a peewee football. They
were making progress.

Soon a splash was felt overhead, and a dark
shape sent a shadow over the bottom. Momentarily panicked, the
divers peered up to see it was only LouAnne positioning her float
over the wreck site. Bortnicker looked at T.J. and patted his chest
as if to say, “She almost gave me a heart attack!” T.J. nodded,
then relaxed. He inflated his BCD a bit to get a view from higher
up of the site, hoping that some other shapes would reveal
themselves. This proved fruitful, as he was able to somewhat
identify the ghostly remainders of the ship’s timbers below. As
Jasper had told them that first day at Blue Lagoon, it was a sloop,
not a full-blown Spanish galleon. He motioned to Bortnicker to join
him, and pointed out the faint outlines of the timbers. Bortnicker
nodded and gave him a thumbs-up of recognition.

Just then a couple barracuda drifted by them,
their razor sharp teeth evident as they flashed a slightly menacing
smile. But nothing could deter T.J. or his friend. They were having
the time of their lives.

The boys made a couple more passes, then
spied Goodwin giving them the sign to ascend. Locating the anchor
rope, they found their way back to the
Reef Seeker II
with
no problem. Mike helped them aboard, where Ronnie was ready to help
unhook their tanks.

“Awesome!” blurted Bortnicker the second his
mask was off.

BOOK: Spirits of the Pirate House
8.35Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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