“The phosphorescence was stronger than I’d ever seen it in all my years on the ocean. Within the powerful water of the rogue wave it gave the appearance of coming alive and taking control. Afterwards, the wave dispersed and the glow disappeared with it.”
“Did it take long to sink?”
“We didn’t sink. We limped into the Florida Keys, towed by a local tugboat and utilizing internal buoyancy devices to support us. The pumps worked through the night, and the emergency teams tried to block the multitude of holes in the hull. The ship will be sold for scrap metal, but at least it didn’t rest on the bottom.”
“Really? My father didn’t mention that. I just assumed the photos I’d seen were taken from the lifeboats. I was told all three cargo vessels were destroyed.”
“The other two ships sunk within minutes. I believe both had their hull broken in two. As for the Global Star, it didn’t sink, but it may as well have. There was so much damage done to every inch of her hull and inner frame that her repair costs would far outweigh the cost of a rebuild.”
“Where is she now?”
“On the dry stand in Fort Lauderdale — awaiting scrapping.”
“Thanks. Oh, one more thing. I know you were coming past Bermuda at the time of the event. Can you tell me your specific location when the wave struck?”
“Yeah, I was in line with South Bimini Island — exactly twenty miles west of it.”
“Thank you Leslie. Enjoy your-hard earned leave time.” Sam ended the phone call and looked at Tom, “I’d say that’s an amazing coincidence where the rogue wave struck, wouldn’t you?”
Tom grunted. “Oh no, I’m not buying into the whole Bimini Road conspiracy again!”
Chapter Twelve
Sam contacted the next two captains. Each one gave a similar story, uneventful right up to the moment their gigantic ships were capsized and sunk by an unlikely rogue wave. The environment, the swell, the weather all appeared non-specific, unrelated and incapable of sinking a supertanker or even a major cargo vessel.
“Well Tom, what do you make of that?” Sam said.
“I don’t know what to make of it. It all sounds like one hell of a coincidence, but nothing more.”
“You don’t think it’s all a little too convenient that all three vessels were attacked by a rogue wave within an area at sea of less than five miles?”
“We’re calling it an attack now?” Tom teased.
“Yes. It’s impossible to call this simply bad luck.”
“I’m not saying it makes sense. I’m just saying that I don’t believe in your Bimini Road theory.”
“I’m just following the evidence, and it tells me that I was right all those years ago about the true purpose of the Bimini Road.” Sam sighed. Even he knew it was a long shot. “Okay, so it’s an underwater formation of rectangular limestone rocks out from North Bimini Island that runs nearly half a mile in a northeast-southwest linear direction directly towards the site of the rogue waves. No one’s ever been able to prove the significance of the strange feature, but I’d say it worth at least looking at the prospect of the two strange events being connected.”
Tom stood up. “You said yourself that the place has been proven beyond a doubt to be a natural formation of stones on the seabed.”
“I did. And I believe it still. What I’m suggesting is that perhaps this was a natural occurring formation that lead to the right environment to produce rogue waves. The ancient seafaring tribes knew this and were able to use it to gain an advantage over cargo ships, pirates, and Man o’War ships during the 17th century.”
“And yet, you’ve never found evidence of such a tribe or the many shipwrecks that you said they caused?”
“No, but watch me find them now that I know where to look.”
“You’re talking about diving where the other cargo ships were sunk?”
“Yes. If I’m right, there will be a shipping graveyard below.” Sam brought up the image of the other two ships. The first one had broken in half and was still floundering in the water; while the second one had been almost entirely sunk, with the bow just sticking above the water. “Tell me, apart from their similar locations, what else did you notice about the stories that all three captains told?”
“The story seems to get more ridiculous. Three highly experienced sea captains, each with more than thirty years experiences behind them. Each one giving the same basic story, and each one within ten nautical miles west of North Bimini Island.”
“None of them telling us anything to help.”
Tom smiled. “But each captain was certain of one thing.”
“What?”
“They’d never seen the phosphorescence so bright!”
Sam grinned. Pleased to see that his friend had finally become taken by the story, if nothing else. “So they did. But of course, Bermuda is full of phosphorescent plankton, and it’s conceivable that if a rogue wave was to strike a sea full of phosphorescence the stuff is going to glow like it never had before.”
“Yes, but doesn’t it strike you as odd that each captain was adamant he’d never seen the phosphorescence glow like that before. They almost described the plankton as sinister, as it ran towards them.”
“Are you suggesting the plankton caused this?” Sam asked.
“No, of course not. That’s the sort of crazy theory you’d come up with. I’m just saying that whatever condition is likely to cause the massive proliferation of bioluminescent plankton may also be the sort of condition that causes a rogue wave to develop.”
“Of course!” Sam stood up from his desk. “What if Captain Miller was right about his theory? That the rogue wave generator was like having a rocket aimed at a fixed position. Only, it’s not just fixed at a certain position — the weapon doesn’t fire on demand. Instead whoever is in control can only use the increase in plankton to work out the trigger for formation of a rogue wave?”
“And what sort of conditions cause the proliferation of plankton?”
“Warm weather.”
“And warm weather causes a change in the ocean’s swell. Find out what that change is and we might find out how these waves are being created.”
“Find that and we might just be on to something.”
Chapter Thirteen
Sam Reilly knocked at the door. It was a small apartment building on the MIT’s university grounds, where Timothy Locke often taught. By the third knock, an elderly man opened the door. He was quite tall, at least Tom Bower’s height, although his frame appeared much frailer.
“I’m sorry to interrupt you, sir. Are you Professor Timothy Locke?” Sam asked.
The man studied Sam’s face. The slightest sign of recognition in his eyes. “You were a student here. Did I teach you?”
“It was a long time, but I never took any of your subjects.”
“Pity. I heard that you’ve made quite a name for yourself Mr. Reilly.”
“So you do know me?”
“No, but I’ve heard of your exploits on the ocean. And I’ve watched your escapades over the years. A couple amazing discoveries of historical significance, and some not so astonishing.” He sighed. “At any rate. You’ve had quite the adventure.”
“Thanks. This is Tom Bower. He’s been involved in many of the searches over the years. Do you mind if we come in? There are some things I’m hoping you can help me with.”
Locke’s eyes darted between both men. He then stepped out of his apartment and scanned the people in the university’s quadrangle. “Sure.”
Sam and Tom followed the man inside.
Locke turned on the radio and then loud enough for anyone outside to hear, he said, “Okay, tell me about your literature review, then I’ll hear the premise for your thesis.”