“Yes,” said Andre. “What do we do if a shark attacks?”
“Try your very best not to make it angry,” Drakov said.
They moved on, walking like ballet dancers in slow motion across the sloping underwater ridge. Overhead, a giant manta ray “flew” past, its huge wings rippling gracefully. The jagged peaks of coral all around them teemed with life. Bright flashes of movement made the coral seem to gleam as tiny fish darted in and out of the numerous crevices. The sandy bottom they walked on sloped into a valley and fell off to greater depths beyond.
Drakov pointed. “There she lies,” he said. “La Floridana in her watery grave.”
It was a large wreck. Pieces of the ship were scattered allover the slope. Broken, ribbed sections of the hull brought to mind the picked-clean carcass of some giant underwater mammal. One broken section of mast stuck up at an odd angle, the other masts had been sheared off. A large mound of ballast stones from the ruptured hull looked like a convict’s rock pile, encrusted with vegetation, coral and shellfish. A large lobster scuttled across it. The crew of the Nautilus were already at work, two of them manning a portable airlift which had been clocked down from the submarine. Lightweight and powerful, the airlift was a compressor and a pipe with a diameter of twelve inches, steel teeth around its mouth for cutting through the sea grass. There was a valve upon the pipe for diverting the suction into the sea. In this way, the suction action could be stopped and a clogged pipe would not become buoyant and start to rise.
“Treasure hunting is hard work,” said Drakov, as they stood on a small rise watching the divers move around the wreck. “Much of it is done by hand. In order to check for hidden contraband, the ballast must be sorted through, stone by stone. It is a task which must be done slowly and carefully, or the stones which make up the mound could shift and trap a diver, even crush him.”
“What are they doing with that pipe?” said Verne.
“The airlift is the principal means of liberating loose items from the sea bottom,” Drakov said. “Other tools used are handpicks, spades and prybars. The men you see there are at work enlarging that opening in the hull. It will enable them to get inside the cargo hold, a task made easier by the position of the wreck.”
One of the divers came into view, brandishing a skull. Another found a cutlass. There were many cannonballs, ceramic pieces, shards of china and porcelain. The undiscovered wreck still contained all the cargo it had gone down with. Drakov was after the gold.
“Our ability to arrive upon the scene not long after the ship went down makes our task a great deal easier,” said Drakov. “There is still a ship to search through and there are still wooden chests to be found. A ship which has been underwater for a considerable length of time falls prey to the teredo, a voracious parasite also known as shipworm. The wood is eaten away and the vessel slowly disintegrates. Wood weakened by the worms breaks off and is carried away by the current or buried beneath the sand. Only mahogany and the larger, heavier pieces of timber survive for any great length of time. Iron falls prey to oxidation. Silver turns black with sulphate. Brass turns green and as corrosion sets in, metallic pieces become encrusted with coral and start to resemble stone. In time, the only things remaining to guide the treasure hunter are rotted sections of the hull and piles of ballast stones. The death of La Floridana is a fact, but we have come upon her corpse before it has totally decayed. Look there, already she has started giving up her riches.”
As he pointed, they saw two men bringing out a large wooden chest. They set it down upon the sea floor and began to hammer away at it with their picks, freeing the hasp from the rotting wood. Moments later, it was open, revealing a fortune in silver tarnished by the sea. As they approached to look closer, they saw the chest was full of irregularly shaped slivers, green with the action of the seawater on the copper used in the alloy as a hardening agent.
“Pieces of eight,” said Drakov, taking several and passing them out for the others to examine. “So called because each is worth eight reals. Colonial treasure hunters called them ‘cobs’ because of their irregular shape, which is the result of their being chiseled off a block of silver prior to stamping.”
“There must be hundreds of them in that chest!” said Land.
Simon Hawke
The Nautilus Sanction
One of the divers was heard over their helmets, speaking to Drakov. There was a quick exchange of Russian, then Drakov said, “I am told there are several more such chests within the hold.”
Land needed no more encouragement. He immediately joined the divers at their task of clearing the chests out of the hold. Finn, Lucas and Andre were content to watch, while Verne remained close to Drakov, peppering him with questions, turning ceaselessly in all directions to observe everything about the undersea world he found himself in. Their presence attracted several groupers, which swam about goggle-eyed, curious about the alien intruders. Finn made friends with one, discovering that it like being petted.
As the divers worked, La Floridana steadily disgorged her treasure. Hundreds of pounds of pieces of eight in wooden chests and sacks made of burlap; bar silver; gold doubloons or escudos; silver wedges weighing about four pounds each; silver and gold statues, rings, pendants, necklaces and crosses. They found gold ingots and an entire chest of gold imperials. They discovered several boxes containing jewelry set with emeralds and rubies, some of the stones the size of eyeballs. One diver spotted the ship’s anchor some distance away, wedged in a coral reef. The ship’s captain had thrown it out in a last desperate attempt to save his vessel from destruction, but it had struck on the submerged reef and the ship turned, foundering.
They went over to look at the anchor. It was huge. Standing, it would have towered over them. Already, the coral was encrusting it. Verne, interested to chip off some to study back aboard the sub, borrowed a handpick from the diver. Some of the coral came away, but a flash of brightness was also revealed. Verne chipped away some more, then the diver took the pick away from him and started chipping at the anchor in earnest. It was gold.
“Congratulations, Mr. Verne,” said Drakov, examining the results. “You have inadvertently uncovered a most audacious smuggling attempt. They made the anchor out of gold and then painted it over. You have discovered a fortune.”
Land swore, furious at not having found it himself, thereby earning a portion of the profits they would realize from its sale.
“Take heart, Mr. Land,” said Drakov. “You have already assisted in recovering much treasure. Your share will not be inconsiderable.”
Land turned away, then turned back quickly and gave Drakov a hard shove. With an exclamation, Drakov fell back, just in time to avoid being struck by a fifteen-foot shark that came diving down at them like a juggernaut. The shark seized upon the other diver and they heard him scream over their helmets as its jaws fastened upon him. A mist of blood filled the water as the shark thrashed, holding the diver in its jaws. Drakov fired his underwater pistol. The needle darts penetrated the shark’s tough. hide and it was paralyzed in seconds. It began to sink to the ocean floor, the diver still held in its jaws. Drakov bent down to check the man.