“Really?”
“Yes. There’s been many a book written about lost treasure being inside shipwrecks buried in these sands. Did you know the desert is slowly moving west, reclaiming the land?”
Sam nodded, he knew exactly how far the dunes moved. “Has anyone ever found any real treasure?”
“Course they have. Not that it makes any sense to me.”
“Why not?”
Max gave him that sort of smile that said he was going to let him in on a secret. “Think about it. You spent a small fortune hiring the dredger. You might not find anything of real value to show after a week out here. Even if you do, it won’t cover much of my fees, unless you really do strike it rich. So the entire thing seems to me like a giant waste of time and money — not that I mind of course — it’s your money and I’m glad to receive your business.”
Sam and Tom laughed.
Sam said, “Thanks for your honesty. We’re not really looking for treasure, so it’s okay.”
Max met his eye, with the hardened stare. “Really? What do you hope to find inside an old shipwreck?”
“Just history. I have a friend whose great ancestor lost his life on this ship. We’re hoping to find it for him.”
“A noble cause. I wish you luck.”
Sam asked, “Just out of interest, if someone was to search for something beneath the sands of the Kalahari Desert, could you move the Orson Scott Card there?”
Max shook his head. “If you were to give me months, I might be able to get a permit to travel with her along the highways at night time, but it would be expensive. Probably cheaper to have a mining dredge or digger built on sight. Or even bring in a bulldozer or two. What are you really looking for out here, Mr. Reilly?”
Sam smiled. “Ancient history.”
Chapter Forty-Five
The first dig took a total of two days to reach and then a further day to excavate enough sand to determine the ship was the Alicia May, a French merchant ship. It took the fourth day to reach the next structure. On the fifth day they discovered the ship was actually the remains of a small whaling cabin, discarded at the end of the whaling era which the coast was named after.
Sam studied the map. Tom had circled three main structures in the sand’s subsurface with the ground penetrating radar. He’d made the decision earlier to search the larger structures and skip the smaller vessels altogether. There was only one vessel left to search. If that came up with nothing, he would have to rethink how he was going to progress with the search. There was a lot of sand and just as many shipwrecks.
In truth, he’d been quite lucky to discover the first two weren’t the Emerald Star early. If he hadn’t found the nameplate of the Alicia May, he might have been digging for a week and still not know if it was the correct ship or not.
On the tenth day they reached the final shipwreck. Sam marked out the location, which would hopefully correlate with a section amidships, where he hoped the main opening might still be accessible. Max started up the large dredging machine.
The Orson Scott Card used a fourteen inch pipe connected to a large centrifugal pump to suction the sand. Its 550 horsepower engine spun two impellers at a rate of 600 RPM. In water, it moved approximately 8,000 gallons of water and sand per minute. In the dry sand, Max was forced to reduce the RPM to 300, which shifted approximately three tons of sand an hour. It ran at a pressure of seven BAR, two below its maximum output, for six hours — before the sand gave way to untarnished wood.
“Stop!” Sam shouted. “We’ve reached something.”
The loud grind of the pump came to a halt, leaving a slight residual ringing in Sam’s ear. Behind him, Max pulled back on the automated suction arm so that it was out of the way. “Okay, Sam, she’s all yours. Go have a look at what you found.”
Sam nodded. He climbed down into the large opening in the sand. “Hey Tom, can you please bring a shovel down here — we might need to manually shift some of this sand.”
“Here,” Tom passed one to him.
Sam ran the back of the shovel along the thick wood of what appeared to be the remains of an old mast. He felt the blade chip away at wood and sand. A moment later, the sound changed. It was something different, something distinctly metallic.
He used his hands to quickly dig away the rest of the sand. Breathing hard, he pulled at the sand and with each movement he began to see a new piece of the puzzle. The item was brass. It made him work harder. In two minutes he removed enough sand that he was able to dig his fingers in underneath. Sam pulled hard. Whatever it was he’d found held under the suction of sand compressed by hundreds of years. But then it started to move. Sam pulled harder and in a moment the entire thing broke free and Sam fell backward.
He scraped the remaining sand free of the brass item. It was the ship’s bell. There was a small engraving at the top of the bell. Sam felt his heart lurch into a gallop. He held his breath as he blew the remaining sand that filled the tiny gap of the engraving and then stared at the Bell.
His lips then curled into a winning smile, because the name on the centuries-old engraving was still clearly visible — Emerald Star.
Chapter Forty-Six
Sam switched his flashlight on and climbed down. The wooden ladder creaked under his weight, but the wood was otherwise very well preserved. At ten feet down, he reached the main entrance cabin. It was shaped like a small semi-circle with an empty weapons rack at the end. The skeletal remains of a man lay on the ground in front of him. Through the hollowed ribcage, a steel-tipped spear still pointed to the stars.
He turned his flashlight away. It was obvious how the man had died and he had no morbid desire to study him further. To a certain extent, he figured the guy who had landed on the spear received a far kinder death than those who had survived long enough to become entombed by the sand.
Tom carefully tested his weight on the ladder above. “Do you think it will hold my weight?”
“Yeah, should do. Just watch the spear at the bottom.”
Sam felt the structural beams that supported the deck above. They’d held the weight of many tons of sand for a little over three and a half centuries. He ran his hand over the first four he found. They were made out of some sort of red hardwood. A dendrologist might have told him the wood had come from Lebanon Cedar — the most prolific hardwood used in ship building throughout the Mediterranean until the eighteenth century, when overcutting reduced it to extinction — and that the arid environment had allowed it to maintain its strength after all these years. Without the specialist knowledge, Sam felt a healthy fear for the stability of the old vessel.
He took another step. The floor creaked and he turned to Tom. “On second thoughts, you might want to wait here. There’s no way of telling how safe the wood is after all these years. No reason to put both our lives in danger.”
Tom nodded. “I’m here if you need me.”
Sam continued deeper into the main cargo hold. He was surprised to see the ship, which had been so well preserved inside, didn’t seem to have any other skeletons. He dropped down to the lower level that housed the now dry bilge. He flashed his light around the deck, but it was empty of what he was after.
Sam retraced his steps to the main deck and then headed aft. At the very back he found a step up into the aft castle and Captain’s quarters. He climbed the stairs and entered the room. Sam flicked his light across the room. His eyes fixed on what he saw in front of him and he inhaled sharply.
A large navigation, come dining table, took up the vast majority of the captain’s private quarters. It was an aft cabin from the glory days of shipbuilding, when the privileged class ruled the world. It was big enough to have entertained eight or more persons at one time. The table had been intricately carved out of mahogany, and in the middle of it, still sitting at the table were the skeletal remains of one man. Facing directly at the human skull was a very different one — a golden skull.