“You’re going to need these. You know you will,” my father said as he threw a bunch of diving equipment down on the boat’s deck. The day was humid, and the heat was almost unbearable—a perfect day for me to learn how to dive.
“Trust me, I know,” I shouted back at him with a grin. I pulled the metal oxygen tanks towards me and strapped them to my back. With the tanks securely in place, I adjusted the regulator and took in a deep breath, the rush of compressed air filling my lungs. I reached over and grabbed the rubbery sole of a diving fin. My foot flinched when it slid into the fin ; it felt like an oven.
“Dump ’em in the water first!” my dad yelled at me.
“Little late for that,” I muttered, dunking the second fin into the water. With a little struggle, I finally got my foot into the second fin.I grabbed my mask and stretched it over my head.
“Alright, remember your training,” he reminded me in a steady and reassuring tone. After looking over my equipment one last time I gave my dad a thumbs up, showing him I was ready. He returned the gesture, signaling for me to take the plunge.
I felt relieved as the brisk water engulfed me. As I surfaced, I took my mouthpiece out and took a deep breath. The familiar scent of saltwater filled me with anticipation. I heard the splash of my father jumping in after me. He gave me the signal, and we both dived underneath the surface.
As the bubbles slowly cleared, I began to peer beneath me. Adrenaline ran through me as I saw a boat resting on the ocean floor. Did my dad know this was here? When my dad turned his head in my direction, I gave him a confused look. He merely shrugged his shoulders, and began swimming towards the unknown vessel—I followed.
As we approached her stern, its details became more apparent. Barnacles and corals adorned its weathered surface. Tiny fish darted in and out of small cracks in the fiberglass that lines the ship’s side. The boat looked to be thirty feet at maximum. We began swimming around the ship, taking in every detail.
We reached the bow of the sunken vessel. There was an anchor dug into the sand right off the boat. I couldn’t help but feel more curious with each minute that passed swimming next to the ship. What was its story? How did it get here? Who abandoned it?
As we circled back towards the ship’s stern, I spotted an opening leading into the ship’s interior. It was pitch black. My dad looked over at me and then into the foreboding hole. He reached into a pocket of his wetsuit and pulled out a flashlight. My hands shook with excitement and fear as he handed me the flashlight. My dad followed the pass with an encouraging nod, a silent permission to explore further.
I turned the flashlight on and turned it towards the hole; I couldn’t make out what was inside. Taking a steadying breath, I mustered my courage and inched closer to the dark entrance. With the flashlight illuminating the way, I ventured into the unknown.
There was floating debris everywhere. I pushed bits of fiberglass out of the way and ventured deeper into the ship. The ship held an eerie beauty. Bits of light crept in from the holes in the hull. The cabin was small, but it had hundreds of areas to explore. I swung the flashlight back and forth uncovering its hidden beauty. There were cushions for a bed towards the bow and a tiny head to the stern. A compact but functional galley was nestled to one side, and a table for dining rested on the other. I peered towards the bow and noticed some drawers under the cushions. “What could be in them?” I thought to myself.
I began swimming over, and with each movement, the anticipation built. Once I finally reached the cabinets, I swung one open. There laid a briefcase. I gasped, almost spitting out my mouthpiece. I grabbed the briefcase; I knew opening it underwater could ruin its contents. I carefully returned to the opening in the ship’s hull with a renewed sense of urgency. The briefcase clutched securely in my hand; I kicked my way through the floating debris.
As I emerged into open water, I looked at my father, who had patiently waited for me and pointed to the briefcase. We ascended towards the surface. My hands reached for the ladder hanging from the boat we had left. I grabbed the cool metal rungs and flung myself onto the boat. My father joined me moments later, the anticipation etched on his face.
I placed the briefcase down on the boat deck. Before my father had time to take his flippers off, I was opening the case. With careful hands, I undid the latches and slowly lifted the top. Inside was a yellow folder, almost untouched.
We both looked at each other.
“What are you waiting for? open it!” My father said eagerly.
I flipped open the folder. Facing me was a map. My fathers face looked puzzled. On the map was a circle marking a small island only a couple miles from where we were. I looked over at my dad.
“I know where we are headed next,” I told him.