Marathon Gold

By Chris James

Chapter Eight

Diving with a snorkel opened up a whole new world to Jimmy's eyes. Even though Clark's inlet was shallow there were still grasses and pieces of coral that had drifted in from the sea. The number of fish was amazing, Jimmy had never considered how numerous or colorful they could be in this environment.

But even here some of those fish were to be avoided, especially the barracuda. The mouth on one of those things was loaded with teeth and they were damn aggressive if disturbed. But if he just swam along the surface, head down in the water and allowed the fins to propel him along it was a beautiful sight.

Gene swam beside him, diving to the bottom occasionally to pick something up. He joked about only being able to see half of what Jimmy could and was told in return that wouldn't matter if it was gold. They found an old coffee cup in the sand by the end of the dock and a fishing pole. Clark had laughed when Jimmy laid them up on the dock, saying he had dropped both items some years ago.

The waters of the inlet were calm as the waves never reached this far inside. Jimmy was all for trying their luck seaside but then they would have to sail out there.

"So, you think you're ready?" Clark asked.

"Sailing, yes," Gene replied. "The snorkeling will just take practice."

"Agreed," Clark said. "Go fetch that box on the back porch."

Jimmy dropped his fins and trotted up to the porch where a cardboard box sat on the steps. It wasn't very heavy, just bulky, but he carried it back down to the dock. Clark pulled out two bright orange inflatable life vests; Jimmy had seen them before on Hal's boat. But there were several other items of interest.

"Your safety equipment is very important so be sure and stow these things in the compartment under the rear seat in the boat. It makes sense that you ought to wear the vests when sailing in case the dinghy goes over. Not that you'll do that intentionally, but the wind is a lot trickier out there.

"This is a flare pistol. If you should get in trouble and need help just hold it over your head and pull the trigger." And he showed them how to load it.

"For now, if one of you is in the water the other should remain onboard. Even anchors fail and you don't want to surface and find the boat drifting half a mile away. It also allows one of you to keep watch for other boats. This last item is a diver's buoy; it warns other boats that someone is underwater nearby."

"So where is the bag I'm supposed to fill with all this gold we're going to find?" Jimmy asked.

Clark shook his head. "I'm afraid you won't need that for a long, long time. The first thing you need to do is perform a reconnaissance mission. The reef is pretty unfamiliar territory and you need to study its shape. I have a chart of the reef, but it's almost forty years old. Sombrero Reef as I recall seems to run in channels of coral aligned perpendicular to the shore. That coffee can is filled with tags that you can affix to the reef to show where you've been. That will make each successive dive a lot easier."

"You're pretty organized," Gene said.

"I've been thinking about doing this for twenty years so forgive me if I try and run the operation."

"No... that's great, we appreciate the help. We wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you," Jimmy said.

"Thank you," Clark said. "I have just one last request, and then I think you ought to sail out to the reef, look around and come back."

"Cool," Gene said with a grin. "You just want to see if we can sail out there and back."

"Yes, sailing is half the mission. You've both seen the bell I have on the porch. If I ring it you need to return to the dock. That means climb out of the water and sail back in a timely fashion."

"Why would you ring the bell?" Jimmy asked.

"I have a radio and can see the horizon from the porch. You won't know the weather is changing unless you pay attention and I imagine your focus will be on the reef. The marine radio reports storms and wind velocity, I don't want you out there if something bad comes along."

"Aye, aye, Admiral," Jimmy said. "You really are in command of this mission."

They donned the life vests and stowed the other gear under the seat. It was already two o'clock in the afternoon and Clark told them not to stay out more than three hours. The wind usually shifted in the early evening and it would be hard for them to make the inlet with an offshore breeze.

Clark stood on the end of the dock and watched Gene tack across the inlet. Smart boy, he had the angle of escape all figured out by now. Jimmy looked back over his shoulder and waved.

"He's really cool, I just wish he could come out here with us," Jimmy said.

"He knows this is our adventure. Besides we could be out here for weeks trying to find something, why waste his time," Gene said.

"You know he'll be sitting up there on the porch with his binoculars keeping an eye on us, he might as well come along."

"If we find something, and I sure hope we do, I think he ought to get a share," Gene said.

"Some of the gold?"

"Whatever we find, we owe him big time," Gene said.

They cut across the far side of the inlet and headed back towards the entrance in the breakwater. Gene had angled it so they were on a broad reach, the sail extended almost perpendicular to the dinghy. When they cleared the inlet he would move the tiller to port, allowing the boat to line up with the incoming waves so the water didn't broach over their sides.

Once they were away from shore Gene could jibe the sail and take them in a long curving loop out to the reef. The lighthouse was further southwest, set in amongst the most dangerous area of the coral formation. Closer in to the bight the coral began in about ten feet of water and never came closer than five feet to the surface.

Clark had shown them maps of the reef and discussed depth and the displacement of the boat. With the dagger board down the dinghy needed three feet of water under the keel, any less than that and they might find themselves snagged on the coral. It was Jimmy's job to sit along the side facing the back of the sail and mind the dagger board; he also had to control the lines running to the boom when they jibed.

Gene took them out dead center of the inlet and they both yelled with glee as they hit the open ocean. Even though the water was slightly choppy out here it felt wonderful to be out of the tiny inlet with miles of sailing room surrounding them. Gene adjusted the tiller and aimed them towards the lighthouse.

"We'll have to come back at that angle if the wind stays like this," Gene said, pointing east.

"So we can sail along the shore but have to reach way out there before we can get back?" Jimmy asked.

"Yeah, makes you appreciate a motor, doesn't it?" Gene said. "It's like you have to sail a mile and a half to go a mile."

"What if you guess the angle wrong?"

"Don't start that on me already, we'd be here all afternoon."

"The reef ought to start about here," Jimmy said. "All this mapping stuff out is going to be a pain in the ass."

"I understand Clark's point, we could be searching the same stretch of reef without even knowing it if we aren't careful."

"I just wish I knew what we need to look for down there."

"It sure won't be Caesar's dead body. I'm sure he was fish food right away. I'd be surprised if there is anything of those boats left either. Wood rots pretty quick underwater and it has been over a hundred years," Gene said.

Jimmy stared down at the water, noticing the colors change beneath the surface as they sailed over the reef. The image wasn't at all clear, but a sandy bottom gave back one reflection and the coral another. So that's how Oliver had done it.

They spent an hour tacking back and forth across the area between the shore and the reef, the area they were both sure that Michael had been describing in the journal. If Gene could have just turned hard to starboard they would be able to make the inlet, but not in the wind today.

"It's got to be around here somewhere," Gene said.

"I agree," Jimmy replied. "So which of us dives first?"

"You may have the first go at it. If we start this close to shore it's probably only about twenty feet. How do you feel about swimming that deep?"

"Don't know, I can hold my breath a good while," Jimmy said.

"I think the first thing we'll discover is that you have to get right on top of something before you can see what it is down there. Coral is nasty sharp too."

"My father has some gloves I can wear; I'll just have to be careful with the rest of me. What about light, will we need a flashlight down there?"

"I don't think that will be necessary. If you can see the bottom then enough sunlight gets down there to see what you're doing," Gene said.

Jimmy grinned. "All I need is enough light to see the glint off that gold if I touch it."

Gene laughed. "There ya go... what an optimist."

Jimmy slid under the boom as they jibed, heading back east to set up their reentry to the inlet. They missed the first time as the current carried them short of the opening by about two hundred yards. Gene went around again, this time changing the angle and giving himself a little more room to play. The current pushed on them again, but Gene was reaching far enough west to turn them right in through the opening in the breakwater. Ten minutes later they were tied to the dock.

Clark walked down from the porch and congratulated them for a job well done. They were now real salt water sailors. From the time he was little Jimmy had wanted to sail in a large ship like the one in Two Years Before the Mast. That was the first book about sailing ships that rang true in his mind.

A sailor's life was hard and often cruel, far different than the romantic adventures in most books. A movie about the famous American naval hero, John Paul Jones, had played at the Marathon Theatre the year before and Jimmy had seen it three times. It was filled with talk... talk... talk and in places so boring he could scream. But then the film would switch to sailing scenes, glorious battles with cannon roaring, Jimmy was in heaven.

Those days were gone but even sailing about in a little dinghy was on the edge of adventure, the best kind of fantasy. Diving on the reef would bring a whole new dimension into play. Jimmy wasn't sure how long he could stay underwater and that caused him some concern.

"What are you doing?" Gene asked.

Jimmy gasped out his lung full of air. "Holding my breath, I need to see how long I can do it."

"You were turning red, stop that."

"If I can't stay underwater for more than a couple of minutes what good is it? It takes time to swim down to the bottom and then I'll have to figure out where I am and start looking at things. I'm not sure this snorkeling stuff is gonna work for us."

They were on the dock at McNeil's again, 'doin stuff' as Gene liked to call it. Masturbation was fun but now it involved talking as well. Somehow sitting there with their shorts pulled down was conducive to sharing their thoughts, especially since they had learned to sail.

"I'll go down first if you're worried about it," Gene offered.

"It's not that. Once we start I want to see progress, you know? I doubt either of us can dive for more than a few times before we need to rest. Yesterday I held my breath for almost three minutes, but when I tried doin it again I didn't last half that."

"You need to relax, it will all work out. The way I look at it this is supposed to be fun. Might as well enjoy the swim because we may end up with nothing."

"Oh it's there... I know the gold is there. We're gonna find it and become rich and famous," Jimmy said.

"You think?" Gene laughed. "I keep thinking I'll dive down there and come face to face with some big old shark."

"Big sharks don't hang out in the reef, you know that," Jimmy said.

"Okay, a barracuda then... a really big one."

"You already got a big one," Jimmy snickered, and they went back to stroking themselves.

Hal called Jimmy mid-week and asked him to come back to work Thursday on through the weekend. Even the lure of pirate lore could not bring the tourists out in the heat of August. Only having to work a few days per week appealed to Jimmy, especially since the treasure hunting was about to begin.

They made two more ventures out to the reef before they figured it was time to dive. The trick to snorkeling was fairly simple, don't breath underwater and blow out once you surfaced. Just kicking along the surface of the inlet was fairly simple until they tried going for distance underwater. Jimmy didn't feel so bad after that, he could travel a good hundred feet or so.

It seemed reasonable that just traveling on the surface above the reef would not allow them to see the detail of any debris on the bottom. But Clark had provided them with a very special bucket to help preview their dive, it had a glass bottom.

"You might use this to take a look before you go down in a particular area. The man in the boat can watch the diver too, keep you from getting bored," Clark said. "I think if you do a surface reconnaissance and then dive you'll see a whole lot more each time you go out."

"This is gonna take weeks, isn't it?" Gene asked.

"No, it could take years. But each step you take is progress," Clark said. "Go out in the morning and come back for lunch, relax and go out again if you want."

The boys had made great progress, he thought. Maybe he was living out his sense of adventure vicariously through them, but they were willing partners in the venture. As to finding any gold that would be a real kick in the pants, but it seemed doubtful after all these many years... decades. Still, the world was full of surprises, it made life grand.

Jimmy's weekend on the Marathon Queen was instructive. They rode out a quick summer thunderstorm that had blown down from the mainland. Hal didn't like having a boat full of customers sitting out a storm, but it had developed after they were far out past the lighthouse. It lasted an hour, tossed them around a bit and then the sun came out once again.

There were a few sick people, a small mess to clean up and then fishing resumed. Jimmy's thoughts were focused on Monday's dive as he untangled the lines one man had hopelessly snagged on the bottom.

"Maybe there's one of those pirate ships you told us about down there, wouldn't that be a kick?" The man said.

"It's more likely a bit of the reef you hooked onto," Jimmy replied. "Happens all the time when we're over here."

"How do you know that?"

"I've seen a map," Jimmy said, and then regretted saying that. Nelson was right there assisting another customer.

"What map?" He immediately asked.

"Of the reef, Nelson. It's an old nautical map made when the lighthouse was built."

"Why do you need the map?"

Jimmy figured it was best to tell a half truth rather than a total lie, so he explained that Gene had fixed the sailboat and that Clark was giving them lessons. Knowing the danger underwater was all part of the sailing plan, and that was all there was to that.

Nelson smiled. "No treasure hunting?"

Jimmy laughed. "What treasure? If you listen to my little stories you'll know all that stuff was hundreds of years ago. I'm more worried about hitting the reef and killing us."

"Gene smart boy, you listen to him," Nelson said. "So you a sailor now?"

Jimmy grinned. "Hardly, it's a lot more complicated than I thought."

But so was the diving. Monday was bright and sunny as they took the dinghy out to the reef. Clark sat on his porch with the binoculars in hand and watched their progress. With this much sunlight piercing the water's depth he was pretty sure Jimmy would have a safe dive.

They dropped the anchor just as they reached the edge of the reef even though Clark had told them they were probably nowhere near the site where Michael dumped the chest.

"One hundred and some years, how fast do you think that reef has grown?" Clark asked.

"Wow, that would be impossible to tell," Gene replied. "How fast does coral grow?"

"Slow," Clark said. "Slow but steady. It grows on itself, each successive generation blooming on top. The remains of many shipwrecks are swallowed up and unrecognizable. But if you get lucky something may have escaped the growth and remain in the bare sand where you can see it."

"I thought everything would rot away?" Gene said.

"Some wood is pretty impervious to water damage, for instance a mast or some rigging. We don't know what was on those small boats Caesar had, a water jug would survive as would a brass cannon." Clark smiled. "Go look and then come back and tell me what you see."

Gene watched as Jimmy donned his flippers and spit in his mask to clear the glass. He was wearing the rubber coated gloves his father had surrendered, a little large but necessary. Jimmy slid over the side and hung on as he adjusted the mask and snorkel.

"Have fun, I'll be watching," Gene said, pushing the glass bottom bucket into the water.

Jimmy took some breaths and then put his face in the water. The coral formations rose out of the sand beneath him and stretched away into the murky distance. Clark had shown them pictures of the various types of coral and plant life that grew in the water around the Keys. The photos didn't do justice to the magnificent beauty of what lay before him.

Jimmy breathed through the snorkel and kicked his way across the formation. Much of the coral was dark and thriving with live grasses and fish, but here and there a brain coral, natural sponges... a wealth of nature.

The reef sloped away to the depths in the distance but beneath him it was only about ten feet down to the sandy bottom. Jimmy took a breath and jackknifed his body, plunging downwards and propelling himself to the bottom with the swim fins. He wanted to touch the reef, to see up close how it sat upon the sand.

He reached the bottom and felt along the edge of the coral, brushing away at the sand and discovering that the coral was under it as well. Of course, tides and time had brought sand in to cover portions of the reef. The coral might grow and anchor itself in one place but the sand was always shifting, swallowing up whatever might lay on the bottom.

Jimmy finally felt the urge for air and kicked his way back to the surface. His head broke water about thirty feet from the boat and he expelled the stale air out of the snorkel and took in a lungful of fresh. He resisted the urge to raise his head and plunged back down, trying to spot the exact place he had been before.

Clark was right; the reef seemed to run in furrows perpendicular to the shore. It had been organized by the current pushing the water against the beach in the distance. That same motion of the water moved the grasses and the sea fans he could see as if some invisible hand was pushing things to and fro.

Jimmy thought of the white tags he had in the pocket of his swim trunks and then looked around for a likely place to tie one. There, on the edge of a coral mound was a bright red piece of fire coral, it seemed a good place to start. He slid the loop of the string around a nub of the coral and pulled it tight. Not too hard, he told himself, don't break anything.

They had all agreed the numbered tags would dissolve over time leaving no trace of their search. Coral was such a fragile thing; it would be terrible to damage any of it. He needed air and kicked back to the surface. This time he raised his head after clearing the snorkel and gave Gene the thumbs up sign before heading down once again.

Jimmy had been at it about half an hour when he heard the distant sound of a motor, a dull throbbing noise far in the background. He looked up but couldn't see anything. The dinghy was about fifty feet away and he headed for it, surfacing beside the boat.

Gene was smiling down at him and took the mask and snorkel, helping Jimmy clamber aboard. The motor he had heard was a small fishing boat trolling along about a quarter mile away.

"How was it?" Gene asked.

"Great," Jimmy replied, leaning back against the side. "Whew, that can get tiring."

"Have some water," Gene said. "Are you going back down?"

Jimmy shook his head. "Thought you might like to give it a try."

"Oh yes," Gene said.

"Where's the diver's buoy, we ought to set that out," Jimmy said.

"Damn, I forgot."

"I could hear that guy's motor and realized we didn't put it out."

Gene took the buoy and dropped it over the side, tossing the small anchor away from the boat. Then he put on his fins and took up his mask. Jimmy handed over several of the tags and told him what he had been trying to do.

"No sense in using too many of these this close to shore, a hundred feet apart seems good enough," Jimmy said. "They stand out pretty clear because I tied mine to some obvious pieces of the coral."

Gene slid over the side and then disappeared. Jimmy pulled the line for the bucket which was floating beside the dinghy. He grasped the edges and looked down, shifting it around until he could see Gene reach the bottom. The bucket view was nothing like being down there.

Jimmy had lived on the island for years and never realized how amazing the reef was. Maybe he was too young to have gone down there before now; his father would never have allowed it. But he was fast approaching fourteen and his father was allowing him more freedom. First the motorcycle and now this, it made him feel positively grown up.

They took turns diving, moving the dinghy several times before they both felt hunger. By now the trip back into the inlet was less of an adventure, Gene had it all figured out. Clark met them on the dock, but he wasn't alone. For Jimmy it was a shock to see Nelson standing there.

"So you diving now too," Nelson called out as they tied up.

"It's beautiful out there," Jimmy said. "Why didn't you tell me all the cool things I was missing?"

"It was work to me, boy," Nelson said. "I just been asking Mr. Clark about his book."

"Ahh," Jimmy said, giving Clark a glance.

The old man smiled in return. "I told Nelson about the treasure Michael and the boys buried across the road."

"So why you not looking for it?" Nelson asked.

Jimmy laughed. "I could dig up the whole island and never find it. I think if it was possible that Mr. Clark would have discovered it for himself years ago."

"I gonna try," Nelson said.

"I don't know, Nelson. The Martin sisters might not like that," Jimmy said.

"I ask first, they like me. Gonna help?"

"I wouldn't know where to begin... do you?"

"Nelson seems to think he can figure it out," Clark said. "It has to be out beyond the lime trees somewhere."

"Yes, I dig some sand and look. Ladies get they share when I find it," Nelson said.

"I wish you a whole lot of luck," Jimmy said. "It just seems like too much work for me."

"I bring lots of help too. We find it."

With that Nelson walked back up the dock and around the house. Jimmy looked up at Clark and smiled.

"You sent him off on a wild goose chase, didn't you? He's never gonna find a thing."

"Maybe he will, but probably he won't. At least he won't be bothering us for a while," Clark said.

"That's good," Gene said.

"So tell me what you accomplished this morning," Clark said.

They took out the chart of the reef and approximated where Jimmy and Gene had placed tags. Considering the vast area of coral what they had covered so far seemed minuscule. It didn't matter, they had learned what it took to search methodically and that was what Clark wanted to see.

Evelyn had fixed them all a nice lunch. Having the boys around on a regular basis was good for Alfred and she enjoyed their company as well. Through the kitchen window she could hear snatches of their conversation and knew the boys were enjoying a grand adventure.

Alfred was a wonderful man; their association these past fifteen years had proven his worth as a kind and generous person. Her husband had been the Admiral's chief admirer, serving with him through the worst of the Pacific campaigns. And then there was Saipan.

Of all the naval engagements of the war this was by far the worst for both sides, and the Admiral had his ship blasted out from under him at the cost of hundreds of lives. Her husband, Chief Petty Officer Warren, had survived the battle thanks to Alfred. They had both been pulled from the oily waters and rushed to the sick bay aboard the USS California.

It had been Captain Clark then, but her husband never got to see that star pinned on Alfred's collar. She had come to him with praise for saving her husbands' life and shared her grief at his death from the wounds. They were such a comfort to one another, so much so that she never left the Admiral's side and he had taken her in like a member of the family.

It was awkward at first; the Admiral had children and a wife who suffered from terminal illness. But Evelyn immediately went to work on Mrs. Clark's care, giving the woman a rare quality of life all the way to the end. Alfred had come to accept his wife's death long before it happened, and no one expected Evelyn to leave when Alfred became a widower.

He shared such wonders with her, things that a small town girl from the Midwest could never imagine. She had read the journal Clark so valued and knew some day he would pursue what was revealed in it. Jimmy and Gene were the perfect partners for Alfred's little adventure, and they had brought meaning into the old man's life.

The second week of August was just as hot as the first and there were few customers for Hal's business. Jimmy and Gene sailed and dived, doubling and then tripling the area of the reef that was now surveyed and marked. Then they sat down with Clark to play a guessing game.

"Admiral... where do you think is the most likely spot for the gold to be?" Gene asked.

Clark laughed. "If I knew I would have told you."

"I mean, what's the most likely area?" Gene said.

"You boys getting bored with the task already?"

"No, sir. But the chart says there is almost ten square miles of reef out there," Jimmy added. "Don't you think it would help if we had more of a focus?"

Clark nodded. "All we have to guide us are Michael's words." He opened the book to the final pages and read them aloud. "Lord Almighty, there is a cove over there, let us make for it," Oliver yelled. "Hard a starboard, if you will."

Gene nodded. "It would depend upon the wind and the current. I could never sail into the inlet just by turning the rudder and heading straight for it."

Clark smiled. "Exactly, you have learned a valuable lesson. Nothing upon the sea is as easy as it seems. They were facing a storm, high winds and stronger current. It's too bad Michael didn't describe their approach any better."

"We've all missed something; they were real close to the beach," Jimmy said. "A musket shot away Michael wrote, how far would that be?"

"Hmm, two hundred yards on the outside," Clark replied.

"But the waves were tossing them about, the current must have been running fast because of the coming storm," Gene said. "And don't forget, some time passed between dumping the chest and their heading for the inlet."

Clark pulled the chart closer and placed his pencil on the opening to the inlet. "The breakwater wasn't there back then, it was truly a cove. But the bottom was higher on either side and they would still have to keep to the middle. That cutter would have a greater draft than your dinghy so... "

He put the pencil down on the chart and moved it southeast for about an inch and then back south. By the time he was done Clark had drawn an odd shaped area overlapping part of the reef.

"My best guess," Clark said. "Do you have any other ideas?"

Gene was thumbing through the pages looking for something. "Ahh, here it is. They were heading south and then jibed away from the pirates which left the wind on their port quarter. It does not say they were making for the shore. They were attempting to run back for the channel at the end of the island. So if the wind was to port and they were facing southeast they were heading straight for the middle of the reef."

"They didn't hit anything," Jimmy said.

"They wouldn't, the coral is lower on the east end," Clark said. "But then they started to hit some high spots and if we assume Gene's theory of their location that would put them right about here." He placed a finger on the chart.

"Lord, they were headed right for the ridge where the lighthouse sits now," Gene said.

"But Oliver yells that the reef ends so they must have cut across the corner of it... here," Jimmy said, placing a finger on the chart near Clark's.

Clark smiled. "Now we're getting somewhere."

Gene was reading on. "And here, it says the wind was at their backs, which would be from the east. They were running parallel to the shore, a musket shot away from the beach... "

Jimmy moved his finger parallel to the land and along the edge of the reef. Caesar's boats would have tried to aim ahead of the cutter. That was the mistake they made, it would take them right into the high ridges of the coral.

Clark put his pencil point down on the chart. "Caesar lost the first boat about here." He made an X and then drew a line across the reef. "It gets lower again, but then the cannon ball hits him about... here." And he drew another X.

"But the cutter wasn't on that line, was it? They were further in, say a hundred yards which would be about here," Jimmy said, and he laughed. The spot was dead center of Clark's roughly shaped square.

"Wow, look how close you were," Gene said.

"I was just guessing while your approach was much more scientific. But we now have two points of view and they agree with one another. Of course we could be completely wrong, but at least now you have a smaller area to search."

"Aww, why did you have to go and say that?" Jimmy groaned.

"You haven't wasted your time," Clark said. "If anything it was a most necessary training period. My little box contains a good deal of reef and it's a lot closer to the lighthouse. You'll have to be more careful now."

Gene nodded. "The dinghy is at the biggest risk, the coral is closer to the surface there. Maybe we should get a second anchor."

"No, that won't work. It will just snag itself in the coral and we'll damage the reef," Jimmy said. "I think we'll have to anchor along the edge like we have been and swim in to investigate."

Clark smiled. "Let's look at the positive side, it will make your trip back to the inlet a lot easier, the angle is almost perfect."

"Yeah, it is," Gene said. "We'll soon find out."

The weather soon set up a line of storms in the Caribbean and sent them north towards the Bahamas where they joined forces to become a tropical storm. The news was all over the radio and newspapers. This one might go for the southern tip of Florida and the people in the Keys held their breath.

It was the right time of year, the middle of the hurricane season, they were due for one. But the storm turned northwards and became Hurricane Cleo off the east coast of the southern states. The Keys received a large dose of rain cast off the edge of the storm, but that was all.

Rain meant there would be no fishing customers and that was exactly what Nelson wanted. He had shown up at Bea's front door, hat in hand and a big smile on his face.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Martin... how is you this fine day?"

Bea looked beyond where Nelson stood on her porch at the curtain of rain swamping her front yard.

"Nelson, have you lost your mind? It's raining cats and dogs out there," Bea said.

"No ma'am, Nelson got all his brains. But it be right time for gettin rich."

"Rich? Whatever do you mean, Nelson?"

Nelson gave her a big old grin. "You gots the time for me to explain?"

"I do... what kind of rich do you mean?" Bea asked, and showed Nelson into the kitchen.

Bea was the adventurous sister, Sammy more content with her sedate life. Nelson recited the directions as they were laid out in Michael's journal, but he didn't tell the ladies that Clark had given him the information.

"The man who bury this treasure never leave the swamps, he afraid Black Caesar's ghost gonna come kill him. So he tell his story to another who write down these things. The words come to me from Mama, wife's mother. She gots the second sight, says it all true and I should go dig. I have to ask, so here I be."

"It all sounds so delightfully adventurous," Bea said.

"It sounds silly to me," Sammy said. "So you want to fill the yard with holes?"

"No ma'am, we dig and fill holes back up... all sand, no see it," Nelson said.

"We? How many fellas you going to get involved in this?" Bea asked.

"Just me and two others, I pay them a share when we find it."

"Shares... so what do we get if you find this gold treasure?" Sammy laughed.

"You get one quarter share," Nelson said.

"One quarter... just for letting you dig in our sand pile?" Bea asked.

"Yes, ma'am... could be a million dollars down there."

"Okay, you got a deal," Bea said.

"Now wait a minute," Sammy said. "If the neighbors find out about this we'll have folks all over our property."

"I have the answer," Nelson said. "We plant trees. You buy trees from nursery on Pine Key, we dig and then plant. Grow you big forest of trees."

"See, Sammy, and when he's done we get more privacy in the bargain," Bea said.

"I know I'll live to regret this... but go on," Sammy said.

And so Nelson began to dig his holes, telling everyone who asked that he was just planting trees for the Martin sisters, and they believed him. All except Clark, Jimmy and Gene who knew the truth and thought it funny.