Short by Steven Becker

Author:Steven Becker
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-06-10T16:00:00+00:00

***

Mac’s stomach had settled, but he was still thankful for the calm winds. Whereas yesterday the seas had been a wind-driven three foot chop, today the water was glassy smooth. They had been running for ten minutes when Wood pulled back on the throttle and slowed the boat. Mac knew the routine to find the trench without a GPS, and watched the Wood as he lined the green number two marker up with the Bullard Bar tower and followed the line until he was past both markers. He continued on the same compass course for another few minutes before checking the depth finder. The grey lines on the screen suddenly shot downward as the transducer mounted on the hull saw the trench, and that was that.

Mac didn’t have to wait for Wood to tell him what to do. He went to the bow and tossed the anchor, the line slid out through his hands as the boat backed away. Conditions like this didn’t call for much scope in the line, but Mac stayed conservative and always let out extra. He tied the line off to a cleat, and the men silently assembled their dive gear. Mac was first into the water. Wood followed close behind with the spear shaft and a Hawaiian sling in his hand. They both finned toward the anchor, checking to make sure that it was secure before looking around. Visibility was close to 40 feet this morning, and both walls of the trench were within sight.

Mac could see several test sensors and followed the wires from the sensors to the large box he had seen yesterday. He looked over at Wood who was examining one of the sensors, removed the dive knife strapped to his thigh and smacked the back of the tank. Wood heard the signal, set down the cylinder and swam over to Mac and the box. They exchanged an unsure glance and, needing to communicate, Mac gave Wood the thumbs up signal to ascend.

They broke the surface and inflated their BCs. “What do you make of it?” Mac asked.

“You’re right. Hydrophones and a receiver, don’t know …”

Wood was cut off by the scream of an engine sounding like it was coming at them. Mac looked around but with his head at surface level, he could barely see above the small waves. “Boat coming.”

“Think we better get out of the water, just in case your friends have come back. We can get a better look from up there anyway.”

Mac finned hard towards the skiff, Wood following behind him. The boat was too light and small to allow them to climb on with full gear, so they eased out of their inflated BC’s while still in the water, clipping them off to the anchor line. The gear bobbed on the surface, waiting to be retrieved, while they hurriedly swam toward the back of the boat and climbed over the transom. Mac stood, with his extra six feet of vantage above the water, he shielded his eyes from the sun and located the boat.

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