Abaco Gold Read online

  Copyright © 2001, 2002, 2013 by Patrick Mansell

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in whole or in part, in any form or by any means, without the express written permission of the publisher.

  For information contact:

  Bimini Twist Adventures, Inc.

  2911 N.W. 27th Ave.

  Boca Raton, FL 33434

  ISBN 978-0-983687917

  Library of Congress Card No. 00-193604

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Third Edition

  One

  Maggie

  Casey’s blood curdling scream could be heard by no one. She was terrified beyond anything she had ever experienced but her exclamation only resulted in a giant burst of bubbles through her regulator. She was sixty feet below the surface and had no weapon, not even a dive knife. P.J. had been watching her since she landed in Abaco two days earlier and he was watching her now. He saw an opportunity and went for it. Using strong legs developed through years of high school football training, he kicked with all his strength and placed himself between the frightened young girl and the six foot nurse shark. He was determined to make himself a hero in the eyes of the girl of his dreams, in spite of the knowledge that nurse sharks are practically harmless. This one was so docile it even had a name. The locals called her Maggie.

  He waved his arms in a grand display until the shark glided away. He then took Casey by the hand and gently led her to the surface. He held her down against her urge to shoot straight up. It all made him look so cool and brave. A minute later, when they were at the surface and swimming freely toward the boat, P.J. enjoyed the moment while Casey continued to lean on him for protection.

  Gaffer was rigging baits aboard Bimini Twist, drifting around, waiting for the group to return. When he saw his brother and Casey coming toward the boat he placed the throttles into gear and eased over to where they were swimming. Casey was first to climb the ladder. She released her weight belt and placed it on the swim platform. She then stepped up, one, two, three steps and she was standing at the stern of the boat. She was breathing hard and appeared very pale. P.J. caught Gaffer’s attention and motioned for him to say nothing. He climbed aboard and, in his giant fins, walked awkwardly to Casey who was crying and shaking at the center console. He placed his arms around her and she held him tightly. Gaffer looked puzzled.

  “We were almost attacked by a giant mako,” said P.J. He looked over Casey’s shoulder and gave his brother a wink.

  “Is that so?” asked Gaffer wryly.

  “A giant,” responded Casey. “And P.J. was so brave. He placed himself between me and the danger and then chased the killer away. He’s the bravest person I have ever seen. I have never been so terrified in my life.” She held him closer as P.J. soaked it all up.

  When Casey had calmed down, she extracted herself from P.J.’s arms and moved to the bow where she could rinse with fresh water and towel off. Gaffer turned to P.J. and commented, “Maggie?”

  “Yup,” grinned P.J.

  “Way to go, James Bond,” laughed Gaffer. Then, loud enough to be heard in the bow he asked, “What about Mom and Dad?”

  “I’ll go,” said P.J. “They have no weapons and they might be in danger.”

  Casey came to where P.J. was leaning on the transom. “What are you doing? There’s a shark down there.”

  “My parents are down there and I can’t leave them alone. They could be in danger.”

  Gaffer turned his head away and rolled his eyes. As usual, P.J. was milking this thing for all it was worth. “Are you ready to go?” he asked.

  “No, I need a weapon. Quick, hand me the Hawaiian sling.”

  “Sure.” said Gaffer. “Let me just get that weapon for you. Wouldn’t want you to encounter that killer again and not be prepared.”

  Gaffer scrounged around the storage compartment until he came up with a spear shaft. He could not find the sling, but who would know? “Here you go,” he said. “Here’s your Hawaiian sling.”

  P.J. shrugged and took the spear. Casey moved over to him and gave him another hug. “You be careful. There’s danger down there and I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  P.J. held Casey away and said dramatically, “Look, my parents are alone down there with that shark. They need me.” He then placed the regulator in his mouth and stepped off the boat.

  When P.J. splashed through the surface Gaffer turned to Casey. “He’s a brave one,” he said.

  “Sure,” said Casey, “but I heard what you two were saying. And I know a nurse shark is no mako!”

  “But you looked so upset and scared. You were crying,” said Gaffer.

  “I didn’t know until I heard you talking about Maggie. By the way, I’ve heard of her. She’s the local pet. Your brother is trying to stretch that thing, isn’t he.”

  “Well, he likes you and wants to impress you. You can’t blame him for trying.”

  “No, he’s cute. It’s kind of fun to watch him fall all over himself, tall, handsome, awkward.”

  Gaffer looked a little left out. Casey noticed it and quickly declared, “I also think you’re gorgeous with your curly dark hair and I’d give anything to have eyes the color of sky blue like yours. You and your brother are quite a pair. But you’re fifteen and he’s seventeen and I’m twenty, and I have a boyfriend back in Atlanta. I like your company and I hope we can be friends. You seem to enjoy your time here, fishing and diving.”

  “We love it,” said Gaffer. He felt better for Casey’s explanation and flattery. “Me and my dad like fishing a lot and P.J. likes to dive. Sometimes we just like to ride around in the boat. If that sounds good to you, I am sure you’re welcome to come any time.”

  “Thank’s, Gaffer. It sounds like a lot of fun. Are you sure it’s OK?”

  “Positive. In fact you’ll be good company for my mother. She says she lives in a locker room with her three men. She’d welcome you.”

  “Can you teach me how to fish?”

  “There’s a lot to it but I might be able to show you a thing or two.”

  Five minutes later Lisa Carson’s head broke through the surface followed by Max. A few minutes after that P.J. cleared the surface facing in the opposite direction with his spear in his hand. Lisa placed her weight belt on the dive platform and wiggled out of her buoyancy compensator, the air vest divers refer to by the initials B.C. When she climbed the ladder, Max placed his weight belt on the platform and handed his B.C. to Gaffer. P.J. continued his vigil against the nurse shark. But the story was out. Not knowing that Casey knew everything, P.J. looked very serious and vigilant as he ascended the ladder, looking back and forth to protect the boat against shark attack.

  As P.J. placed his spear on the deck and began to shed his weight belt and tank, Gaffer jumped over the side. He was followed closely by Casey. As she cleared the gunwale, P.J. could hear her say, “You’re busted, James Bond,” as she splashed into the clear blue Bahamas ocean.

  Two

  The Discovery

  While Gaffer secured Bimini Twist, the four divers began hauling their gear up to the Carson’s room at the Great Abaco Beach Resort. The tanks were stored in the Boat Harbour Marina for refilling, while the soaking wet dive bags and weight belts were carried off. After a long day of diving, the boat was covered in dried salt and was badly in need of a fresh water rinsing. Gaffer was happy to do the boat cleaning chores and leave the gear cleanup to the rest of the family.

  On the way to their room Max said to P.J., “Casey has been out with us all day. I think it’s time for her to let her parents know she’s back. Take her to her room, th
en hurry back here and help us get this stuff cleaned up. We want to be ready to go to dinner in an hour.”

  P.J. was happy to spend the time with Casey, so he rushed her down the sandy path and through the small tropical garden toward her family’s room. In his own room Max picked up his buoyancy compensator and lifted the velcro flap on the pocket. He retrieved two pieces of flat, black metal and held them under the kitchen light. He turned them over and tried to rub off the dried tarnish. The stubborn stain would not budge but he could feel that the disks had contour lines on both sides. He felt certain that he had found rare coins.

  “Honey,” he said, “it’s difficult to say for certain, but I believe I have found some coins on that dive. And the way they look means they could be from any period. I don’t think they are modern.”

  “Let me see,” said Lisa. “How did you find them and what makes you think they are anything but modern coins?”

  Max handed one of the coins to his wife and kept the other one. “You almost never see a coin sitting out in the open to just be picked up off the bottom. These were far up under a ledge. I had my light trained on this one spot thinking I might get a decent picture of the school of silver sides. Then I saw one of these and then the other.”

  “What makes you think they’re artifacts? Why can’t they just be silver dollars or quarters?”

  “Because if you look real close, you’ll see that they are not perfectly round. At several points around the rims there are flat areas. That could be a lead to a lot of different countries but most probably not U.S. or Caribbean.”

  “I see what you mean,” said Lisa. “What’s your best guess?”

  “The route through here was at one time heavily traveled by Spanish galleons. Sometimes the French came through here and quite often the English.”

  “So how are you going to find out?”

  “It starts by cleaning them up so we can see what’s inscribed on them. I don’t have any of the necessary chemicals for that here. Everything I have is too abrasive and would damage the metal. They’ll have to go to Jenny James over at the University of Miami. She can identify them in no time at all. I’ll express it to her overnight and have an answer the day after tomorrow.”

  “Wait ‘til the boys hear about your discovery. They’ll spend the whole rest of their vacation on and around that reef.”

  “These coins may be just the tip of the iceberg. I’ve seen a lot of evidence that there might be a shipwreck in the area,” said Max. “How about we don’t tell anyone just yet. If it’s worth something, I’d like to register it in Nassau as an archaeological site. If I can do that, the government of the Bahamas will provide protection for the artifacts. Then there can be a controlled excavation. If the treasure salvers hear about it they’ll be excavating with dynamite.”

  “Do you really think it can be that important?” asked Lisa. “What makes you think so?”

  “I have no way of knowing yet for sure. I’ve seen bottles in several of the local bars just sitting on the shelves as decorations. I am certain some of them are from the sixteenth century. Also, when we were diving I found a branch sticking out of a hole in the reef that I believe is die wood from Honduras. That’s a product that the early galleons used to carry back to Spain. If that’s what it is, that’s pretty strong evidence.”

  “So what are you going to do?”

  “Let’s see what Jenny says. She is part of the fraternity of archaeologists who know the importance of keeping quiet. If she says it’s something, then we’ll decide what to do. Meanwhile, I’m starving. Why don’t you start getting ready for dinner while I go help Gaffer finish cleaning the boat. We have reservations at Oliver’s in an hour. I’ll stop by Casey’s room on the way and pick up P.J.”

  Max started out the door and walked right into Gaffer. “Are you already finished with the boat?” he asked.

  “It’s ready to go. I filled the oil tanks and we have over eighty gallons of gas for tomorrow.”

  “Do you know which room is Casey’s? I want to get P.J. back here so he can get ready for dinner.”

  “I’ll get him,” said Gaffer. “Can I invite Casey to go with us?”

  “Sure, but tell her we have to be at the restaurant in an hour and not to be late.”

  Gaffer was down the path in an instant as Max turned back into the room. Five minutes later both boys returned all excited that the beautiful Casey would be joining them that evening.

  The conversation around the dinner table was animated as the boys were on their best behavior for Casey. Lisa was just glad they were using their best manners and Max was happy to be eating.

  “Mrs. Carson, do you fish with Gaffer and your husband?” asked Casey.

  “Not ever! Between the bait and the rocking boat and the fish blood, it is definitely not my sport. I’ll be going to town tomorrow while Max and Gaffer go fishing. Would you like to come with me?”

  “Thank you,” said Casey , “but I’d like to try the fishing if that’s all right with the guys.” “OK by me,” said Gaffer. “OK with you, Dad?”

  “Of course,” said Max. “We’re going yellow-tailing, if that’s OK with everybody.”

  “Are they very big?” asked Casey. “I’d like to catch something really big.”

  “Oh they’re huge,” said Gaffer. “Sometimes they get four or five pounds. I think the world record is about nine.” He was kidding and Casey looked puzzled. “I’m just putting you on. We use real light tackle for yellow tails. They’re just small snappers but they’re fun to catch and they taste excellent. If you’re interested in big game we can also rig for trolling and see what happens. Is that OK, Dad?”

  “I promised a bunch of people some tails. We’ll need about twenty before we can go trolling.”

  “That’s fine,” said Gaffer. “If Casey and P.J. go with us, we’ll have twenty yellow tails in no time. Then I’ll rig us for some dolphins and give Casey a chance to catch a big one.” He turned to Casey and asked, “How does that sound?”

  “Sounds excellent. What time do we leave?”

  “P.J. will stop by for you at 8 AM. Can you be ready?”

  “I’m psyched,” said Casey. “Would you believe I have never caught a fish in my life. Not even a trout or a bass.”

  “Honey, would you like to join us?” Max asked Lisa. “The weather forecast is for perfect conditions. It’ll be very calm. What do you say?”

  “I have a few errands to run tomorrow. Besides, I feel like slowing down a little. You guys have fun and I’ll cook up the fish when you get back.”

  “So what if we don’t catch any fish?” asked Casey.

  Gaffer answered, “That’s been known to happen. We go out plenty and get skunked. But don’t worry, we’ll take it as it comes. We know a lot about what we’re doing and we know our way around this territory. Don’t worry too much. We’ll get those lines wiggling.”

  “You talk so funny, Gaffer,” said Casey. “Where do you get that stuff?”

  “Huh? I talk funny? Nobody ever told me that.”

  Lisa laughed. It was P.J.’s turn to roll his eyes and Max ignored it all as he dug into his grilled wahoo. The dinner was excellent and Casey’s presence added just the right touch, keeping the talk alive and the atmosphere pleasantly charged.

  On the way back to the motel Casey walked between P.J. and Gaffer. She was a delight to be with. She looked great, she was sweet and kind and her perfume was driving the boys crazy. Lisa could see that her sons were smitten by this little beauty from Atlanta.

  Three

  Light Tackle Adventure

  The sun was well over the horizon and the scattered clouds and gentle breeze signaled a glorious day had arrived. Gaffer showed Casey how to maneuver the boat around, how to read the depth finder to see the bottom and select a spot for fishing. She was attentive and seemed interested. He lost her when he opened the box of frozen chum and dropped it in the bag to be tossed overboard to attract the snappers. When the smelly chum oozed through his f
ingers and down onto the deck he thought nothing of it. He looked around to see Casey was engaged in conversation with P.J. at the opposite gunwale. He had no honest conception that some people might think oozing chum would appear disgusting. He grabbed a bucket of seawater and washed his hands and rinsed down the deck.

  Max was tying small gold hooks onto the lines of their lightest fishing outfits, while Gaffer filled a two quart plastic bowl with small strips of squid and whole silver sides. The chum was running in the current off the stern of the boat and the yellow tails and ballyhoo had already begun to feed. Gaffer baited a hook for Casey and showed her how to set the bait in the chum slick and let out line. She got the hang of it quickly and soon was enjoying the sport. P.J. rarely touched a fishing rod, but when he did his luck was often good. If Casey would fish, he would fish, and pretty soon there were four lines out with hooks floating in the slick.

  Gaffer was first to hook up and within a very few minutes he had the first keeper of the day, a nice fat yellow tail. Into the fish box it went and his line was back in the water in no time. He hooked up again and had two tails in the boat before anybody else had any. Casey got a hit but was too slow to react and lost it. Gaffer told her to reel in so he could bait her hook again. P.J. got a hit, his reactions were good and he brought a queen trigger to the boat. Max told him to hold it off for a minute and he would let it go. As P.J. began lifting the fish over the gunwale it wiggled loose from the hook and fell back into the sea.

  Max was beginning to fret. Everybody had hooked up at least once, Gaffer had two in the box and he had nothing. He hated appearing like such an amateur around two real amateurs. He never minded when Gaffer beat him because Gaffer was really good. But P.J. and the girl should never get ahead of him. He surmised that something had gotten his bait without his knowing it and, when he reeled in his empty hook, he saw that his hunch was correct. He quickly baited up and placed his hook back in the chum slick. Gaffer caught another tail, P.J. landed one and then it was Max’s turn. It was no trophy, but it was a keeper and he began to stop worrying.