A Dangerous Dive
Biff and Li were up with the first rays of daylight. After a hurried
breakfast, they prepared to go ashore.
“Do you think it’s safe to leave the boat unguarded, Biff?” Li wanted to
know.
“No, I don’t. I know darn well that Perez Soto would like nothing better
than to find the _Easy Action_ with no one aboard and scuttle her.”
“What do we do then?”
“We take that chance,” Biff said grimly. “We’ve got to. Finding our
fathers is more important than all the yawls and all the cesium in the
world.”
Li smiled in agreement. “We’re going to be awfully wet when we get
ashore.”
The dinghy was still secreted behind beach brush. The yawl had no other.
“Couldn’t you kind of kick your way ashore, swimming on your back, Li?”
Biff asked.
“Sure, Biff. Why?”
“Well, here’s what you try to do. Jump overboard. Turn on your back.
I’ll hand you some dry shorts and sweat shirts. Hold them out of water
over your head and see if you can make shore that way.”
“I’ll try, Biff. But I don’t know. Getting through the surf isn’t going
to be easy. Probably get the clothes wet anyway.”
“We’ll try it. And if they do get wet, the sun will dry ’em fast.”
Li dived into the ocean. He plunged around like a porpoise for a few
moments, enjoying and getting the feel of the water. Then he turned on
his back and kicked to the side of the yawl. Biff handed down a bundle
of clothing, and Li propelled himself away from the boat with a powerful
thrust against its side.
Biff slung a pair of binoculars in a waterproof case around his neck and
slipped into the water.
Li’s progress was slow. His leg thrusts were those of an excellent
backstroke swimmer, but unable to use his arms, he couldn’t go very
fast. Biff stayed alongside him.
“I’m going ahead when we reach the shore breakers,” Biff called to Li.
“I’m taller than you. Maybe I can reach bottom, and take the clothes
from you before a wave rolls over you.”
It was a good plan. But the sea has a way of upsetting good plans, and
it did this time. Boys and clothes reached shore equally wet. They wrung
out their shorts and sweat shirts as best they could, donned them, and
headed up the southern slope of the Mauna Loa in the area called Kau.
They toiled upward, resting at regular intervals. It was hot, tiring
work. Their wet clothes clung to their bodies. Perspiration from the
effort kept their clothes damp. Even in the heat, Biff found himself
shivering convulsively.
“I’ve got a clammy feeling from these clothes. Guess that’s why I’m
shivering,” Biff said to his friend. He hoped it _was_ the damp
clothing, rather than fear for the safety of his father and Hanale
Mahenili.
By noon, the boys had climbed nearly three thousand feet.
“Let’s take a break,” Biff called.
“By me, fine. That was a tough climb,” Li answered.
Biff stretched out. Li remained seated.
“Let me have the glasses. Biff.”
Biff handed them over, shielded his eyes from the sun, and tried to
catch a catnap. He was just dozing off when he felt Li nudge him.
“Biff! Biff!” The excitement in Li’s voice brought Biff to a sitting
position in a hurry.
“What is it, Li?”
“Over there, see? About halfway between Ka Lae and that point to the
north—Kauna Point.”
“Yes. But how can I see anything without the glasses?”
Li unslung them from around his neck and handed them to Biff. “Now,
look. Follow the direction of my arm. About half a mile, I’d guess, off
shore. Almost exactly between Ka Lae and Kauna Point.”
“I’m following you, Li.”
“Move your glasses around in a tight area of a few hundred yards. See if
you spot a dark object on the bottom of the ocean.”
The boys were looking almost straight down. From his many flights over
water, Biff knew that from above, one could see through the water to
depths of forty to fifty feet with ease. The water acted as a magnifying
glass.
He moved the glasses in a tight circle. Then he spotted what had caused
all Li’s excitement. Lying on the bottom of the ocean was a dark object.
It was slender, about forty feet long, Biff judged.
“Do you think it could be, Biff? Think it could be a boat?”
Biff didn’t want to raise either his own or Li’s hopes too high.
“Couldn’t it be a coral formation, Li?” he asked.
“Gee, I don’t think so, Biff. There’d be more then one formation of
coral around. It’s mighty rare to find just a sliver stuck out somewhere
in the ocean.”
“Then it could be a boat! A boat on the bottom of the ocean.”
“Huntington’s boat?”
“Could be, Li. But let’s not get our hopes up too high.”
“Let’s go. Let’s get back to the _Easy Action_ and cruise over there.
We’ve got to find out.”
Before agreeing, Biff thought about his father and Hank Mahenili. Should
the boys continue the search? After all, the same storm that had forced
him and Li to spend the night ashore could well have caused the fathers
to take shelter. Perhaps their parents even now were back at the beach
opposite the anchorage, or even aboard the yawl. Biff made his decision.
“Okay, Li. Let’s go,” Biff said.
The boys reached the beach opposite the _Easy Action_’s anchorage in
half the time it had taken them to make the ascent. Downhill, all the
way.
“We’ll take the dinghy out,” Biff said. “Won’t do our parents any good
if the yawl isn’t here.”
Their haste matched the excitement growing inside them about their find.
Of course, both knew they could be in for a great disappointment. Biff
pushed that depressing thought out of his mind.
Li upped anchor while Biff got the engine started, then went to the
cockpit. Biff took the tiller and pointed the yawl’s bow directly out to
sea. With a careful eye, he measured the distance from shore until he
was sure he was about half a mile out. Then he put the helm of the _Easy
Action_ hard over to the starboard and cruised parallel to the shore.
“Think you’ve got that spot well marked in your mind, Li?”
“Sure have, Biff. Remember when we spotted it? There was a large, oval
patch of whitish lava just to the left of where we were resting. I’m
sure we can spot it from the sea.”
“Okay. You be the lookout. I’m going to keep this boat on as true a
course as I can. I think we’re just about as far off shore now as we
figured that sunken boat was. What do you think?”
“Looks right to me. What do you want me to do?”
“You take the glasses. Keep them turned on the Mauna Loa slope. Soon as
you pick up that oval lava patch, sing out.”
“Aye, aye, captain.”
Li went forward with the binoculars. He kept them trained shoreward,
aiming them about two thousand feet up the slope.
The distance to the spot the boys had in mind was greater than they had
thought it to be. They covered a lot of water. Biff checked his watch.
He hoped they could spot the sunken hulk before the light went.
“Land ho!” Li sang out and came racing back over the deck to the
cockpit. “Oval patch coming into sight, captain. Here, take the glasses
and see for yourself.”
Biff turned the tiller over to Li and took a look. That was the patch,
all right. It was off their starboard bow, still a good two miles ahead.
Biff revved up the engine, and the _Easy Action_’s auxiliary pushed the
yawl along at a good eight knots. In twenty minutes—Biff timed the run,
figuring the miles the yawl would cover at full speed—they were dead
opposite the lava patch. Biff cut the motor.
“It ought to be somewhere about here,” Biff said. “You shin up the
mainmast. I’m going to put the yawl in a tight circle, starting right
here, then I’ll increase the circle every time we make one full turn.”
While Li was climbing the mast to a height of about fifteen feet, Biff
ducked down into the cabin for a marking buoy. This he tossed overside.
Its metal weight plunged to the bottom and held. The red-and-white buoy
would be the hub of the circle he would put the yawl into. Biff started
the engine again.
“All set, Li.”
“Start the merry-go-round,” Li called back.
The _Easy Action_ made a tight circle. Biff edged the tiller away from
him, and the second circle was of a greater circumference. Biff eased
off on the tiller again. The yawl described a larger circle. If the
sunken hulk was in that area, there shouldn’t be any chance of missing
it. The water was clear, the sea calm.
Round and round they went. The bobbing red-and-white marking buoy became
a mere speck. Biff could barely make it out with his naked eye.
Half an hour passed; then another. The sun was slanting downward, not
more than two hours from its nightly dip into the Pacific.
“Hold it, Biff! Hold it!” came the excited shout from Li.
Biff threw the engine into reverse. He leaped forward and let down the
anchor. He turned and looked up at Li, who, shading his eyes, was
peering intently into the water off the yawl’s portside.
“I’ve spotted it, Biff. I’m sure of it. If I haven’t, well—you come up
and take a look.”
Li slid down the mast and Biff shinned up. He looked at the spot Li had
pointed out. For a time, his eyes were unable to discover any difference
as he squinted, looking down into the water. After several minutes, he
did make out a formation differing from anything around it. It was a
dark object. Biff could think only of a whale, or some other large sea
animal, lying on the ocean’s floor.
“You’re right, Li. There’s something down there.” He slid down the mast.
“But how are we going to find out just what it is?”
Li grinned. “That’s easy, Biff. You have on board your ship _Easy
Action_, Captain Brewster, none other than the world’s record-holding
free skin diver, Likake Mahenili.”
“You’re going to dive down there?” Biff said, awe in his voice.
“Sure. Why not?”
“Well, you’re not going to until we sound for the depth here. What’s the
deepest dive you’ve ever made, Li?”
“Forty-five, maybe fifty feet if I stretch it a little,” Li replied.
Biff got out the sounding line. This was a thin, strong rope. It had a
heavy sinker on the end. At intervals of one foot, it had a metal weight
to mark off the depth. Biff tossed it overboard. The line seemed to run
out endlessly. Biff was afraid the ocean’s depth here was going to turn
out to be too great for Li to try a dive. Then he felt the thud of the
heavy sinker touching bottom. He drew the rope tight.
“Here we go. Let’s both count the markers as we pull it up.”
Biff worked slowly, carefully. They couldn’t risk any mistakes in their
count.
When the sinker broke the surface, Biff looked at Li. “How many markers
did you count?”
“Forty-three. Does that check with your count?”
“On the nose, Li, on the nose. I make it forty-three too.”
“Good. I can make that easy. But, hey, how am I going to know if it’s
the right boat? What was the name of Mr. Huntington’s sloop?”
“The _Sea Islander_, Li.”
“Okay. Can you work the boat over a bit? I’d like to be right over her
when I make my dive.”
“All right, Li. Take up the anchor. Just enough to get it off the
bottom. Then let go the second I call.”
Biff went back to the cockpit. He pushed the engine’s starting button.
He had to go forward about ten feet and edge the yawl to the port about
fifteen. He shoved the tiller away, putting the boat to the port, and
went forward about twenty feet. Then he pulled the tiller to him, put
the yawl in reverse, and came back.
“Let ’er go,” he called out. He felt the anchor grab. It must be almost
alongside the sunken object.
Li came back to the cockpit, darted into the cabin, and came out with a
small anchor. It was a spare for the dinghy.
“What do you want that thing for?” Biff demanded.
“A weight. I’m going down with it. It will pull me down a lot faster
than I could swim. And forty-three feet is a lot of water.”
“I’ll say it is. You all ready?”
Li nodded his head. He had changed into brief, skin-tight swim trunks.
He walked over to the starboard side of the yawl. He took some wooden
matches and hurled them into the water.
“What’s that for?” Biff asked.
“I want to find out if there’s much flow here. If there’s any current. I
have to judge my dive by the current.”
They watched the matches. They seemed to bob up and down in the same
place. Li had tossed them about ten feet from the yawl. As they watched,
they saw the distance between yawl and matches closing. It was closing,
all right, but slowly.
“Know all I have to, Biff. Very slight current. Nothing to worry about;
nothing I have to figure on particularly. Here I go.”
Before Biff could even call “good luck,” Li, the small anchor held in
front of him, plunged into the water.
The wait for Li to surface began.