Pirate

Once they were in deep water, Remi let her fears about the weather and the boat’s storm-worthiness rest. Aside from the occasional creaking and moaning of the ship’s hull as they cruised toward Snake Island, towing a fairly new-looking Zodiac behind them, nothing seemed amiss. Selma had vetted the captain, his crew, and his references and had assured Remi that they were reliable. Besides, António had mentioned that his uncle spoke highly of the Golfinho’s captain. That had to mean something, even though Captain Delgado and three of his four crew members looked more like pirates than fishermen. The fourth and youngest, Nuno, reminded her a bit of António, both in age and build. Unlike António, he seemed nervous, glancing over at her, then looking away whenever she made eye contact.

Remi couldn’t decide if it was her presence on board or something else bothering him and so she did her best not to look at him.

Sam noticed also, moving beside her and whispering, “Quite the motley crew, eh?”

“I’ll say. As long as the Golfinho gets us there and back in one piece, I’ll have nothing to complain about.”

As they neared the island that evening, the captain turned the helm over to one of his older crew members, then walked back toward Sam and Remi, leaning over the side next to Sam. “What brings you to the Ilha da Queimada Grande?”

“Looking for evidence of a shipwreck,” Sam said.

“Treasure?” The captain smiled. “I hear that is your specialty.”

“In this case, no. We’re here to document possible artifacts.”

“You are braver than I,” the captain said. “Too many snakes.”

“Lucky for us,” Sam said, “we only need to search the water.”

“Good thing. They could have the winning Mega-Sena lottery ticket on that rock and I would not go. Better to die an old pauper than a rich snakebite victim.”

His smile sent a shiver down Remi’s spine, and she was glad when they were interrupted by the call to dinner. She and Sam took seats near Nuno, but when Remi tried to engage him in conversation, he politely excused himself and left the table.

The weather held up that night, and they slept peaceably, awaking early the next morning to begin the dive.

Sam suggested that they suit up and do a final check of their equipment. The captain asked if they needed help with anything, which they politely declined, and he returned to the helm.

The Golfinho eventually anchored well off the southern tip of the island — far enough away from the very rocks responsible for sending many a ship to the depths over the past few centuries. Whether one of those ships was the vessel they were searching for remained to be seen, Remi thought, watching as they readied the fifteen-foot Zodiac SeaRider.

Nuno climbed down the ladder, secured their gear in the boat, including the large case with the portable side-scan sonar unit. He helped Sam in first, and Sam, in turn, helped Remi. The young man still had difficulty making eye contact, but he seemed polite and willing to help. Soon they were speeding toward Ilha da Queimada Grande. The beauty of the island grew as they neared, the treacherous rocky shore giving way to lush jungle that climbed to a steep peak. Had it been anywhere else, Remi would have enjoyed hiking up to the top to look out over the water. Just thinking about the snakes made her very glad for the large body of water between her and them.

Sam set up the side-scan sonar unit, then directed Nuno on the speed and direction to achieve the best scan of the ocean floor while he monitored the screen. At the moment, the water was fairly calm, but with the predicted rain later, that could change. Much depended on luck and the accuracy of their instruments for locating the wreck — and hoping it was the right one — or they’d be repeating the entire operation when the weather cleared.

If they were lucky, they’d find what they were looking for — not that she was naive enough to think they’d stumble across the actual cipher wheel. A lot of factors came into play when it came to salvaging wrecks, and quite often the contents of a ship weren’t always found in the immediate area where it went down — never mind the possibility that the cipher wheel had already been recovered and was lying in some private collection, its owner none the wiser as to its true purpose and worth.

Right now, all they needed was enough wreckage to figure out what sort of ship went down. That thought sent her gaze to the deadly island, wondering what it must have been like for the survivors, if there were any, thinking they could swim to shore and safety. Assuming they could avoid being smashed against the rocks in the storm-tossed waters and they managed to make it onto the island…

Sam sensed her concern and glanced up from the sonar screen. “Something wrong?”

“I was thinking about the shipwreck. Imagine being that close to land, thinking you were safe…”

His gaze followed hers to the island. “I think I’d prefer drowning over death by pit viper venom.”

“I’d prefer neither.”