Chapter Nineteen Tula #2
A couple of the divers frowned at me, and I sensed my weak arms and very pale skin didn’t foster much confidence.
Nathan easily set two tanks beside me. He leaned closer and whispered, “There was a time when two tanks would’ve been nothing for you.”
And I’d have been wearing a bikini and tank top. My skin would have been as tan as my muscles were toned. “Older and fatter.”
“Not fatter.” His gaze lingered over my body. “The curves are very nice.”
A touch of heat warmed my face. “Thanks, I guess.”
Nathan easily loaded the tanks before jogging back to grab the remaining gear.
I braced one foot on the dock and the other on the boat. The ocean slipped and rolled. It had been seven years since I’d been on the water. The ocean splashed my ankles. I was trapped between land and sea.
I drew in a breath and hauled my second leg onto the boat. I took several giant steps, struggling to stay balanced.
Steady hands grabbed my shoulders. I turned to see Tony’s even white teeth flash. “Okay there?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Getting my sea legs back.”
A half smile tugged his lips. “You know how to dive?”
I tugged the hem of my T-shirt down. “I used to back in the day. Just helping on the boat today.” I turned toward the dock as Nathan set down the last two tanks and several bags of gear. My back strained as I lifted the tanks and wobbled them to the corner of the boat.
It was going to be a long day.
Nathan jumped on the boat, his feet firm in the spot where they’d landed. He introduced me as his first mate and encouraged anyone with questions to ask me if they couldn’t get him. I wanted to correct him but kept quiet. He had everyone in the group introduce themselves.
Beyond Tony, a tall Italian guy from New Jersey, there was Jeff, a lean, late-fifties guy who was a contractor from Virginia Beach.
Another diver, Rick, was tall and slim and had red skin that looked a little burned.
He was a lawyer from Northern Virginia. And finally, Martha, mid-thirties, a super-fit teacher, also from Northern Virginia.
Minutes later, Nathan started up the boat and backed it out of the slot. The boat veered out of the harbor, past a collection of leisure and fishing boats toward the Atlantic.
The Oceanus was less than three miles due east of the Brooks house, and it wasn’t in deep water.
It had been struck by the torpedo near the Virginia–North Carolina border, near Carova Beach.
The ship had listed badly and taken on water after the strike and boiler explosion.
But she hadn’t sunk right away. After the vessel had been abandoned, it drifted for a day, burning and smoking.
Residents called it the “ghost ship” at the time.
Finally, the vessel lodged on a sandbar, where a storm and large waves washed over her and filled the rest of her hull with water.
She’d finally sunk in the spot where she’d rested for almost eighty years.
As the boat skimmed along the ocean, I tugged on a ball cap and wiped sunscreen on my skin. It had been so long since I’d been in the sun, and I was guaranteed to be lobster red within an hour.
Martha already had streaks of zinc oxide lotion on her face. Tony looked jazzed, Jeff and Rick slightly reserved.
“Head count four,” I said. “Five with you.”
“That’s correct,” Nathan confirmed.
I moved to the side of the boat and watched as we headed northeast. Toward the west, the Outer Banks were little more than a very distant thin strip of sand. Finally, the land vanished. When we arrived at the dive site, Nathan dropped anchor and cut the engines.
The waters lapped against the boat’s hull as the four divers began to haul on their gear. Nathan suited up quickly, his movements sharp and crisp.
Staring into the calm waters, I couldn’t see the wreck, but I knew she lay quietly on her side below us. I remembered that one of her stacks had cracked and fallen into the silt, and her side still bore the gaping circular gash. Anticipation and worry rushed me.
Nathan walked from diver to diver and asked each to check their air and gauges. “I know you all have dived before, but the safety lecture is a must.”
As he ran through the instructions, some divers listened more closely than others. Generally, the newest to diving were often the best students. Those who had experience under their belts could be the most reckless. As the saying went, a little bit of knowledge was dangerous.
“Feel free to shoot questions to Tula,” Nathan said. “She’ll be manning the boat while we’re down under.”
The divers still seemed skeptical of the pale creature struggling to regrow her sea legs. I tried to appear stoic and confident, but no one looked convinced.
Nathan was the first in the water. He cleared his mask and resettled it on his face. The divers moved to the side of the boat. One by one they tipped backward into the water.
The last guy on the dive platform, Tony, sat facing backward. When he hesitated, I moved beside him. “Take a few deep breaths.”
Nodding, he filled his lungs.
“Put your hand on your mask,” I said. “Just tip right back into the water.”
“I’ve done this before.” An apology wove around the words. “It shouldn’t be a big deal.”
“I get it.” I could sniff out fear with the best of them. “If you don’t want to dive, you don’t have to.”
He looked at me, his jaw setting. “I can do this.”
“I know you can.” According to my therapist, our brains responded well to confident statements. I still wasn’t sure about that, but it cost nothing to think good thoughts.
Tony nodded and drew in a breath. He leaned back and toppled. He hit the water hard. His arms flailed for a moment. My heart pounded. I had no idea what it would take to jump in and pull him out. He could very well drag me under. My vision narrowed to a thin tunnel. I toed off my shoes.
The waters lapped and splashed against the boat, a reminder it could close the distance between us in a blink.
I edged toward the lip of the dive platform. Water splattered.
Before I could jump in, Nathan was at Tony’s side and grabbed Tony’s tanks. He easily righted him. Tony stopped fighting, produced a thumbs-up, and dove under the water.
Nathan looked up at me. “You okay?”
I jabbed up my thumb. “Terrific.”
And in the next instant, he vanished below the surface.