Eco Warrior (16 page)

Once the sub was refuelled and restocked, we sat down to discuss our route. I suggested hugging the coast all the way around Tasmania. That would be a thousand miles or so, depending upon how many bays and coves we entered, and would take ten days at most, at a relaxing pace. That would be lots of time to teach Merwin how to sail the sub. And we could stop every day to walk on the beach, and pitch our tent every night. Hollie would love it.

“But I want to go to
sea
, Alfred,” he complained. “I don’t want to stay close to shore. I want to sail as far from land as possible, and feel what’s it’s like to be out in the deep sea. Why don’t we sail to the Southern Ocean?”

“No way!”

“It’s not that far.”

“It’s due south. Every mile south is a mile colder and a mile more dangerous. If you fall overboard in Antarctic waters you’ll be dead in four minutes.”

“But we won’t fall overboard.”

“You can’t know that.”

Merwin looked at me curiously. “I must admit, I’m kind of surprised, Alfred. I would have thought that sailing around the world would have made you more adventurous. No offense, but you sound awfully cautious, like an older person might. Where’s your adventurous spirit? Look at the crew of the
Steve Irwin
going down there and risking their lives.”

“Yes, but they’re sailing on a ship, and are equipped with lifeboats and survival suits. We’re not. The risk is too great.”

“Bah! How can you be an active environmentalist without taking risks?”

Merwin was challenging me now, and I knew that if I were going to be his captain, I had to act like it. It was my decision where and when we sailed, and his duty to obey that decision, like it or not. I took a deep breath, and answered calmly. “We’ll sail around the coast of Tasmania. Don’t worry, I guarantee you’ll sail in deep water, and feel far from land.”

He scrunched up his face, and I could tell that he was biting his tongue. He reminded me a little of my grandfather, and a little of one of the girls at the farm—the fussy one, with the pouty face.

Chapter Twenty

MERWIN TOOK FRITZI to a friend, locked up his house, shop, and boathouse, and we climbed into the sub. We motored out to the centre of the river, submerged, shut everything off, and let the current drag us out to sea like a dead tree. We were undetectable by radar, and pretty near invisible by sonar, unless someone knew exactly where to look, or could hear us; but they couldn’t hear us when we weren’t making any sound. I told Merwin to find a spot in the bow with Hollie and Seaweed, and sit silently until we had reached the river mouth. Even talking loudly could be heard by a sensitive sonar device, although I was pretty sure the river made too much sound and movement of its own to allow sonar waves to travel undisturbed.

Obediently, Merwin took a seat on the floor beside Hollie, and patted his head. We went down the river at four knots, which took over two hours, roughly the same amount of time we had spent picking snails off the road.

Through the periscope I followed the city lights, and steered carefully beneath the two bridges. There were other vessels in the water, but none approached us, and I doubted anyone ever knew we were there. Once we reached the river’s mouth, the lights became fewer and further between, and the seafloor fell sharply. I couldn’t believe we were already returning to sea; we had seen so little of Tasmania.

We headed south through Storm Bay to Bruny Island, a rocky island with cliffs I could have sworn were in Newfoundland. At the very bottom of the island was a collection of jagged rocks called the Friars, where the currents were treacherous. We could feel them tugging at us as we passed through. Around the corner was Cloudy Bay, a large horseshoe bay with calm water and sandy beaches, and a place I figured we could pitch our tent, take long walks, and practise diving and surfacing the sub. The whole area was a conservation zone, and was uninhabited. In fact, the whole southwest corner of Tasmania was pretty much one large conservation area.

It was crowded in the sub to say the least. There were bananas, bread, oranges, mangos, and avocados dangling from the rafters, and they bumped against my head whenever I moved. It was worse once Merwin got off the floor. At least he wasn’t tall, and didn’t have to bend his head. But he was round at the middle, and we couldn’t fit in front of the periscope, or in the stern, or anywhere really, at the same time. If he wanted to pass to go towards the bow or stern, I had to press myself against the wall to let him by. At first it was very awkward, but after a while we got the hang of it. It just took a little patience. Now that we had cleared the harbour, and he was free to talk, his first question took me by surprise.

“Alfred?”

“Yes?”

“Where do I go to the bathroom?”

“You have to go to the bathroom?”

“Yes.”

“Oh. Well, you have two choices: you can climb the portal, and go over the side; or, you can go in the bucket, which is what you have to do when we’re submerged, or in bad weather. I’ll show you where it is.” I led him to the other side of the ladder, and a small recessed space in the wall by the floor, where I kept the bucket. “It has a lid, and you have to always make sure that it is sealed tightly. When you’re done, you put the bucket back in its spot, and pull this flap down to keep it in place, okay? But don’t forget to make sure it is sealed and locked in place.”

“Okay.” He looked around. “Is this all there is?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

“If you tell me when you have to go, I’ll make sure to look the other way.”

“I have to go now.”

“Oh.” I turned around.

“Alfred?”

“Yes?”

“What if I get sick?”

“Are you sick?”

“No, but what if I get sick, do I throw up in the same bucket?”

“Yes. That’s the only one.”

“Oh. I hope I don’t get sick.”

“Me, too. You should always clean the bucket as soon as you use it…I mean, as soon as we are on the surface.”

“How do I clean it?”

“You tie it to this rope, climb the portal, open the hatch, and throw it into the sea. It’s a good idea to drag it through the water for a few minutes. The salt water helps keep it clean. And that reminds me to tell you about the most important rule on the sub.”

“What’s that?”

“Before you ever climb out of the portal, you must always strap on the harness that’s hanging there. That’s the unbreakable rule, and believe me, it’s important. Why don’t you go and practise doing that now? I’ll surface the sub.”

“Can I use the bucket first?”

“Oh, yah. Sorry.”

“That’s okay.”

There was only one harness. But I had lots of rope, so, while Merwin was using the bucket, I fashioned a makeshift harness out of rope. Then I secured it to a ten-foot length of rope, and that was the harness I would use.

Five miles offshore, we surfaced before the sun had broken the horizon. I showed Merwin how to wear the harness, and he climbed out of the portal with the sealed bucket in one hand. I followed him, wearing the other harness, and Seaweed followed me, then turned around and went back inside. It was still too dark for him to see the shore, and the wind was gusting. Merwin looked up at the dark sky. It was filled with stars. His face was lit with wonder.

“This is truly awesome.”

I nodded. “It’s one of the great things about travelling in a sub—you see the most amazing skies. Be careful when you open the bucket.”

“Okay.”

“And make sure to hold on to a handle with one hand when you swing it. It’s easier than you think to fall in the sea.”

“Okay. This is so great, Alfred. I’m so happy to be here.”

“I’m glad.” I watched as he leaned over and grabbed a handle on the portal. He put the bucket down by his feet and tried to open the lid with his other hand. It looked awkward. He should have opened the lid first. Then, when he stood up, he lost his balance as a rogue wave rocked the sub. He attempted to throw the bucket anyway, tossing it into the wind, but it was quickly flung back at him, hitting him on the shoulder and knocking his grip free from the handle. I ducked as the bucket bounced through the air. Merwin made a desperate grab for it, missed, and went flying over the side with a big splash.

I didn’t jump in after him. I knew he was wearing the harness, and I wanted to see how well he would handle the situation. He had claimed to be a good swimmer.

“Whoa!” he yelled. “It’s cold!”

“I bet.”

“How do you climb up this thing?”

“There are handles on the side.”

“I can’t see them. It’s too dark!”

“Feel for them.”

I waited. I could hear him splashing around. Eventually, he found them, and slowly pulled himself up.

“Well…that was refreshing.” He handed me the bucket. “I think it’s clean now.”

Protected from the open sea, Cloudy Bay was calm and shallow, with a sandy floor in places, which was perfect for teaching Merwin how to dive and surface. The beach was sandy, too, and long and wide, which was great for Hollie. As much as he enjoyed tramping around in cities, his favourite place to run was on a sandy beach. On top of that, the bay was secluded. There was not a soul in sight.

Normally at a beach I’d drop anchor, inflate the rubber dinghy, and paddle to shore. But halfway around the bay was a natural breakwater that jutted out about fifty feet or so, and the water there was thirty feet deep, so we tied up, climbed out, and walked over the rocks to the sand. We never bothered to shut the hatch because there were no waves, rain, or people around. I was happy to let the sub air out anyway. It smelled stronger with two people in it.

Hollie hit the sand running, and grabbed the first stick he saw. Seaweed took off in search of crabs, and Merwin and I strolled down the beach. On the way, I ate two of the bananas and three of the oranges that had been bumping against my head. Merwin ate some kiwi and a mango. He was feeling deeply inspired. His eyes were all glossy and happy.

“Alfred?”

“Yes?”

“This is a great life.”

“Yes, it is.”

Chapter Twenty-one

I WAS WOKEN BY RADAR. Two days had passed since we left Cloudy Bay for the open sea, although each day we returned to shore to spend a few hours on the beach. Merwin complained that we weren’t sailing to deeper water, but I wasn’t going to deny Hollie his runs on the beach.

The first night we had slept on shore, but the second night we were out of sight of land, and went to sleep with the hatch wide open, beneath a starry sky. We were also outside of the busy shipping lane, so I wasn’t worried about being struck by another vessel in the middle of the night. I trusted myself to hear the radar if it beeped.

I saw the faint reflection of light bounce off the wall like a puff of green smoke. Everyone on the sub was sleeping. Hollie was curled up on his blanket. Running on the beach for hours each day had worn him out. Seaweed sat as still as a stone. Lights and sounds meant nothing to him if they were not accompanied by the sight or smell of food. Merwin was sprawled on the floor of the bow on his sleeping bag. One of his legs was dangling ungracefully in the pocket of the observation window, his head was lying crooked, his mouth was gaping open, and he was snoring like a buffalo.

I raised my head. Probably it was a freighter coming wide around the shipping lane, but still heading towards Hobart. That it wasn’t in the normal shipping route didn’t concern me; captains will change course for any number of reasons. What did concern me was the possibility that she was a naval vessel, or coast guard. Did she know we were here, or was it just a coincidence? Well, she knew we were here
now
, of course, just as we knew she was there. I slipped out of bed. I figured I’d better see which way she was heading exactly. I didn’t want to get run over by a freighter in the middle of the night.

Moving through the dark, I tilted my head to avoid hitting a bag of oranges, and got struck in the eye by the end of a banana. “Ouch!” Merwin must have moved things around on his way to bed. My cry woke him up.

“What’s up?”

I found the radar screen, rubbed my eye, and took a glance. “There’s another vessel in the water. It’s probably nothing. Did you move the bananas?”