Off The Grid (19 page)

Chapter 39

Two miles Southeast of the Island of Nevis

Dusk

Cousin Antoine, decades removed from selling the
Rigau family’s unique jewelry to tourists as a boy, now runs a fishing boat, the Anchor Point, out of Charlestown Harbor. The 31-foot Pursuit Offshore 3000 had held up well over the years. There were modest living quarters and storage below deck and plenty of room above deck for guests. Antoine was the second owner. These days it only left the marina if a tourist came calling for a day of sport fishing, which wasn’t very often. Antoine was a retired commercial welder who specialized in underwater work. His extensive collection of scuba gear was about to come in rather handy. MassEnergy paid handsomely for the boat, its skipper and equipment.

Luke had wanted the scuba gear on the previous day to help Kathryn acclimate, but they couldn’t risk being seen in public with it. Since the early 1990s, the government of Saint Kitts and Nevis placed heavy regulation on open water dives. Only permitted, recreational dives were allowed. A 72-hour advance permit was required and even then, the approved locations for dives were nowhere near their desired location. They could only dive without a permit under the cover of night, but their choice of dive locales was the real issue.

The Island of Nevis was essentially a mountain volcano sticking up from the sea. Yet its visible ridges and terrain above water were unlike those found below. The ocean floor off the Southeast end of the island was filled with steep ravines, caves and a rift. From the rift, or geothermal vent, shot up warm water produced by the heating of magma deep inside the volcano and the earth’s core. These unique deep cuts in the floor of the ocean, so close to the island in relatively shallow water, were an immense attraction to recreational scuba divers. But the entire area was restricted by government order, and guarded by a private company, Deep World Oceans or DWO.

DWO was an Australian-based oil company that operated the oil platform about two miles off the Southeast shore of the island, but well within the federation’s national territory. Due to its close proximity to residents on the island and fear that drilling could set off a seismic event, the rig only worked at about 25 percent of its capacity, but it still collected enough oil to line the pockets of the government’s top officials many times over. Claiming a concern over the security for their oil platform from the threat of eco-terrorists, the company was allowed to patrol the waters off the coast and effectively serve as their own naval police force. The government had no reliable navy of its own, only an aging ferry system that transported passengers and goods between Nevis and Saint Kitts. DWO had the might and authority to police the waters surrounding the island.

The sun was still setting to the west as Antoine, Luke and Kathryn piloted out toward the restricted area in an indirect route and at a leisurely pace. The hum of the diesel engine was covered by the waves lapping up against the side of the boat. Estevan elected to stay on shore, never having been a big fan of boats or deep water.

“You know where you’re going?” Luke asked Antoine.

“My grandfather used to come out here in a 9-foot aluminum boat with an outboard motor, a snorkel and a glass mask. After him, my father and his brother would come out here. I was doing it for years until DWO moved in.
Bam
, there goes neighborhood. So yes, I think I can find my way.”

“How did your father and grandfather know there was something worthwhile down there? Why didn’t anyone else see it?”

“The western side of the island is the popular spot for divers because of the coral reef and all of the topographical features. But my grandfather didn’t like the crowds, so he went to the east side where the reef was. He had this old anchor with sharp points on the bottom. The kind they don’t sell anymore. It was steeply hooked like bullhorns. He always carried it. He used to drop it at the edge of the coral reef. I’m not proud of it, but he would use the anchor to break off chunks of the reef for sale. He was out at this site fishing – where we’re headed – and accidentally dropped the anchor over the edge. At about 35 feet down the anchor snagged an outgrowth of rock and became wedged. I don’t know if this was bravado talking or what, but Gramps claimed he sucked in as much air as he could and dove the length of the rope and freed the anchor. I have no evidence to doubt him.

“When he got the anchor back in the boat there was a deep charcoal gray rock about the size of a softball impaled on one end. It wouldn’t budge. He took the anchor back to his shop and used a commercial vise and a sledgehammer to remove the rock.”

“Wouldn’t that damage the anchor?”

“No, they are pretty tough and it was the only one he had, so he couldn’t let some rock stay attached to it for any period of time, it wasn’t safe. When the rock fell to the floor he saw silver flecks on the inside, but when he picked it up, he felt a tingling in his hands. He knew he had found something special, so he kept going back collecting more and more rocks.”

“When did he realize that there was something specific inside those rocks that made them vibrate?”

“He thought that the silver flecks might actually be real silver so he tried to separate them from the larger rocks,” Antoine said. “He created this process for refining it using an old moonshiner’s still that leached out some of the material through steam.”

Luke remembered the whisky still that was back in Loretta’s storage shed in Tucson. Maybe Kirkhorn had tried his hand at replicating the refining process. Luke would need to learn their refining process too.

The scuba dive was simple and shallow. At Stanford he needed an easy recreational elective and signed up for a scuba class that did most of its work in an Olympic size swimming pool, then completed the certification with an open water dive in a California lake. He had been diving with a club in the frigid waters of Seattle’s Puget Sound since he moved there. He liked diving, but it was the camaraderie after a dive that was a big draw. Your only communication under the water is hand signals, so when you surface, everyone is excited to share their tales. It was always a good time.

Luke was concerned about taking Kathryn down to the dive site. Even with lighting for both divers, going down in the depths at night was a difficult dive. They weren’t able to get any of the commercial droplights that would help visibility. They were stuck with what Antoine had on hand - aging handheld lights with wrist straps. Unless there was something solid in front of them, it would be just endless black. But Kathryn insisted she also go on the dive.

“As
MassEnergy’s corporate representative on this project I need to see what you’re doing and what is actually down there,” she had said. “This stuff could be worth a fortune and I want to make sure we do this right.”

Luke spent the next hour of the slow ride to the dive site going over the equipment with Kathryn and ensuring that she knew how to use it. He fit her buoyancy vest with the proper amount of weight, tested her regulator, tank, mask and fins. Luke also instructed her on how to use the failsafe breathing apparatus attached to her vest. In case her regulator malfunctioned or was pulled out, the breathing tube could kick in. Hopefully that wouldn’t need to happen. She seemed a bit overwhelmed by the complexity.

“When we’re down there you must keep me within your field of vision at all times. That should be about six to eight feet. No excuses,” he said. “If for some reason you lose me, stay where you are and blink your flashlight toward the surface. You can also bang your flashlight on your air tank. That sound carries enough that I can find you.”

“Luke, it’s like 75 feet down, right? Will I be able to see the surface? The boat?”

“No. You won’t be able to see anything. Use your flashlight. I’ve seen even the most experienced divers freak out on their first night dive and you’re doing it without any training.”

He went over the hand signals that she might need such as thumbs-up to go to the surface, the A-OK sign and no air. He gave her the big three, knowing full well that she’d probably not remember to use them. Most rookies never did. 

“Gear up. We’re about 15 minutes out from the location,” Antoine said. “You can see the Deep World Oceans oil rig up a head.”

Sure enough, the oil platform was lit up like a Christmas tree sticking out of the water 15 stories on four massive pillars. It was the size of a large office building, but all the corridors were open air, giving the impression that it was still under construction. Various rigging and shafts were positioned under the platform into the water.

“They patrol these waters every hour or so,” he said. “You’ll need to get in and out as soon as possible. You never know when these guys will come through here.”

He handed Luke a wrist-mounted water-to-surface communications link. The face was about the size of a silver dollar with green and red buttons on it. A protective layer of plastic encased the rubberized face of the device to ensure you didn’t accidentally hit the buttons.

“When you’re ready to surface, do your standard safety stop at 15 feet and hit the green button on the device. If everything is clear up here, I’ll confirm you have the OK, which will make your green light blink. If you can’t surface, then I will give you a blinking red light.”

“What if I don’t get any blinking lights?”

“That means you better be a good swimmer, because I’m not up here anymore.”

Chapter 40

The boat stopped about a mile from the oil platform based on the GPS coordinates Antoine had programmed in. The moon was out and a few lights on the island were visible in the distance. Luke took the first wide step into the water, holding his regulator and mask on his face to absorb the impact. Antoine helped Kathryn slide into the water from the rear deck ladder.

“I’m not getting arrested with you gringos,” Antoine said. “Your ride is leaving in 45 minutes. Be back here.”

Antoine was taking a risk bringing them out here, but would he really leave them? Luke didn’t want to find out. With their breathing equipment secure, Kathryn held onto Luke’s buoyancy vest as he released the air trapped inside them. The vests loosed around them as the air escaped. They slowly began to descend into the blackness.

The air tanks were filled with two hours worth of air, but according to the directions they were given, it shouldn’t take more than 10 or 15 minutes to reach the rock formation. Luke estimated they could be out of the water in around 35 minutes, so they had plenty of air. Just in case, he double-checked the gauges on both tanks as they sank toward the ocean floor below.

During daylight dives in the Caribbean, visibility was 20 to 40 feet, but even with a full moon out tonight, visibility had shrunk to around four feet. It was not optimal at all. The four foot range was only as much light as their flashlights could put out. That sort of limitation was incredibly disorienting.

Kathryn’s eyes danced wildly, searching for a landmark – something that would tell her mind that up was up and down was down. Even though Luke was right in front of her, she wasn’t fixing on him, the only stable thing in her view. Luke had seen this before, divers who had never been in open water before experienced a feeling called vertigo that comes from the pressure a dive puts on the inner ear. You felt dizzy and disorientated. For some people it’s a feeling that can never be overcome. Luke hoped that Kathryn wasn’t one of these people. He didn’t have time to take her back up to the boat. 

He wanted to tell her to relax, but of course he couldn’t speak and Antoine didn’t have underwater boards for them to write messages on.

Luke grabbed both sides of her mask, putting blinders on her vision, so she was forced to look directly at him. After a few blinks, she seemed to recognize him and focus. He slowly touched his nose, then placed it between his thumb and forefinger, indicating that she needed to clear her ears. The pressure of being underwater builds up in your ears the further you go down. She did as he instructed and her eyes quickly lit up. It must have relieved some of the pressure.

When they reached the ocean floor, Luke adjusted their buoyancy vests so they hovered just above the sand, without kicking it up. They were at a depth of 45 feet. According to the coordinates Luke had, they were about 100 yards from the mouth of the ravine that held the material. He had hoped Antoine would have dropped them right on top of the ravine, but he wanted to keep the boat hidden from the patrols behind a formation of rocks that was nearby.

Luke took out two blinking yellow glow sticks and placed them on top of a flat rock. He stuck a smaller rock on their cords so they stayed in place. Marking their original location for the boat was just a smart thing to do, given that he was unfamiliar with the terrain. He wanted them to surface as close to the boat as possible.

They exchanged the A-OK sign and set off for the ravine. After spending so many dives in the cold water of the Puget Sound, the relatively warm water around Nevis was a welcome change. He felt a great deal of freedom moving about without a tight neoprene wetsuit, but that also meant that their arms and legs were exposed to sharp rocks or other objects that could injure them. Luke was constantly on the lookout for problem areas and navigated them around boulders or tall seaweed that might hide dangers.

Kathryn was having a hard time keeping up. Her lumbering stroke meant she wasn’t staying close behind him and he was constantly slowing down to allow her to stay with him. Antoine and
Estevan said the edge of the ravine was distinctive because it was ringed with a band of white coral. The GPS unit said they were at the dive site. He had no idea if they were at the middle of the ravine or near its narrowest edge, where the rocks were supposed to be located.

They were now at 70 feet deep. He checked his air tank, it was nearly full just as he expected. Kathryn’s gauge told him that she had used roughly half of her supply of air already. Damn it, he thought to himself. He’d forgotten how novice divers sucked down their air faster than veterans. They focused so much on breathing in and out, rather than just taking in what they needed. Her ability to continue the dive was now seriously in question. Her range was now extremely limited. There was no way she was going to be able to dive into the ravine and have enough air to get back to the boat. He wanted some safety net and she’d just ripped it apart.

Without any way to tactfully explain to her that she was going to have to stay behind, he simply showed her the two air gauges so she could see that her supply was very low. He pointed to her and then down to the ocean floor indicating that she needed to stay put. She vigorously shook her head no, but he ignored her.

He removed two more glowing light sticks from his belt and attached them to another rock, as he had at the drop zone. He flashed her two open hands, indicating 10 minutes. He didn’t want to leave her alone, because he knew how absolutely terrifying it could be to be left at the bottom of the ocean, but they had a limited window of time, and now air, to get back to the boat. They couldn’t risk Antoine leaving them. He could deal with her feelings later. He again indicated that she was to stay in that spot, then he quickly swam into the ravine. When he looked back, she was already too far way. He couldn’t see her lights.

***

According to Antoine and
Estevan, the ravine dipped down to at least 175 feet, which was the farthest they had gone down. A human can easily withstand a depth of about 130 feet, but could dive deeper with a special mixture of gases in their tanks. Luke’s air mix was standard, so he didn’t want to go below 130 feet. At 110 feet down the walls of the ravine started to narrow, so much that he was able to touch both sides. He was reminded of his tiny kitchen in Portland. He was so close he could feel it. When the ravine opened up as he slowly sunk deeper, he could see the markings where chunks of rock had been chiseled away, a good indicator that he’d hit the mark.

He used his hands to walk along the rock walls exploring the area. He thought the rock walls were dark gray or
black, it was tough to tell underwater. The untouched surface was bumpy with tiny divots, like bubbles, indicating that something else had been present when these rocks were formed. He shined his flashlight directly on the rock face. Through the murky water he could see faint specs of silver embedded in the rock.

He opened the mesh retrieval bag that was attached to his thigh and removed a small chisel and hammer. Both tools had wrist straps to ensure they didn’t get dropped. He angled the chisel about 45 degrees up and swung the hammer down on its striking surface. The resistance from the water meant that his mighty slam with the hammer resulted in a modest tap on the chisel. He pounded repeatedly until the tool sliced off a sliver of rock. He placed it in the mesh bag and readied the chisel again.

His flashlight was also attached to his wrist. Each time he swung the hammer the flashlight bounced back in his face or onto the chisel, forcing it off line. He pulled the flashlight off his wrist and opened a Velcro strap on the side of his buoyancy vest. If he could angle the light just so, it would give him a clear picture of his work so he could speed up and get back to Kathryn – and the boat. The Velcro strap tightened down on the flashlight illuminating his excavation project beautifully. He pounded away at the rock face, chipping off dozens of playing card sized samples. The work was becoming easier, as he mastered the underwater tools. As he reached down to place one final rock chip in the bag, he brushed his flashlight with his right arm, pulling apart the Velcro strap and loosening the light. The flashlight rebalanced in the water, shining up toward the surface, plunging him into darkness. Luke couldn’t see the body of the light until it was too late. It quickly sank down and out of his frantic clutches. He watched the light go from a bright bulb to a small dot, then to nothing.

His focus was on the light, so he didn’t feel the mesh retrieval bag loosen around his thigh as he struggled to grab the light. The bag, heavy with rock chips, slipped off his leg toward the bottomless pit below him.

Luke gripped the familiar rock surface and realized his eyes weren’t actually closed, but rather wide open to the darkness. He was in the terrible blackness of the open ocean, with nothing to show for it and no way to get back to Kathryn.

***

Kathryn waited about 30 seconds after Luke swam down into the ravine before checking her air gauge herself. She had indeed become low on air. Lower than she had intended, but she wasn’t overly concerned. She retightened her tank’s release valve and stopped the slow leak of air. She had already slowed her breathing to a trained and even push and pull. She had no intention of waiting motionless in the dark for Luke to return. She moved the glow sticks closer to the edge of the ravine so she could more easily see them. Then, like a fish, she swam gracefully into the ravine in the opposite direction from Luke.