Chapter 235: Treasure Hunt

Friday, August 6, 1971

A short time later, with the noon time sun bearing down on us, we reached the starting point of our initial search grid. As the ship slowed, Captain Tab ordered the TAC lowered beside the ship, and then we watched as the cable reeled out almost three hundred yards before he halted the drum that the TAC was attached to.

Then, continuing on a southeasterly track, the ship slowly picked up speed until the Captain called for ‘steady as she goes’. Then he invited me up to the communications room where two techs were focused on listening to their oversized headphones while occasionally glancing at a bank of instrument gauges, a couple of oscilloscope-like monitors, and the ever-present charts spread out on the table between them.

Twice during that first two hours, one of the techs would suddenly call out a set of coordinates and the ship would turn to pass over the area again. Each time it happened, I would be on pins and needles waiting for confirmation that we might have found what we were looking for. And each time, I was filled with disappointment when it was determined that there wasn’t anything there.

Finally, I gave up and wandered back out to the fantail and stared at the ships wake, imagining that I could actually see the ‘fish’ at the end of the cable, some 300 yards off the stern. After the elation of finally getting under way, and then spotting the first possible, only to be followed by that first sinking feeling as it was ruled out, I realized that my emotions were taking a beating.

“You missed dinner so we brought you a plate,” Aida said softly.

“And here’s some iced tea,” Lydia added.

Truthfully, I didn’t feel up to listening to one of Aida’s long diatribes at the moment, but I was grateful for the food and told them so. They said I was welcome then turned and went back inside.

I ate my dinner alone, sitting on the rear cargo hatch.

“My first search was for a downed aircraft in Lake Michigan back in ‘34. I thought that we would never find it, but the Captain kept telling us that we would find it when the plane wanted to be found. I thought he was crazy, but over the years, I have found his words to be true,” Captain Tab told me. I hadn’t heard him approach.

I sensed more than saw that we were turning east, getting ready for another grid run.

“You know, if you let it, this kind of search can drive you crazy. You just have to...”

“Captain. You better get up here. You have GOT TO see this!” squawked Larry on the Captain’s handheld radio.

“On my way,” he replied as he turned for the bridge.

With nothing better to do, I followed. Even before we got to the bridge, we could see what Larry was talking about.

Because the Edna Lorraine was traveling east as sunset approached, the darker skies were in front of the ship. That’s the only reason we saw it.

“Is that a fog bank?” Larry asked.

“At this time of year? In this latitude?” Captain Tab replied.

After some more discussion between the two sailors, they decided that it wasn’t fog exactly. And it wasn’t really a storm. But it had an ethereal density that gave it the appearance a storm. The last rays of the setting sun were almost directly astern, casting a ship-like shadow on the curtain of mist that shrouded the darkness directly in front of us.

“Hard starboard!” instructed the Captain.

Immediately, Larry spun the wooden helm clockwise.

“The helms not responding sir,” Larry said more calmly than I could have imagined.

“All Stop!”

There was a long pause while the order was relayed to the engine room.

“The engines, Captain. They’re ... they’re not responding either.”

Now I could detect a small amount of panic developing in Larry’s voice.

Suddenly the whole ship began to shudder. It felt as if the Edna Lorraine would vibrate herself to pieces. Then, just as suddenly, it stopped.

“Captain,” the radio squawked.