great-grandfather’s for instance, except he was one of the honest ones.’
‘You sure about that?’
‘No.’
We laughed.
Ava said, ‘What a life that must have been. It’d make a hell of a movie. John Wayne would fit the part like a glove.’
She was right: I could see movie images of salvage men tumbling out of bed in the middle of the night, horns blaring, running to launch their sloops and cutters into the teeth of a storm that had trapped some unfortunate three-mast barquentine, her holds full with valuable cargo and foundering on the reefs.
Whatever wrecker got there first laid claim to the hull and owned it outright, and in turn would divvy up the spoils with his fellow wreckers according to a strict method of accounting.
Many a ship’s captain tried to ward off these wolves by refusing to leave. Some even tried the old trick of leaving a dog or cat on the wreck, claiming still living creatures were still on board. But the wreckers would grab the pet, heave it in overboard, roll up their sleeves and get down to the perilous work of lugging casks of wine, whiskey, lard, and whale oil out of the dark, water-filled holds that threatened to flood at any moment. They’d winch off cargoes of prime building lumber, bundles of silk, muskets, gunpowder, men’s suit coats, ladies shoes, herds of goats, even cattle sometimes - and haul it laboriously back to Key West to sell it to an eagerly waiting market.
I said, ‘Did this imaginary buried treasure of yours come from a wreck?’
A long pause. ‘From a mutiny. And it’s not imaginary.’
‘Tell me what you see out there.’
She lifted herself up from her seat so as to be able to see over the S-38’s long snout. ‘Nothing.’
‘We’ve come five miles, almost six now.’
‘Keep going. It’s out there.’
‘I’ve been down here a lot and never saw it.’
‘Ever flown out this particular course?’
She had me there. All the flying I’d done had been in and around Fort Jeff, and to be honest, the occasional key that I saw could well have disappeared in the next storm, so I never bothered.
‘Knock, knock,’ Ziggy said.
‘Who’s there?’ Ava said.
‘Delores.’
She sighed in surrender. ‘Delores who?’
‘Delores my shepherd, I shall not want.’
‘We’re busy. Go sit down.’
Instead, he wormed his way further into the cockpit. ‘I tried that on Orlando. He didn’t think it was very funny either.’
I said, ‘Orlando’s a preacher.’
‘On the level?’
‘Not ordained, but he does it part-time. Has a flock of folks who favor the way he sees the Lord.’
‘Maybe he could pray for us to find the island.’
‘It’ll take a miracle.’
‘No it won’t. Ava tapped me on the shoulder. Check your eleven o’clock.’
Just off to port, a tiny, emerald green dot of scrub and tree-covered land floated in the middle of nothingness. The three of us crowded the window to stare at the approaching vision.
Ava said, ‘Land ho.’
Ziggy whispered, ‘Treasure Island.’
For a Florida key that wasn’t supposed to be here, it was amazing to behold: a half-mile long, maybe, a quarter mile wide, the kidney-shaped island had substantial scrub and brush, which meant it had been around for some years. Why hadn’t it been on the maps, I don’t know, and it’s not worth discussing here. Maps are a sore spot to flyers and navigators. The better they look, the less you trust them.
I slowly circled at five hundred feet while Ava took turns comparing the real thing to the treasure map in her lap.
‘Shape’s about the same. Not exactly, but close.’
‘Where is ‘X’ marks the spot’?’
‘According to this, a little beyond the scrub line on the westward side. Just up from the beach. See it?’
‘Affirmative.’
In addition to a small beach, a narrow, curving spit of sand continued out into the water, providing a slight lee that would smooth the waters and help our landing.
‘Good a place as any to set her
‘You sure about that?’
‘No.’
We laughed.
Ava said, ‘What a life that must have been. It’d make a hell of a movie. John Wayne would fit the part like a glove.’
She was right: I could see movie images of salvage men tumbling out of bed in the middle of the night, horns blaring, running to launch their sloops and cutters into the teeth of a storm that had trapped some unfortunate three-mast barquentine, her holds full with valuable cargo and foundering on the reefs.
Whatever wrecker got there first laid claim to the hull and owned it outright, and in turn would divvy up the spoils with his fellow wreckers according to a strict method of accounting.
Many a ship’s captain tried to ward off these wolves by refusing to leave. Some even tried the old trick of leaving a dog or cat on the wreck, claiming still living creatures were still on board. But the wreckers would grab the pet, heave it in overboard, roll up their sleeves and get down to the perilous work of lugging casks of wine, whiskey, lard, and whale oil out of the dark, water-filled holds that threatened to flood at any moment. They’d winch off cargoes of prime building lumber, bundles of silk, muskets, gunpowder, men’s suit coats, ladies shoes, herds of goats, even cattle sometimes - and haul it laboriously back to Key West to sell it to an eagerly waiting market.
I said, ‘Did this imaginary buried treasure of yours come from a wreck?’
A long pause. ‘From a mutiny. And it’s not imaginary.’
‘Tell me what you see out there.’
She lifted herself up from her seat so as to be able to see over the S-38’s long snout. ‘Nothing.’
‘We’ve come five miles, almost six now.’
‘Keep going. It’s out there.’
‘I’ve been down here a lot and never saw it.’
‘Ever flown out this particular course?’
She had me there. All the flying I’d done had been in and around Fort Jeff, and to be honest, the occasional key that I saw could well have disappeared in the next storm, so I never bothered.
‘Knock, knock,’ Ziggy said.
‘Who’s there?’ Ava said.
‘Delores.’
She sighed in surrender. ‘Delores who?’
‘Delores my shepherd, I shall not want.’
‘We’re busy. Go sit down.’
Instead, he wormed his way further into the cockpit. ‘I tried that on Orlando. He didn’t think it was very funny either.’
I said, ‘Orlando’s a preacher.’
‘On the level?’
‘Not ordained, but he does it part-time. Has a flock of folks who favor the way he sees the Lord.’
‘Maybe he could pray for us to find the island.’
‘It’ll take a miracle.’
‘No it won’t. Ava tapped me on the shoulder. Check your eleven o’clock.’
Just off to port, a tiny, emerald green dot of scrub and tree-covered land floated in the middle of nothingness. The three of us crowded the window to stare at the approaching vision.
Ava said, ‘Land ho.’
Ziggy whispered, ‘Treasure Island.’
For a Florida key that wasn’t supposed to be here, it was amazing to behold: a half-mile long, maybe, a quarter mile wide, the kidney-shaped island had substantial scrub and brush, which meant it had been around for some years. Why hadn’t it been on the maps, I don’t know, and it’s not worth discussing here. Maps are a sore spot to flyers and navigators. The better they look, the less you trust them.
I slowly circled at five hundred feet while Ava took turns comparing the real thing to the treasure map in her lap.
‘Shape’s about the same. Not exactly, but close.’
‘Where is ‘X’ marks the spot’?’
‘According to this, a little beyond the scrub line on the westward side. Just up from the beach. See it?’
‘Affirmative.’
In addition to a small beach, a narrow, curving spit of sand continued out into the water, providing a slight lee that would smooth the waters and help our landing.
‘Good a place as any to set her
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