South Seas

"Santiago,' the boy said to him as they climbed the bank from where the skiff was hauled up. 'I could go with you again. We've made some money.' The old man had taught the boy to fish and the boy loved him. 'No,' the old man said. 'You're with a lucky boat. Stay with them.'"
                      –Old Man and the Sea


The grandfather had seen something six feet below the surface on the sand that the granddaughter had not seen.  Something stirred in him that he had not felt for many many years.  They both rose to the surface in unison.  Luckily the kayaks were still soft anchored and surrounding them. No other boaters would run over the top of them if they saw the kayaks.  One sailboat chipped up and down the line of the Costa some distance to the west and to the east the great South Seas resort stood, proud, gray, and the palm trees barely nudged against a smattering of wind.  The girl flipped her goggles up. "Did you see this?" She hauled up the mesh bag.  It was from one year ago, when they had made their secret trip across this very strait in the moonlight accompanied by two dolphins who seemed to chaperone them to the beach. "This is the bag of shells that I lost last time." Now the grandfather had not seen that. What a find! There was a bit of luck stirring he thought, and he examined the bag quickly, while continuing to dog paddle to stay buoyed in shallow water.  "Are you getting tired, Lily?" he asked. Her life jacket was in the kayak, and he could certainly get this for her.  "There was one other thing that I would like to dive for.  You go on up into your kayak and wait for me." He helped scoot her up and over the lip of the small kayak; it wavered side to side and nearly dipped into the water.  What a mess that would have been.  So easy to slip out of the kayak, so difficult to get back in from the water.  His heart stirred. The old man had read his books about privateering in these waters.  Privateering. Pirating. What was the difference was not much difference in action, but different in its backing. The privateer had his slip of paper from the crown, or ordinance from its launching merchant. The pirate did not have such a piece of paper.  How many privateers had become pirates without anybody knowing? What he saw at the bottom was something alright.  He pulled his goggles back up over this eyes and took an enormous breath.  He went straight down to the bottom like a thrown stick.  The sand had stirred up so he felt around the area that they had just reached.  At first, it was soft sand, so he circled around slowly so save his breath, but then there it was, something large, something wooden, this he knew and placed his hand around what he knew to be a part of the deck of a ship!