He picked up her photo. Annabelle Cunningham, twenty six, face vibrant, wide chestnut eyes above high cheekbones, and a mane of dark hair that fell in loose curls around her shoulders. She’d come to Jersey with him, and had immediately fallen in love with the magic of the place. Nathan had invested in the only café bar in Bonne Nuit for her that was right on the waterfront called Annabelle’s. It had proved to be a big hit with both the locals all year round and tourists in the summer. Putting the photo back on the polished desktop he quietly reflected on just how perfect his life was. Outside, the crunch of gravel on the drive, as his daughter pulled up in the new Mini Cooper he’d given her, for her last birthday. And then the sound of the front door closing, and she came in smiling and happy as she always was. She threw her wet jacket over the back of a nearby chair. A small puddle formed on the polished wooden floor, as it dripped. She then leaned over and kissed the top of his head.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a storm like this, it’s like hell out there, Pops.”
“The forecast is good for tomorrow though, you see it’ll be clear by the morning.” He swivelled around in his chair. “Good crowd in tonight?”
“Extremely.” She said walking through to the kitchen for a glass of milk. “We had a group of Americans in who decided to stay until closing.” Yawning she added, “God, I’m tired.”
“You ought to get off to bed, it’s almost twelve thirty.”
“Perhaps I will, but we really must discuss the ideas that I have for the café refurbishment in the morning, though.”
“Sounds just fine, but I’m going out in the boat first thing, may even dive, weather permitting, of course. What say I come to you at the café for coffee late morning?”
“I hope you’re not going out on your own, you know how dangerous it is, especially after a storm like this.”
“Annabelle, I’m an old eccentric man who likes to scrabble around on the seabed, and in caves and tunnels both above and below the water. Please humour me by not worrying, I would never intentionally endanger my life. You know that.”
“Just by diving on your own is asking for trouble if you ask me, and especially as you will insist on diving this side of the island.”
“As true as that may be, I’m always careful. You forget, I had one of the best teachers in the business and believe me, Rob Chapman taught me well.” He got up out of his chair and gave her a hug. “Now stop worrying about me and go to bed.”
She squeezed his hand and went out. He returned to his sea charts, taking one across to the sofa in front of the open fire and stretching out comfortably. Since losing his wife he had found it increasingly difficult to sleep at night, but after a while his eyelids became heavy and it wasn’t long before he was asleep. The sea chart of the northern coastline of Jersey sliding onto the floor.
The blue light of dawn came flooding in through the wall of glass onto Nathan as he lay sleeping on the sofa, gradually waking him up. He lay there for a moment; then looked up at the rescued ship’s clock on the wall above the fireplace. It was a little after five thirty. He got up off of the sofa, stretched and then went across the room and pulled back the two enormous sheets of toughened glass that led out onto the hardwood deck. The sun was just appearing over the horizon, but strangely there was a calm, almost a stillness about the air and the sea that was unusual, no doubt something to do with the storm last night, he thought. But, excellent conditions to take the boat out, and absolutely perfect for a dive.
The sunshine always made Nathan feel happy, but on this morning he also felt excited about taking the boat out. Going through to the kitchen he put the kettle on, and ground coffee beans while it boiled, making a round of chicken and mayonnaise sandwiches for later. He made himself a coffee and some toast, and went back out on to the deck to eat his breakfast. After he’d shaved he quickly wrote a note for Annabelle, and then went out to the garage, gathered up his diving equipment in to a large canvas kit bag, and walked outside into the brilliant sunshine.
It took Nathan no time at all to walk the short distance down the winding lane to the old harbour. It was still very quiet, and much too early for the tourists, with only a hand full of fishermen about, and a few noisy seagulls squawking overhead. He dropped the kit bag into his fibreglass dinghy at the jetty. Cast off, and rowing slowly, started to thread his way between the fishing boats at anchor until he came his way between the fishing boats at anchor until he came foot power cruiser.
Pulling down the stern step he scrambled aboard. After securing the dinghy on a line, he made a thorough inspection of the boat for any storm damage. Happy that everything was as it should be, he slotted the three full air tanks that he’d stowed the previous day into an upright holder on the stern platform.
He then went below, and checked all of his equipment that was in the kit bag. The full-length wet suit that he’d bought from the local dive shop had excellent thermal properties, bright blue with yellow flashes down each of the arms and legs. Fins, mask, buoyancy jacket, gloves, air regulators, and his dive computer. He checked everything with meticulous care always remembering what he’d been taught by Rob Chapman, check everything at least twice before a dive, and don’t take unnecessary risks.
He went back up to the wheelhouse and the single diesel engine roared into life, the boat gently drifted before he engaged the powered anchor winch. The chain wound its way back in to the self stow locker in the bow and he took the Nautical Lady towards the open sea with boyish enthusiasm.
Nathan pushed the fibreglass craft up to eighteen knots as he sat in the plush leather seat feeling total exhilaration as the fresh salt air rushed over him. He felt alive, and very happy as he pondered over the dive site he was going to. The sun was up now with the sea the most perfect deep blue, the granite cliffs of northern Jersey rose up on his left side creating a breathtaking sight. “Nothing on earth could possibly be better,” he thought.
“God, I LOVE THIS PLACE!” He shouted at the top of his voice and pushed the throttle even further forward, taking the boat up to twenty-one knots.
He had quickly reached the spot where he planned to dive. It was an area considered by those more experienced local divers as extremely dangerous due to the large jagged rocks that were completely unseen at high tide. Even Chapman didn’t dive there due to the strong currents, and an underwater nightmare world of fissures and channels.
Rob Chapman had told him that just after the Second World War there had been two divers from the Royal Navy conducting a search of the area for any mines that the Nazis may have laid during their occupation of the island, they had gone down, and never re-surfaced. Few people even knew of this, and the professional divers all over Jersey never took anyone there because the sea around the rocks was generally so turbulent. That in itself, was enough to keep anyone away, but not on this sunny morning. After the storm the night before it was like a millpond. Cunningham had not seen anything like it before. Adrenaline suddenly surged through him as the excitement of what lay beneath took a hold. He switched on his depth finder, and throttled back the engine. It was then he spotted it, the lines on the screen showed what he was looking for.