in the Mediterranean a few years back, which tore open the hull. In that case as soon as the ship started listing, Captain Schettino was one of the first to abandon ship. Sadly, many passengers were not able to get off and died. Clearly Schettino missed the memo about a captain being the last to leave a sinking ship.
“So if the captain couldn’t fit in the lifeboat why didn’t he at least try to swim to shore?”
“Like many sailors of that day, the captain couldn’t swim,” Dr. Hunter said. Now that was dumb. Fortunately my Mom insisted I learn to swim when I was a little kid.
“So when do you think you’ll go up to check her out?” asked Eddy. That was what I wanted to know too.
“Soon … very soon. We have already started getting the crew and equipment together. So the next thing is to do an assessment — for that we need to find the anchor, the ship, and its contents. We could be on our way in a few weeks. Care to join us, Dr. McKay?” Eddy smiled, but shook her head no.
“I’d love to, but I’m afraid I’ve got too much work to do, and then there’s my grandson’s sixth birthday party. I know someone else who’d be happy to go, though.” Eddy looked at me and my mind started jumping around like popcorn in a hot pot.
“Do you scuba dive, Peggy?” asked Dr. Hunter.
I was so eager that I jumped off the chair. “Well sir, I’ve already signed up for lessons and start tomorrow.” I hoped Eddy couldn’t see my neck and ears. Mom said they always turned red when I was making stuff up. But what harm was there in saying something when it was going to be true soon enough … that is right after I figured out how to get Mom to agree to letting me take lessons. “I’m sure I’ll have my Level 1 certification by the time we’re ready to go, sir — that is if I’m allowed to join you.”
“And your parents, what would they say about you going off to search for a sunken ship?”
“Well, I don’t have a dad. He died a long time ago.” Before Dr. Hunter had time to say he felt sorry for me, I added: “That’s okay, I’m used to it. And my mom, well she loves stuff like this, right Eddy?” Now if I had to share what Aunt Margaret would think, I’d be sunk like the Intrepid. Dr. Hunter was quiet and rubbed his chin — I think he was trying to decide if taking a kid was such a good idea. I needed to sweeten the deal. “If it will help — I’ll swab the deck, furl the sails, and even act as shark bait if I have to.” The corner of his eyes wrinkled and he laughed softly.
“Shark bait, eh? That could be handy.” I hoped he knew I was kidding. “Well, let’s see, shall we? One thing is for sure, you’ll need that diving certificate. And you better get some practice diving in open water. It’s no good to us if all you know how to do is scuba dive in a pool.”
“Aye aye, Captain.” If I could I would have done a back flip and squealed like a piglet. Instead I saluted him.
“Dr. McKay, you’d better be right about this young lady … I haven’t made anyone walk the plank for some time, but I’m not above it should there be a need.”
The drive home was agonizing. All I wanted to do was jump and dance and yelp, but instead I was strapped into the car seat. I mean how lucky could I be? Me, Peggy Henderson, sailing off on an adventure to find a two-hundred-year-old sunken ship. Wait until TB hears about this! Indiana Jones Junior is moving up the ladder … or should I say down the ladder? The first thing I had to do was get Mom to let me take scuba diving lessons.
I had hoped everyone would be in a good mood when I got home. Instead Aunt Margaret was fuming — again, Uncle Steward was hiding out in the TV room, and Aunt Beatrix was madly polishing the silverware. I soon found out Mom had to stay late at work and I would have to survive Friday evening the best I could without her.
“Homework, on a Friday evening? My, that’s ambitious of you. Are you sure you don’t have time to watch Reach for the Top with me? It’s very educational,” urged Aunt Beatrix.
“Sounds good,” I lied. “But I’ve got some stuff I’ve got to do.” Doing homework was my excuse for finding a quiet place where I could start cooking up my plan for getting Mom to first agree to let me have diving lessons and then to go with Dr. Hunter to search for the Intrepid.
It was after ten o’clock when I finally got to crawl into my sleeping bag on the living room sofa with the books Dr. Hunter had loaned me. The Great West Coast Fur Trade was a book about Captain James Cook, the first explorer to set foot on what is now British Columbia in 1778. He traded trinkets, beads, knives, blankets, and other stuff for otter furs with the coastal First Nations. Then he sailed to China where he was able to sell the furs for other stuff. That was the beginning of the Pacific fur trade, which went until the 1830s.
The other book I dug into was Nautical and Underwater Archaeology for the Beginner. I learned that nautical archaeology was concerned with all the things to do with trade routes, navigational techniques, harbours, boats, fishing equipment, and stuff like that, while underwater archaeology was mostly sunken sites, like shipwrecks.
I was starting to get sleepy and my eyes wanted to close, but I just couldn’t go to sleep without at least reading the first few pages of Captain Whittaker’s journal. His chicken-scratch handwriting was hard to decipher, but I soon got used to the style.
October 3rd, 1811
After loading the Intrepid with the last of her stores, we put out to sea today with a fair wind. Our cargo consists of such things as fine English cloths and Dutch blankets, looking glasses, tinware and copper pots, and razors and knives for trading with the natives. Also aboard are great quantities of ammunition, cutlasses, pistols, and muskets for the Russians. We have about twenty hogsheads of rum, including stores for the ship and some sugar and molasses as well.
Our journey will take us first to St. Catherine’s Island, off the coast of Brazil, where we shall stop for a few days to wood, water, and take on fresh provisions. Once we have our supplies replenished it is my hope that we set sail immediately. If all goes well, the Intrepid should round Cape Horn before Christmas. The voyage will be warm and easy sailing through the Sandwich Islands, though rougher seas await us when we make our way north. Nevertheless, this gives me no discomfort as the Intrepid is a fine bark with three sails, six guns, and as spacious and solid a ship as any I ever captained in my career. As we travel north we will trade for otter furs. Once the ship is filled we set sail across the Pacific for the land of tea and china.
It was a tremendous honour to have Mister Astor himself attend our departure in New York harbour and with his usual flair he waved us off. I am most pleased to have Mister John Carver aboard again as my first mate. He’s sure to be a fine captain himself one day. We have three French Canadians, hired by Mister Astor himself for their expertise in the fur trade. We also have a full complement of Brits and my own countrymen, whom I selected for their steely nerve and hearty dispositions.
There is one other soul aboard. He is one of Mister Astor’s business partners — Mister Robert Lockhart is a Scotsman from Lower Canada. He will oversee the trading, while I am to be left without interference to captain the Intrepid. I have observed that the man has peculiar habits when relating to the crew and I must report that thus far his encounters are less than favourable. Yesterday when introducing himself he attempted to set his authority by threatening the men. He stated that any man found not to be fully loyal to the American Fur Company would be left on the first island, inhabited or not. In my long career I have found that the loyalty of a good seaman must be won by firm and fair leadership and not threats intended to frighten him into submission. Mister Lockhart must learn these are not schoolboys, but fierce sailors who have weathered the worst the
