Tomb of the Lost

Chapter THIRTY FOUR



PORT OF GABES, TUNISIA



The sound of the car door opening woke her up. She had been sleeping with her head on Dennis’ shoulder, who was awake.

“Oh sorry,” she said slightly embarrassed.

“Not at all,” he replied smiling.

She looked around out of the windows at the bustling port, trying to familiarise with her surroundings. The sound of tug boat horns drifting through.

“You were comfortable so I left you and besides you kept my shoulder warm.”

It was the truth. Dennis had been tempted to slip his arm around her and allow her in closer, to sleep against his chest. He wasn’t sure, but there had been times when he thought she was as attracted to him as he was to her. He just wasn’t quite sure and he didn’t want to make a fool of himself. She was still looking around, almost dazed, her senses dulled by the sudden wakening.

“Where are we?” she asked, running her fingers through her long hair.

“Gabes port. You slept all the way through the town, which wasn’t much.”

“Where are the others?”

“Your boss and George have gone to speak to the harbour master. They told me I could wait in the car with you. The driver is over there smoking.”

“Oh.”

Natalie rubbed her eyes.

“I can’t believe I fell asleep. Are you sure you didn’t mind me resting against you.”

“No. Not at all. Although your snoring did annoy everyone after a while.”

She looked up into his eyes.

“I was snoring.”

A grin spread itself across his lips.

“Oh you!” she said, playfully punching his arm, “You had me worried then.”

It was chilly in the car. She had goose pimples on her arms and she rubbed them.

“I didn’t think I snored. It’s cold in here.”

Dennis opened his door.

“It’s warmer outside,” he said stepping out for some fresh air. Still tired and half asleep Natalie slumped back in her seat and closed her eyes. Dennis pushed the door to. The sound of seagulls cawing woke her again. She yawned, rubbed her face, moved across the seat to open the door and climbed out into the bright morning sunshine.

The dock was bustling with activity. Cranes were lifting nets of cargo from the holds of ships. Lorries were being loaded and unloaded. Men passed each other on foot. Some stopped to speak, exchanging pleasantries with other sailors. An American style refreshments van was selling sandwiches and drinks. A group of black men in jeans and T-shirts and wearing building site hard hats were gathered around it enjoying some breakfast. Nearby Natalie could see a construction site. Tower cranes reaching to the sky. One of the construction workers spotted Natalie as she was stretching by the car and he nudged his fellows to either side. Soon they were all looking at her and whistling and calling out. She stopped stretching and glanced over towards them. One of them made the shape of an hourglass with his hands and finished the gesture with thrusting of his hips. She tutted and turned to face the car. She continued her stretching exercises and stopped as she noticed Dennis standing by the waters edge. An old rusty fork lift drove past. Its forks rattling and banging at every little bump. Its driver was drinking bottled water. An old radio was shoved in the front playing music at full blast. Natalie, only in jeans and a vest, reached into the car for an extra T-shirt, slipped it over her head and wandered over to Dennis. He had just bent down to pick up a handful of loose stones. One by one he was skimming them or just throwing them into deep water.

“Having fun?” she asked joining him.

“I haven’t done this since I was a kid.”

She watched another stone as it arced and fell with a plop.

“Can I have a go?”

“Sure,” he said emptying some of the stones into her hand.

She took the biggest one and threw it almost as far as he had. He whistled.

“Wow. You throw it good for a….” He stopped as she looked at him open mouthed.

“For a girl?”

“For a….I was going to say for a….” he trailed off as he couldn’t think of the right thing to say.

“Don’t underestimate me Mr Dennis. I can take care of myself.”

“It’s not me you have to worry about. I think it’s George.”

“George?” she sounded surprised. Then in a softer voice she said.

“George is a darling really. He feels very protective over me though I frequently remind him it’s not necessary. He loves his wife very much.”

“What’s she like?”

“Small, hard working, short tempered, especially around him. Not pretty.”

“What about your boss?”

Natalie glanced across at Hutchinson who was now at the sandwich vendor. The construction workers now sitting on empty pallets eating their breakfast nearby.

“Jim is lovely, and his wife Carol. Jim was lecturing at university while I was a student and he took me under his wing. He’s the kindest person I’ve ever met. I like his long suffering wife Carol very much.”

“Long suffering?”

“Jim is married to Carol but more in love with his work. She told me once that in all the decades they’ve been married she could count the number of years he’d actually been home on one hand.”

“Poor woman.”

“What about all the others in your team?”

“Jack and Tom have love affairs with whichever holiday reps are put on the island for the summer. These poor girls go back home after the season thinking they’ve found love or the right ‘one’ only to find that the next time they ring they’ve been dumped.”

“And what about you Natalie. Have you ever found the right one?”

“I’ve never really looked. I’ve had relationships. They’ve all ended. None ever really serious. My career has always gotten in the way.”

Dennis looked out over the water.

“Mine too. I’ve never stayed in any one place long enough.”

“There must have been someone, somewhere.”

“Oh a few. Here, there, just casual flings like yourself, nothing serious.”

Then suddenly, quite unexpectedly, he turned to her and said.

“I must admit Natalie I think I’m falling for you.”

This came as a shock to her.

“What? What did you say?”

Dennis hadn’t meant to say it. It had just slipped out.

“I….I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry. Please excuse me.”

She reached out and touched his arm.

“No really, I’m glad you did.”

Their eyes met. Then he was coming in. His lips slightly apart. His eyes on her lips. They were full, sensuous. Her heart was thumping. Her eyes closed. The kiss sent tingles down her spine. They were about to embrace when a voice from behind said.

“Now here we are.”

It was Hutchinson. In his hands a tray of sandwiches, wraps and coffee. Natalie and Dennis smiled, embarrassed, at each other.

“I’ve bought us a selection of sandwiches. There is beef, chicken, cheese. I think that one on the end is turkey. Help yourselves. Natalie and Dennis thanked him and took a sandwich each.

“Grab yourselves a coffee too. George is bringing over bottles of water.”

“Thank you Jim,” Natalie said.

She looked out over the port at the various docked vessels. There was one Greek cruise ship, ferries for the island of Djerba, one very old naval vessel, a gift from the British government. It was in desperate need of a refit and repair. Tunisian naval vessels, much smaller than their British naval counterpart. Various fishing ships, having returned from night fishing, their crews working frantically to unload their catch for the early morning markets. Alone at the far end was a large ship painted white with Russian writing at its bow. At its stern a large crane.

“Our ship, the Volante, is the white one moored away from the others,” Hutchinson told them. He had put the tray down and was now unrolling himself a wrap. He placed his coffee on the roof of the people carrier.

“We’re just waiting for the port authorities to check our passports. They’ll return them after photocopying and then we can move over to the ship. The crew are already on board. They all speak English but how well I don’t know but they’re there to assist you in any way they can so feel free to ask them for anything,” Hutchinson stopped as he glanced around and saw a man in naval uniform approaching carrying a large white envelope, “If you’ll excuse me for a moment,” Hutchinson walked off to meet the customs man halfway.

Dennis whistled at the size of the research ship. It was easily over a hundred feet long.

“He doesn’t do anything by halves does he. How much does that cost to hire a day?”

“Oh you mustn’t worry yourself about things like that Mr Dennis,” Natalie said “The institute pays for everything, even those sandwiches we’ve just had.”

“I’m not worried. I’m just….I guess I’m starting to realise for the first time just the scale of this venture.”

“That surprises me considering you wrote that article on it.”

“I know,” he said feeling foolish, “I didn’t mean that it’s just,” he was struggling to explain himself, standing there by the waters edge, “Do you realise that I could be standing in the very same spot my grandfather stood in with the German Colonel all those years ago.”

He moved a few feet to his left.

“Or could it have been here or here or maybe where you’re standing.”

Dennis stopped talking. He tried to imagine the scene. His eyes closed. The sound of gunfire. The British storming the Medina. The final showdown. Johnny Larder there somewhere, where the warehouses now stood, on the ground next to Koenig. That madman Wurtz standing over them. Johnny and Koenig staring down the SS Major’s gun barrel, staring into death. ‘Then miraculously my grandfather saving them with seconds to spare’

“I’m sorry what did you say?”

“I asked you if the German Colonel is still alive.”

“No he’s not. I was able to do some research on him. It was very brief. There were so many officers on both sides. It’s only the really famous ones who can be found in search engines. The Colonel was a Hans Koenig serving directly under a General Von Brockhorst. There was lots of information on him, the General. He served a General Hans Jurgen Von Arnim. He was Field Marshall Rommel’s number one. The leader of the archaeological team was a Werner Von Brest, Doctor Werner Von Brest. I found lots on him. He was Hitler’s personal friend. The top archaeologist of his generation according to the internet. He is listed as being killed in the battle for Gabes, Tunisia. He actually went down with the ship we are looking for. The Colonel, Hans Koenig, I was surprisingly able to find some information on him also. He returned to Germany in 1947 after being held prisoner until the end of the war. He became a schoolteacher and then quickly became headmaster. Tragically his life was cut short in 1952 when he was killed in a car accident. The rest of the captured Germans knew nothing about the identity of the sarcophagus. After Koenig’s death my grandfather was the only survivor to know. He told me on his death bed that he’d never spoken of it ever again. You see my grandfather wasn’t interested in history. He didn’t properly understand the importance of what the Germans had found. He told me he thought Alexander was a Roman or something.”

Natalie giggled into her hand.

“Oh excuse me, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make fun.”

“That’s all right. He was quite naive about certain things. I guess this was one of them at the time.”

“Bless him.”

“Yes,” Dennis said remembering Alf, “You know,” he continued, “When someone special dies, at the time the pain can sometimes be unbearable and then as time goes by and the sorrow eases you find you just love them, that person, for who they really were.”

For a moment Natalie thought she saw a tear in the corner of his eye.

“Hey,” she said turning to face him, “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You haven’t. I didn’t see him often in his last years. My work always got in my way. Journalism does that to family life. I spent some years as a war correspondent in the middle east.”

“Wow. Did you see much fighting?”

Dennis undid his right shirt sleeve and rolled it up to reveal his elbow. A large surgical scar ran from his triceps to the start of his forearm. She gently touched the skin.

“Ouch!”

“Car bomb in Jerusalem ripped my arm open. I lost a lot of blood but I was lucky….”

“Lucky?”

“Yes. My cameraman was killed in the attack. He inadvertently shielded me from the blast.”

“That’s terrible.”

“Like I said,” Dennis pulled the sleeve down and buttoned it up the wrist, “I was lucky.”

“When did that happen?”

“Three years ago. Eight were killed in the blast. Fourteen more wounded.”

“I think I remember seeing it on the news.”

“After that I decided to get out. I convalesced back in England. When I fully recovered I achieved an ambition I’d had for a long time. My editor in London arranged for me to train with British special forces for a book we published together. I had a great four weeks with those men. I wasn’t allowed to reveal names for obvious reasons. Four weeks in winter in Wales. They were the toughest men I’ve ever met.”

“It sounds like you had fun.”

“It was incredible. You sometimes had no food and you were told to go and find it.”

“Like a McDonalds you mean,” she said laughing.

Dennis chuckled with her.

“No. What they called real food.”

“Like deer or rabbit.”

“Yes and worse. Sometimes you had to turn over stones.”

She looked at him in disgust now.

“Are you serious?”

“Yep,” he said, “Worms.”

She put her hand over her mouth.

“Worm omelettes,” he said.

“Oh shut up! You’re making me feel sick!”

Then a thought crossed her mind and she very nearly was sick.

’Oh God! I’ve just kissed him’

She had to stop herself from vomiting. When she could take her hand away she fanned her face with it.

“Seriously please, shut up! It’s disgusting!”

“Not if you want to survive it’s not.”

“Really it is. I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

“Oh it wasn’t that bad. I must admit I’ve seen them wriggling about since and probably couldn’t do it again. But when you’re surrounded by tough, fighting, men who are laughing at you for hesitating, well….” He threw his arms out to the sides, “You’ve just got to do it. Still one thing they did do was teach me to fire every weapon they had. Turns out I’m quite a good shot too.”

“George would keep a gun if I let him.”

“I take it you don’t approve.”

“There is no need for them.”

“Boys and their toys huh!”

“Yes. But as far as my work goes there is no use for them. Some of the sites I’ve worked on in Egypt have had armed guards but never near the archaeologists themselves.”

“They must be man’s worst invention right.”

“No that would be cigarettes.”

“Ah I thought I saw disapproval when George was smoking near you.”

“To be honest I hate it. But most men in the Mediterranean world smoke and to be honest I can’t make personal choices for him. He knows I don’t like it and he does stay away from me when he smokes.”

“You’re his boss, surely you could forbid him.”

“Sorry I don’t believe I have the right.”

“My grandfather used to smoke but of course most if not all soldiers during the second world war did. They didn’t have much else in the way of luxuries. It would be almost another forty years before he would give up.”

“What did he die of? Sorry if that’s not personal. Well it is….I….Sorry,” Natalie fell silent, embarrassed.

“Many things, Emphysemia, Angina, taking a bullet through his shoulder probably didn’t help bless him. They said at the time that his lungs weren’t injured but he suffered with his breathing in old age. Did I mention he was ninety when he died….”

She shook her head.

“….And just old age. He worked hard all his life to provide for his wife and four children and many grandchildren. I am the second oldest. There are ten of us and now five great grandchildren,” Dennis paused for a moment staring out to sea, “I only hope we make him proud,” he continued looking up at the heavens, “Because we are so proud of him.”

They both sensed Hutchinson returning.

“We’ve got our port clearances,” he said handing back their passports. Natalie opened hers at the photo page, looked again as she recognised Dennis in the picture and offered it to him.

“I think this may be yours,” she said.

He checked the one he was holding.

“My hair has never been that long,” he said giving her hers.

“Are we leaving Tunisian waters Jim?”

“No Peter it’s just routine that they check all on board have current passports. Everything is in order. Everyone to me please.”

They gathered in a circle around him, Natalie, Peter Dennis, George, Jack, Tom and Alex the Frenchman. The driver of the people carrier presented a clipboard which Hutchinson signed and returned. The driver thanked him and placed it on the front passenger seat. He opened all the doors and began unloading all the luggage and placing it on the quayside. The driver of the other hired vehicle did the same. The two vehicles left.

“If you’d like to collect your belongings and follow me to the ship. If you have any queries crew members are on hand to help.”

Hutchinson set off at a brisk pace. The others throwing bags over shoulders and wheeling cases behind him. Once on board they were shown to their cabins by the crew. Natalie was given a cabin all to herself. Dennis rapped his fingers on her door.

“Hello,” she said.

He poked his head into the room.

“Hi just thought I’d check to see if you’re ok.”

“Yes I’m fine thank you. You can come in.”

He entered the cabin. It was bigger than his, which was just down the corridor. He looked out of the port hole window. The water was ten feet below. A tug boat was maneuvering into position.

“It looks like we are leaving straight away.”

Natalie had just placed her holdall on the mattress of the bottom bunk.

“Well Jim never likes to waste time.”

“That’s what I came to see you for. Jim has asked that we be on deck near the crane at 11am. He wants you to go over the equipment and give the safety talk.”

She looked at her watch.

“An hour and fifteen minutes.”

Dennis sat down on a small stool.

“Do you mind,” she said, “I’m waiting to unpack my things.”

“Don’t mind me,” he said not taking the hint.

“Most of it is my underwear,” she said opening a small drawer in the bedside table.

He jumped to his feet.

“I’m sorry.”

The ship lurched sideways as the tug boat pulled it away from the dock causing her to stumble into Dennis’ arms as he caught her. The closeness of the embrace felt good to them both.

“What was that?” she asked.

“I guess we’re leaving port,” he replied.

She felt that she should pull away from him. She’d hugged men before of course in relationships but somehow this felt different to her. Kind of exciting. Suddenly he was kissing her hard, pulling her towards him, still holding her arms. She responded, the tip of her tongue touching his teeth. The kiss went on and on and she pulled his shirt out of his trousers and ran her hands up and over his chest. She felt his nipples harden under her touch. Her own felt very hard. He unbuttoned the shirt and shook it off. She pulled away from the kiss to admire his muscled torso.

“Close the door,” she said.

He went to it.

“I don’t normally do this with people I’ve not known very long.”

“Neither do I,” he replied.

She took her vest off, her bra candy pink. Next she was unzipping her jeans. He gawped at her. She had a fantastic body. Then a bad thought crossed his mind.

’We have to work together and I respect her!’

He looked at her perfect body. He’d never wanted a girl so much.

“Natalie maybe we shouldn’t. I mean we do have to work together and I don‘t want to upset your boss.”

She kicked her jeans off. Her thong matched her bra. She made it to him in two steps and grabbed him by the neck, pressing her body hard against his.

“Shut up and kiss me.”

He felt the lace of her underwear against his body and it stirred him. He reached behind for the latch on the door.

Afterwards they lay in each others arms in the cramped bunk. She gently stroked his chest with her fingertips. There was a knock on the door. Natalie lifted her head off Dennis chest.

“Who is it?”

“It’s Jim Nat. Just checking to make sure Peter gave you that message.”

Dennis held his breath in case Hutchinson heard him.

“Yes he did.”

“Have you seen him?”

Natalie put her hand in front of her mouth to stop herself from laughing.

“No I haven’t Jim. Have you tried his cabin?”

“Yes. He wasn’t there.”

“I don’t know where he could be then.”

“I’ll see you on deck then Natalie.”

“Give me five minutes. I’ll be there.”

“Thank you Natalie,”Hutchinson was about to walk away when he knocked the door again.

“Mr Dennis I’d like you to come as well.”



The ship was out to sea by the time they grouped on deck. The feel of it familiar to Natalie and her group once again. Peter Dennis leaning against the side. The untoward motion of the ship alien to him.

Hutchinson finished his briefing before handing over to the ship’s Captain.

“Good morning lady and gentlemen,” he said introducing himself in heavily accented English, “I am Captain Ali Hakan. Please call me Ali. I am from North Cyprus,” he continued looking at George, “I would be interested in learning where you are from my friend.”

George nodded the minimal of politeness. The Greeks loathed the Turks and Northern Cypriots. He could never conceive of being friends with any of them. He or any of his people.

“My crew,“ Ali continued, “Are mainly Turkish, two Russians, an American and Greeks. We’ll be sailing approximately two miles, to this location.”

Ali pointed on a map, outspread on some oil drums. He gestured for Hutchinson to take over.

“Yes. The island you see here is Djerba. This is Gabes,” Hutchinson pointed back to the port they’d left earlier that day, now on the horizon, “That is Djerba ahead. Somewhere on the line we are following is our prize. It’s up to us to find it.”

“In this area are a dozen shipwrecks,” Ali cut in.

“Nine of which are from world war two,” Hutchinson continued, “We are lucky that the water is shallow here. Sometimes reaching depths of only one hundred feet. It is shallower near the island, naturally. There are two wrecks here. We will search those first,” Hutchinson rummaged amongst the papers in front of him until he found what he was looking for. He held it up. It was a large black and white photograph.

“This is what we’re looking for. This is the freighter ’Tangipito’ This picture was probably taken before the war because she appears to be in pristine condition. One torpedo and sixty years at the bottom of the Mediterranean will have taken their toll on her. Take a good look though. There may still be something recognisable down there. Pass that picture around,” Hutchinson handed it to Alex, “Natalie.”

“Thank you Jim.”

Natalie moved forward from her place in the group.

“We’ll be diving in pairs. Alex and George. Tom and Jack. Myself and Peter. Mr Dennis is a novice diver which is why I’m accompanying him. It was Jim’s idea,” she said when she saw the look from George.

“Yeah I dived many years ago on a family holiday in Jamaica. I’m sure it will all come back to me,” Dennis said.

There were a few chuckles from the team. Natalie smiled at Ali.

“The water is not so calm today,” the Turkish Captain said, “It will be quite murky down there for you. The current pulls quite strongly around the island and you can drift. This is especially dangerous for divers if you get separated. Even in depths of sixty feet you may not be able to see the ship on the surface. If anyone gets into difficulty my crew will be circling in the dinghy. Make it to the surface and wave your arms and they will pick you up. Any questions? No. Good. We’ll arrive at the first wreck site in….” Ali turned to his first mate.

“About thirty minutes Captain.”

“Right people if there is nothing else let’s get suited up,” Hutchinson said.

The team broke into their pairs. Dennis looked over the side at the turbulent waters. It was a fairly calm day.

“There is nothing to worry about,” Natalie said joining him.

“I’m not worried. It’s just not as I remembered it.”

“You mean the warm, clear waters of the Caribbean. Jamaica wasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“The water here will be warm. You just won’t be able to see much until you’re at the bottom, but don’t worry,” she flashed him her best smile, “I’ll be with you the whole way.”

“What are those?” he asked sitting down on a seat.

“Shark cages.”

“Shark cages! Are there sharks in the Med?”

“Some. But nothing to worry us much. Trust me.”

“That’s the trouble. I do.”



Once in the water Dennis felt more afraid than he’d thought he would. The accomplished divers had rolled off the dinghy backwards. Natalie told Dennis to stand and jump in feet first. He felt himself reaching out to try to steady himself, completely kitted out as he was, with tank, breathing apparatus, weighted belt, flippers. He felt ridiculous. He was sure he looked ridiculous. Natalie was sitting at the edge of the small boat.

“Just remember to breathe normally.”

He nodded and took two short breaths. Then thinking he was ready he wobbled to the little boat’s edge and nearly capsized it as he jumped into the sea. The fear reached him first and then the cold of the water. Bubbles raced past his mask and for a moment he felt himself begin to panic. He’d stopped his descent. That much he knew. But then he wasn’t rising either. His immediate instinct was to bolt for the surface. Then he remembered her words.

“Breathe normally.”

He took a few deep breaths and felt himself begin to calm. Underwater sounds were different. He heard the bubbles. A sound which registered in his mind as something similar to a splash. He glanced up at the surface and realised the sound had been made by Natalie entering the water. He could see the small dinghy. Foam appeared to be coming from its propellers. Then is sped off. The two crew members in it circling to lay buoys to warn of divers in the water. Natalie straightened up in front of him. She waved at him and spoke. He couldn’t understand the words but took them to be.

“Are you all right?”

He gave her the thumbs up.

He wasn’t all right. He was hating every moment of it but he didn’t want her to know that. He took another deep breath. When he looked up at the surface again he realised they were deeper. They had been slowly sinking. Dennis glanced down at his feet. He couldn’t see much past them and the panic began to return. Natalie caught his arm and they slowly descended. Then at thirty feet he could see the sea bed. At forty feet the pressure began to hurt his head. He stopped again and put his hands either side of his head and rubbed his temples. It didn’t take the pain away. His ears were also hurting. Natalie swam over. Dennis opened and closed his mouth a few times, champing on his teeth. It did ease the pressure a little. Natalie pointed upwards at the surface.

“Do you want to return to the dinghy?”

Dennis shook his head. She asked again, realising his holding his head probably meant that the pressure was hurting him. She asked him again if he wished to return. He shook his head more firmly this time and to prove the point he turned and began kicking downwards. At sixty feet they touched the sea bed. Natalie went into a kneeling position, motioning Dennis to do the same. She checked her watch and the gauge on her tank. It had taken five minutes to cover the sixty foot dive. This would normally be unacceptable. It should have taken less than a minute. But knowing it was Dennis’ first dive and he didn’t actually have a PADI licence which meant that she probably shouldn’t have let him come, five minutes seemed reasonable.

’At least he made it safely to the ocean floor,’ she said to herself.

They were taking one hell of a risk. Checking once more that he was ok, they set off, swimming along the sea bed.

Always looking ahead Dennis realised for the first time in his life that there wasn’t really much life at all in the open sea. He saw no fish. No man eating sharks. Nothing. He laughed. Earlier he’d been afraid at the thought of sharks. Now he knew they didn’t exist. How could they? After all there was nothing to eat down here.

They glided towards what looked to be grass. Long thick blades of grass that were evenly spaced apart. Just as he thought it was strange the ’grass’ disappeared one by one in front of him and he realised it was in fact eels. They were using the flow to catch and feed on the rich nutrients of the currents. The current was strong down here just as Ali had said it would be. The silt stirred up in the current kept visibility down to five metres. Dennis found this reassuring, almost as if they were closed in, safe. Natalie pointed ahead and following her finger Dennis could see the other divers. The side of a ship loomed up from the seabed. His excitement quickened. This was it. As they got nearer Natalie flicked on her helmet’s lights. Dennis remembered his now and flicked the switch. The lights revealed more of the ship.

’It looks like a trawler’ he said to himself.

George was at the bow with Alex. Tom and Jack at the stern. Natalie took Dennis over the side and onto the deck. Dennis felt his flippers touching rope netting and he imagined himself getting tangled in it. He kicked with his feet, looking nervously down at the age old ropes, his flippers kicking up sediment. Crabs darted out from the tangle. Plastic buoys attached to the nets bobbed in the current. Starfish crawled over the deck, moving incredibly slowly. They all knew now that this was a fishing trawler and not the small freighter they were looking for. At the bow George rubbed away some of the slime covering the ships painted name. The letters S….H….A….H, some more rubbing, O….F….P….E….R….S….I….A.

The Shah of Persia, and beneath the name, Gabes. The ship’s home port.

Natalie peered in through the windows of the bridge. Two were still intact. The other had been smashed. Large shards of glass covered in sediment where they had fallen. There was nothing of interest in the bridge. The ship’s wheel looked as slimy as the rest of the boat. The other divers joined her in a group. They all faced her. She got Dennis into the middle of them and checked her watch. They still had fifteen minutes of air left but there was nothing more to be seen. It was an old trawler. It could have been on the bottom, ten years, twenty, thirty. It was a job to tell. She checked that Dennis could remember how to ascend. He gave her the thumbs up.

Slowly they began to rise. Dennis’ head still hurt with the pressure but he had got used to it. He was only reminded of it as they ascended and the pressure changed. At the surface six heads bobbed in the waves. Dennis spat his mouthpiece out, glad to be rid of it. His jaw ached, unaccustomed to the regulator. He opened his mouth to speak and a small wave lapped at his face and he involuntarily gulped a mouthful of water which made him gag. The two engined dinghy powered down as it reached them. One of the crew reached out a hand to Natalie.

“I think you’d better help Mr Dennis first,” she said.

The crewman reached out to the journalist who was still coughing.

“Throw me your mask first then undo your harness and I’ll pull the tank up.”

Dennis threw his mask into the boat. The crewman reached out with a pole with a hook on the end, caught hold of the scuba tank and pulled it aboard. Dennis held onto the rope that ran around the entire boat. The crewman positioned himself, reached out his hand and with amazing strength pulled Dennis out of the sea and into the dinghy. Dennis instantly turned around to help Natalie then stopped and smiled at her. She was floating on her back staring up at him. Her tank bobbing upended nearby.

“Are you all right?” he asked her.

“Oh yes.”

“You look like you belong there.”

“I do. This is my home.”

She was the last to get back into the dinghy.

Back on the main ship Hutchinson saw them climbing the steps to the deck. He left the bridge and descended to join them.

“What did you find down there?” he called to Natalie before he was even halfway to them. She was pulling on her hair to ring it out. Dennis made a comment and she playfully flicked the water from her hand at him.

“It was just an old trawler. The Shah of Persia out of Gabes.”

Hutchinson was carrying a laptop and he placed it on top of an oil drum and opened it. He tapped the left button and the screen came on instantly. He scrolled on the pad and clicked on ’Internet explorer’ He typed ’Shah of Persia’ into a search engine and viewed the results. Over two billion links for Gabes and Shah of Persia. He then defined his search adding ’fishing trawler’ and narrowed it down. Finally on the third page he found the link he wanted.

“Ah here we are. The ’Shah of Persia’ a 100ton fishing trawler. Built 1964, Nantucket island, U.S.A. Re-registered 1982, Gabes, Tunisia. Sank in mysterious circumstances with all hands lost, July 1983.”

Hutchinson clicked on another link. It brought up a free encyclopedia. He scanned the home page. There was a brief history of the ship originally named ’Wilhelmina’.

“It says here,” Hutchinson read from the page as his group formed a circle around him, “That the ship may have sunk in a storm. Although other reports, unconfirmed, state that it was involved in an accident with an Italian navy submarine. An incident the Italian navy deny happened.”

“There have been similar cases in Scotland where Royal navy submarines have snagged trawler nets and dragged the vessels to their doom,” Dennis added.

“Are they not aware of it?” Natalie asked, “The submarines I mean.”

“They wouldn’t even feel it. Imagine a 6000 ton nuclear submarine against a small diesel engined trawler. No contest. Submarines today are almost the size of a world war two aircraft carrier.”

“I didn’t realise they were so big. I guess you’re right.”

“Well whatever sank it,” Hutchinson said, “It’s not the ’Tangipito’

“No,” Dennis answered.

“That’s interesting,” Hutchinson said.

“What?” Natalie craned her neck to see better.

“The trawler’s last known position is given as almost three miles from here.”

Captain Ali was standing nearby. Hutchinson showed him the co-ordinates. Ali used his walkie talkie to speak to the bridge.

“Our position is correct,” he said, “I would trust more the global positioning satellites of today, this,” he said pointing at the laptops screen would explain why this shipwreck has never been named.”

“Is it possible that it was dragged three miles by a submarine?” Natalie asked.

“It’s possible but unlikely,” Dennis told her, “Dragging it any distance would surely have ripped the rope nets.”

“I would think so,” Hutchinson replied, “Well no matter. We can now mark the exact position of the ‘Shah of Persia’ and inform the authorities. Now are you up for another dive?” he asked the team, “Good. Let us move to the next wreck on the chart,” he instructed Ali.