“Hey, I know. She was our guide at the Maritime Museum. Her name is —”
“Amanda Marsh,” Eddy jumped in once we were closer. “She was a student in my Archaeology Resource Management class a few years ago. Bright, eager … a lot like you.”
“She’s an archaeologist?”
“Yes, a maritime archaeologist and she’s working on her Master’s Degree — specializing in shipwrecks. You’ll be in good hands with her, Peggy.” I had a renewed sense of excitement when Eddy pulled up to the peer. Dr. Hunter and Amanda walked over to greet us.
“Well, hello there,” Amanda sang out. “I can’t believe it! Philip, this is the girl I mentioned a while ago, the one who came to the museum with her class. I told you I’d never met a more eager student.” There it went again … my face melting into ten shades of red.
“Well, at least you remembered me for something good. My mom and aunts are always afraid I’ll make my mark for all the wrong reasons.” Everyone seemed to find that amusing and suddenly the last little bit of worry dissolved. “Talk about weird though … I never thought I’d be seeing you again, Amanda.”
Dr. Hunter smiled. “One thing you’ll discover soon, Peggy … the world of underwater archaeology is very small,” he said. “In some ways that’s a good thing and sometimes not so much. It must have been someone in the field who let the word slip out to the media that we were off to find the Intrepid.” I could feel my face flush with panic.
“Well just in case you were thinking it was me, I promised you that even torture wouldn’t make me talk and I meant it.”
“I believe you, Peggy. But someone broke their promise. Now that it’s out we’ve got to get moving before some guy with a camera shows up and starts asking a lot of questions.” Amanda grabbed my pack and pointed to the boat.
“Follow me, Peggy, it’s time we board the Sea Weed.” I gave Eddy a hug, waved goodbye, and quickly followed after Amanda. I only got a quick glance of the boat before we bound up the gangway. It seemed pretty big … not like a ship or anything, but it was probably fifty or sixty feet long. It had two tall metal poles sticking out from each side with cables strung along them.
“Is this a fishing boat?” I asked.
“Yes, it’s a trawler. But it’s not used for fishing anymore — not since the archaeology department picked it up a few years ago for a good price.” On the deck of the boat I noticed there were winches, pulleys, and cables from the days it was used for fishing.
“Is that a fish net?” I asked, pointing to a pile of rope tucked under a tarp.
“You’re a curious kind of a kid, aren’t you? After that day at the museum, I shouldn’t be surprised. But I sure didn’t expect you’d actually take my advice and learn to scuba dive. You won’t regret it — I can promise you that. I’ve banked more than seventy dives now, and I still never get tired of going to the ocean floor — particularly when diving around sunken ships.” I knew Amanda and I were soon going to be good friends.
A few minutes later we were waving goodbye to Eddy on shore as our boat slowly pushed off. I felt a tingle all over as I watched her get smaller and smaller. Everything was perfect: fresh salt air, seagulls soaring overhead and squawking, the sun glinting across the calm ocean surface — and me, Peggy Henderson, off to find a sunken ship. I sighed, sure it would be easy sailing ahead.
When Steveston was nothing but a sliver on the horizon Amanda took me around and introduced me to the rest of the crew. Scott Robinson and Marnie Redfield were both marine archaeologists and worked with Amanda at the Maritime Museum.
“Hey, nice to meet you, Peggy,” Marnie said warmly. Scott gave me a high-five while he read out coordinates to Marnie. We then went to the bridge to meet Dr. Hernando Sanchez. Like Dr. Hunter, he was a professor at a university and was visiting from Mexico City. He didn’t look like anyone from Mexico that I’d ever met before — his hair was flat on his skull like he’d greased it into place, and his front teeth were rimmed with gold fillings.
“I am sure you are a good ‘leedle’ girl, but I told Dr. Hunter it is a terrible mistake to bring a child on such an important research trip,” said Dr. Sanchez. He spoke with a heavy accent, and when he said the word “little,” it sounded like “leedle.” My cheeks burned and I felt silly standing there with my outstretched hand as it became obvious he wasn’t going to shake it. “You stay out of the way leedle girl and whatever you do — don’t touch the equipment, especially the radio. And remember, this is no kids’ day camp!”
Jerk — I might be a kid, but I wasn’t a two-year-old.
“Now Hernando … be nice,” said Dr. Hunter in a chuckle that sounded a lot like my mom’s when she was trying to divert an argument between Aunt Margaret and me. “Peggy comes highly recommended by one of my oldest colleagues and a good friend. I’m sure she’s going to be a big help to us.” He patted my shoulder, while giving Amanda a nod. “Maybe Peggy should check out the rest of the boat.” Amanda urged me to follow her.
“Never mind Sanchez … he’s a bit of a control freak and has no sense of humour. Just do your best to stay clear of him, okay.” I nodded. “Good. It’s time you get a tour of the boat and see where we store our safety equipment.” I must have looked a little surprised. “Nothing to be alarmed about — Captain Hunter expects everyone aboard to be well informed and know what to do in the unlikely event of an emergency.” She sounded like one of those flight attendants who try to explain safety procedures to passengers too busy breaking out their snacks and new magazines. While I hardly ever payed attention either, I made sure to listen to what Amanda was saying.
“Why do you call Dr. Hunter the captain?” I asked as I followed her down the steep set of stairs into a cramped hallway.
“When we’re out on the water everyone calls him that. He’s in charge of the boat and of the expedition so it just seems fitting to call him Captain.” We walked down the narrow hallway, past the noisy engine room, a lab, and some private quarters. Finally we came to what looked like a dining area.
“Here’s the galley where we prepare and eat our meals. You’ll be expected to help out … just wanted you to know in case you thought you were on one of those fancy cruise ships with endless buffet meals.” She smiled.
Next, we came to some cupboards with shiny brass latches. “We keep all the life vests, the life raft, supplies, flares, and so forth in here. Captain Hunter expects everyone to know procedures and how to use the equipment. He’s been known to give surprise emergency drills so we all have to be ready.”
“What time are these drills?”
“Just like you’ll never know when a real emergency arises, neither do we know when the captain will call for a drill … so like a good scout, ‘be prepared.’” Amanda handed me a small craft safety manual. “Study this later. Captain Hunter is very serious about safety and expects you to know it by bedtime — just like the rest of the crew.” I must have looked worried. “Don’t freak out, and don’t hesitate to ask questions if you’re unclear about something.” It hadn’t gone unnoticed that Amanda said the word “crew” as though I were one of them. That’s when I realized that besides Dr. Sanchez, everyone else was expecting me to pull my own weight. I secretly promised right there that I wouldn’t let them down. And I was going to prove to Dr. Sanchez that I wasn’t some “leedle” kid tagging along who needed babysitting.
“Here’s where you and I will sleep.” Amanda pointed to two small bunks hanging off the wall. “And down there is the head. It’s finicky so make sure you never flush anything down besides the natural stuff and never pull the chain more than once.”
“Why? Will this place