Hidden Courage (Atlantis) (16 page)

“Eh, maybe another time,” he chuckled to himself.

A short time later, he landed on the single isolated runway of El Portillo airport. With little to see, he
checked the weather
,
quickly ref
ueled and departed to the north on his way to
Providenciales airport in the
Turks and Caicos Islands
.

The two-hundred and fifty mile flight between the Dominican Republican and Turks and Caicos would take him nearly four hours to fly, yet most it was within sight of land. As he flew away from the coastline, he kept his eye on land the first hour after departure. Eventually, the tiny spec of land disappeared and Jack was once again, flying alone in the middle of the ocean.

Although he felt apprehension, the inviting turquoise water, calm and serene, helped to distract him from his thoughts of isolation. Looking down, he spotted varying shades of blue that signaled the change in depths of the ocean floor. For a while, the shade was very dark and he knew the ocean’s depth was several thousand feet deep. Thinking about what lurked beneath the surface sent butterflies through his stomach.

Looking farther up ahead, he spotted the change in water color that marked the shallower sea depths. Looking down once more, he envisioned the landscape beneath the darker and lighter elevations. In only a few miles, the ocean’s floor rose up several thousand feet.

“Take away all this water and those would make some pretty interesting mountains to climb, I’m guessing,” he thought to himself.

The further he flew, the more the water color changed. Soon, he began to see the lighter turquoise color that indicated the shallower depths. Flying at nine thousand feet, he could just make out a sliver of land that marked a tiny sandbar out on the edge of the horizon.

He took out his binoculars and scanned the area in front of him. Sighting the small sandy island far in the distance, he guessed it was no more than a few hundred feet long. He considered making a quick landing on it, but reconsidered due to its remote location.

Entertained by the sights through the binoculars, he continued to scan the ocean’s surface, hoping to see some form of marine life as it swam below. Moving his view from the sandbar in closer, he watched the glassy water that barely shown a ripple.

He now looked directly below him. Seeing straight down into the water, he thought he could almost see the ocean’s floor.

“Man, that’s got to be pretty shallow,” he said, as he continued to stare through the glasses.

Suddenly, a flash of light darted through the water. Losing it momentarily, he quickly pulled the binoculars away and searched for the object with his eyes. Instantly, he saw a glow emitting below the ocean’s surface. Looking through the binoculars once more, he located the light and tried to determine its source.

“What the hell?” he said under his breath, puzzled by the strange anomaly.

Turning his head as the plane began to fly past, he had trouble sighting the object. Putting down the binoculars, he quickly turned the plane around while keeping his eyes on the point below. Now flying in the opposite direction, he picked up the glasses and stared at the light once more.

“What is that?” he said to himself aloud.

Under normal circumstances, Jack would routinely see flashes of light reflected off the ocean. Most of the time it was the sun’s rays refracting off the waves. On occasion, he would spot a piece floating debris, a subtle reminder of waste left behind by humanity.

Staring intently through his binoculars, he quickly realized this was neither a reflection by the sun, nor a piece of trash. The beam of light barely changed in intensity and never moved from its location.

“I’ve got to see this,” he said to himself, his mind now only concentrating on that single purpose.

He pulled the power and shoved the nose of the plane over, entering a steep dive, all the while never losing sight of the bright light. For several minutes, Jack spiraled down from his cruising altitude of nine thousand feet until he leveled out at two hundred. Continuing on past the light, he flew straight ahead, setting himself up for a water landing. Moments later, he made a one-hundred and eighty degree turn and cut the power.

With the light source guiding the way, he skimmed just above the water as his speed bleed off. Holding the nose of the plane high, he felt a slight bump, then another as the floats made initial contact with the ocean. Instantly, Jack felt the tug on his seatbelts as the plane plowed through the water, slowing it rapidly. Large plumes of water rushed out from under the floats, momentarily blocking his forward vision. In seconds, the planes speed slowed to a near stop and now became a boat. With a slight touch of power, he created a small amount of thrust and moved forward toward the light that was now less than fifty feet ahead.

Jack looked around him and noticed his isolation. As far as his eyes could see, there was only water.

“Wow, this is wild. Talk about hanging it out on the hairy edge,” he said to himself, now considering the seriousness of his activity.

With the plane inching forward, he lined it up to pass just beside the light. Looking down into the water, he could just make out the shadows that indicated the ocean’s floor below.

Jack reached into the back and pulled out a collapsible paddle. Quickly, he unfolded it and readied it for use. With his camera around his neck, he opened the door and stepped out onto the float. Holding the wing strut, he grabbed the paddle and closed the door. Slowly, he worked his way to the front of the plane where enough of the floats extended to allow him to stand freely.

The beam of light continued to shine just a few feet ahead of him. Jack stood on the float and began to paddle. Alternating from side to side, the plane continued its forward path. Just as he was passing over the light, he quickly back-paddled, causing the plane to stop directly over the light. With a few more corrective strokes, he now stared at the object below.

“Wow, what is that?” he said to himself again. “Looks like a triangle, sort of.”

Taking his camera, he began to snap photos of the strange lighted phenomena. When he’d taken enough, he recorded video, all the while trying to identify the object. There were moments where the water was nearly glass smooth between the floats and Jack could see perfectly through the clear water. The shape and color of the mystery item were striking.

“Man, what the heck is that? It looks like a hunk of gold down there,” he said to himself loudly, now growing excited.

He continued to stare at the golden light, hoping for better resolution through the water.

“It can’t be more than fifty feet to the bottom. I’m betting I could swim down quick and get back with plenty of air,” he thought to himself.

As nervous apprehension churned his stomach, he looked around him and realized the danger in attempting the dive in such a remote location.

“Dammit, that could be Spanish treasure down there,” he grumbled loudly.

He dipped his hand into the water and tested the temperature.

“The water’s nice… refreshing,” he reconsidered once more.

Suddenly, as he concentrated on the golden object, the beam of light instantly vanished. Then, just as suddenly as it was gone, it reappeared once more, shining brightly back up toward the surface. Something below had blocked the view, as it swam by.

“Whao! I ain’t going down there alone… not without a spear gun anyway,” he shouted loudly, his skin tingling from fearful goose bumps. “What the HELL was that? A freakin’ shark?”

Jack looked around him. His mind began to visualize hundreds large predators waiting beneath the surface. The reality of his thought sent a wave of fear through him.

“Treasure or not, I’m outta here,” he said decisively.

Immediately, he worked his way back to the cabin, avoiding eye contact with the water just below him. Climbing back into his seat, he closed the door and breathed sigh of relief. With one last look down at the golden light, he turned the key and the engine roared to life.

With calm water and no reason to delay, he simply applied full power and started his takeoff run. The plane surged forward and in less than a minute, the floats were skimming high along the surface. Jack pulled back slightly on the control stick and suddenly, he was airborne.

“Man that was easier than I thought. I’m going to have to do that again,” he said to himself as he climbed higher. “Minus the man eating predators,” he added.

Within a half hour, he had climbed to his cruising altitude and spotted land in the distance. One hour after that, he
set up to land
at the Providenciales airport i
n the
Turks and Caicos Islands
. With the approaching landing occupying his mind, the thought of buried treasure quickly faded.

On his approach to the eastern end of the runway, Jack spotted a tiny crescent-shaped
deserted beach, not more than
two
hundred yards from the airport. Ther
e were wealthy r
esidences nearby
and signs warning against trespassing
, but as he had done in the past, he
planned to quietly slip
onto the private beach
and enjoy a day lounging by the water
.
A half hour after landing, he packed a small backpack and headed across the airport in search of a relaxing memory.

Wading across the water to a sandbar
a hundred feet from shore, Jack
made his way
out to a
n area
populated with a few palm trees and many bushes. The foliage gave him perfect cover and privacy. He spent the day enjoying the wonderful surf and sand.

By mid-day, he grew hungry. Under the shade of a palm tree, he ate a peanut butter sandwich and reflected on the golden light he had seen that morning. With a knowing smile, he said to himself, “I’ll leave that to another adventure.”

Later that evening, as darkness fell, he decided to spend the night there on the sandbar instead of the airport lounge. With a full moon illuminating the bay and beyond, he sat up most of the night, watching the light refracting off the calm surf far out in the ocean. He was filled with peace as he sat, thinking about his life and his dreams for the future.

In the morning, the tide had gone out and the water that had created his isolation on the sandbar disappeared. The white sands of the beach spanned through where the water once sat and now continued onto ‘his’ sandbar, allowing others easy access to it.

As dawn broke, early morning ‘visitors’ moved through the area as part of their daily exercise routine. Jack was spotted, and before they could protest his trespass, he quickly packed his belongings and hurried across the sands under their watchful eyes and obvious remonstration. With that, he headed back to the airport.

Jack left the island early and was now on his way to the
Bahamas
. He was nearly at the end of his
Caribbean
adventure and had only two stops before he made the mainland of the
United States
. Having been gone for over two months now, he felt a bit homesick. Even though he was still enjoying himself and the thought of home meant hard work and school, he was starting to feel like a bum.

The flight over the Bahamian island chain was very interesting. They all were inhabited and even some of the vegetated sandbars had signs of life. About halfway through the chain, Jack was intrigued by the brilliant blue-green waters, the shallow bays, the sandbars and the boats that he watched as they sailed around them.

One sandbar caught his eye in particular. It was crescent-shaped and about 200 feet long. Unlike other sandbars in the chain that were closely linked together, this one was isolated. It sat a few miles from anything, quite unusual.

With his curiosity piqued, he decided to investigate at a much lower altitude. He descended from 5,000 feet down to about 200 above the water, and slowed to about forty knots. The winds were light as he neared ground level. With plenty of gas, clear weather and his destination airport so close by, he decided to test his floats and land in the ocean.