Journey to Atlantis (15 page)

IT WAS AS IF someone had lit a giant firecracker beneath the island of Thera in 1500 BC, and blew it up. The firecracker was a volcano, and it was still active.

The last eruption was in 1956, but there were always gasses escaping from the ground, which made beautiful sunsets for the tourists, and Thera had lots of tourists! You would know when the island was going to blow, they said, when the water started getting murky.

We sailed in at night, on the surface, without lights or flags. I wanted to make as careful a reconnaissance as possible before finding a place to sleep. Thera had once been a small island with a mountain in the center, like a cupcake.
Now it was a doughnut with a couple of bites missing, and you could sail right inside the perimeter and around the smaller pieces sticking up here and there. It was very rocky, but not like any other island I had ever seen. The sand was black! The rock was volcanic, with hard-packed ash on top of it, layer upon layer, which all looked like it was going to collapse any second. On top of that were built villages of shiny white houses, white churches and bright blue roofs, all lit up at night like candles. It was very pretty. There were no trees, grass or bushes anywhere, just jagged rocky cliffs, with villages clinging like bird nests. The bay was packed with yachts and sailboats, none of them sitting at anchor; it was too deep. They were moored to buoys linked by chains. The volcano had blown a hole under the water too, all the way down to 1500 feet! Was Atlantis down there?

We motored silently through the shadows and dark corridors of the island, between the cliffs and moored boats, until I began to get my bearings. Then, we submerged to two hundred feet and I studied the sonar screen. The terrain was even stranger beneath the sea. But I could only bounce sonar waves off it; I couldn’t get close enough to see it. Outside of the island, around the perimeter, the sea floor was only a hundred feet deep in places. We glided over it in the darkness and the sonar revealed some very peculiar patterns. I wanted to hit the floodlights and have a look but was afraid someone might see the lights from the cliffs, or from a boat. I would just have to wait and explore in the daylight. In the
meantime, we would catch some sleep. Before the sunrise I sailed to the far side of one of the tiny isolated islands, submerged to two hundred feet and went to sleep. I was pretty sure it was uninhabited because it was just a rock.

In the late afternoon we surfaced. I opened the hatch and climbed out with Hollie. Standing on the very edge of the little island, with her hands on her hips as if she had been waiting for twenty years to get off, was the most surprised and angriest woman I had ever seen.

“Who … what … where … how did you …? Who are you? And what do you think you are doing?”

She was
really
angry. Talk about a volcano!

Her name was Penelope Sargeant. She was professor of archaeology at the University of Chicago. She spent a lot of time on the island of Thera, she said, because her specialty was Atlantis. She had written a book about it. I had read it.

“You’re not allowed to be down there, doing that! Don’t you know you aren’t allowed … don’t you know it is forbidden to … how did you get here anyway … how … you … you’d better get the heck out of here before I call the police!”

Then Seaweed dropped out of the sky, landed on the hatch beside me, opened his beak and squawked for breakfast.

“Just a minute,” I said, and went inside the sub. When I came out, I threw Seaweed some dog biscuits. Penelope was still standing there with her mouth open. There was no one else on the little island.

“Did … did you just feed a seagull?”

“Yes.”

“But … wait … is that a submarine?”

“Yes.”

Penelope sat down and started rubbing her forehead. I wondered if maybe she had been in the sun too long, she looked so upset.

“Look, young man. What’s your name?”

“Alfred.”

“Where are you from?”

“Newfoundland.”

She peeked out from behind her hands.

“You’re from Newfoundland?”

“Yes.”

“How did you get here?”

“We sailed here.”

“Oh my gosh … that’s unbelievable … that’s … who’s
we
?”

“Seaweed — that’s him, and Hollie.”

I held Hollie up for her to see.

“This is my crew.”

“A seagull and a dog?”

“Yes.”

She started to laugh.

“I must be going crazy!”

Maybe. I didn’t really care. If she were going to report us, we would just sail away. But first, I had promised Hollie a
walk, and he was going to get one, whether she liked it or not. I moored the sub to the rock and we jumped over. There wasn’t much beach to speak of but he could run around on the rock. Penelope just sat quietly for a while and watched us. Then she got up and followed us.

“Don’t you realize it is forbidden to dive in Greek waters, which are all archaeologically sensitive areas?”

“Yes, but I’m not diving, I’m just sailing.”

“But you’re in a submarine.”

“So?”

“So … you’re under the water.”

“So?”

She took a deep breath but didn’t answer. Hollie found a stick and brought it to me. I pretended to hide it, then threw it for him.

“Look, Alfred. I’ve spent my whole life studying and searching for Atlantis. These are delicate places of great historical importance; you can’t just come barging in here like you’re some kind of treasure hunter, and disturb the sites.”

“I’m not a treasure-hunter, and I’m not disturbing the sites.”

“Then what are you?”

“An explorer.”

“Oh.”

She was quiet again for a while. I could tell she was thinking really hard about something.

“What are you exploring for, Alfred?”

“Lots of things. I just love exploring. Right now I’m looking for Atlantis.”

“So you
are
looking for Atlantis? You can’t just jump into the water and go looking for Atlantis. You have to study it. It’s very, very complicated. There are centuries of information to go through. There are theories, scientific evidence and archaeological sites to consider.”

“I know.”

“What do you mean, you know? How old are you?”

“Fifteen.”

“You’re fifteen? And you’ve sailed across the world in a submarine?”

“I’ve studied too.”

“Oh?
Have
you? Which universities have you attended?”

Penelope was starting to bug me.

“Well? Answer me. What studying have you done?”

I felt like telling her I had read her book and that it wasn’t any good.

“I’m an explorer, not an archaeologist.”

I also felt like pointing out that she and I were standing in the same place, but that should have been obvious to her.

“Look. Alfred. Just by coming through here with your submarine you might have disturbed the delicate balance of things under the water. There’s a huge mound of broken houses and pottery and sunken statues just offshore in shallower waters.”

“Rows, actually.”

“No, it’s a big mound.”

“There isn’t one big mound, just a bunch of smaller rows, like waves.”

“Excuse me. It clearly says in my texts that the shallower waters outside of Thera contain a large mound of ancient debris,
not rows
! I think I know what I’m talking about!”

I stared at her. She was probably fifty years old. She looked kind of old and young at the same time. She was lean, had long dark hair with gray streaks, very tanned skin and lots of wrinkles. She had a friendly face, actually, but looked sort of burnt out, as if her many years of searching for Atlantis had exhausted her. Now she was arguing with me about something I had just seen, which she had only read about in a book. There was something so pointless about it all.

“Okay.”

“You see? It’s just one large mound. Right?”

“Yup.”

“Good.”

Whatever. After Hollie had a good run-around we headed back to the sub. Penelope just stood there and watched us go, but she looked upset. She seemed to have a painful argument going on inside her head. She looked so alone on the little island, just her and her research. I felt kind of sorry for her.

“Good luck!” I called out, as we climbed into the sub.

She stared without answering. I even wondered if she were going to cry.

“Wait!” she hollered.

I poked my head up from the portal.

“Yah?”

“Ummm, you sailed from Newfoundland, right?”

“Right.”

“So, your submarine is safe, right?”

“Right.”

She came over, looked around to see if anyone was watching — took several deep breaths and …

“I’m
really
not supposed to do this but do you think maybe you could give me a ride?”

I TOOK PENELOPE down to a hundred and fifty feet and made her a cup of tea. She settled on a pillow beside the observation window. Hollie sat beside her and looked up at her wistfully, but she wasn’t too interested in him. We cruised outside the perimeter of Thera, hovering between one hundred and three hundred feet. Once we were under water Penelope seemed to forget completely about the rule of no diving in the Greek islands. And it was a little like taking your teacher out to play — she was bossy!

“Go here, Alfred! Go here! Go over there! Go up here! Go down there! Stop here! Go back! Go
back
!!”

At one point, she even reached for the controls, but I blocked her.

“You’d better not do that,” I said. “It’s not as easy as it looks.”

As wild as Thera looked above water, it was stranger underneath. There were deep holes in the sea floor caused by volcanic eruptions. The holes were surrounded by perfectly round rings of soil, like giant ant holes — their centers disappearing into who knows where. Besides the rings of soil were long rows of debris, like huge waves in a city dump. It was exciting, for sure, but it really did look like a dump. It might have been a dump from the amazing city of Atlantis … but it was still a dump. I couldn’t imagine anyone digging this stuff up and sorting through it. It would take hundreds of years! But that’s exactly where Penelope got really excited.

“Oh my gosh! Look at that! Oh! Look! There’s an urn! Stop! Alfred! Stop! There’s an urn! Wait! What’s that? Is that a boat? Alfred, is that a boat? How old do you suppose it is?”

“I don’t know. Could be fifty years old. Could be five hundred. It’s hard to tell.”

“Hmm … what’s that?”

I stared down through the observation window.

“Looks like a big plate.”

“What do you think it’s made of?”

“I don’t know. It’s hard to say. When things have been on the bottom for a while they get covered with sea muck and you can’t even tell if they’re made of metal or wood.”

“I think it’s made of metal. Look.”

I looked again. It looked like a plastic saucer I used to slide down the hill with when I was little. Penelope’s eyes grew wider.

“It looks like a shield to me.”

I didn’t think it was a shield.

“I think it’s a shield, Alfred. Oh, my gosh!”

“Umm … I don’t think …”

“Do you have any idea how important that would be?”

“Yes, but …”

“Oh! Alfred, is there any way you can pick up things with your submarine?”

“No.”

“Shoot!”

I took a deep breath. I didn’t know if it were a good idea or not, but …

“But I can dive down there. It’s just a hundred feet.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean: I can free-dive to a hundred feet.”

“You mean … you can
swim
down there?”

“Yes.”

“But it’s so far.”

“I know, but I can. But we’re not supposed to touch anything.”

“I know, I know, but maybe you could just swim down and take a closer look at that shield. Maybe you could very gently turn it over.”

I had to confess, the thought that it might be an ancient shield
was
pretty exciting, although if I had been listening to my own gut feeling then I wouldn’t have gone down. But Penelope was absolutely convinced it was an important find. I brought the sub awash, the portal sticking up just a foot above the surface. Even like that we were risking being spotted by someone from the cliffs. I climbed out, did my deep breathing and went down.

The water was clear and beautiful. I was surprised how easy it was to reach one hundred feet. Sponge diving with Omar had improved my skills. I found the round object and pulled it free. It was made of metal for sure but was very light. I didn’t think it was a shield. I looked up at the sub but couldn’t see Penelope in the observation window. Back on the surface she stuck her head out the portal.

“Why don’t you just bring it up so we can have a look at it, Alfred? Then we’ll put it back.”

So, I went back down, grabbed it and brought it up. I was pretty sure it was a plate. Penelope reached down and took it from me as I climbed up. Very excitedly, she rubbed the sea muck off it.

“You were right, Alfred, it’s a plate. But look, it’s cut in relief. There are figures of warriors fighting. Look! A bull! That means it’s Minoan. The bull is a symbol of the Minoan civilization.”

“How old do you think it is?”

“I don’t know. If it’s made of bronze, then it’s very old.
But it seems too light to be bronze. It might be brass. Oh, wait! There’s a stamp.”

“A stamp? What does it say?”

Penelope squinted.

“Wait. I need my glasses.”

She pulled old-fashioned glasses out of her shirt pocket and read the stamp and burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

“It says, ‘Made in China.’”

“Oh.”

“It probably just fell off a cruise ship.”

Penelope handed the plate back to me, meaning, I guessed, that I should get rid of it. Well, I wasn’t going to swim down and put it back exactly where it had been, if it was worthless, although maybe in a thousand years it would be valuable, and people would be amazed that it came all the way from China. I tossed it into the sea and watched it sink. Penelope’s mood changed.

“Oh, well, that was silly. I’m surprised at myself for getting so worked up. It’s going to be dark soon. Do you think you could take me back to where I was?”

“Sure.”

So, we went back down. Penelope took her seat at the observation window again. A few minutes later she saw something else.

“Alfred?”

“Yah?”

“Can you come and look at this?”

I stopped the sub. She was pointing at something and her face looked shocked. I came over.

“What,” she said, “do you suppose
that
is?”

I took a peek.

“It looks like an arm to me.”

“It is, isn’t it?”

She looked up at me like a child who really wanted something.

“Do you think you could dive down and take a look?”

I stared at the arm sticking up from the bottom. It looked kind of creepy. But I was curious too.

“Yah, I guess so.”

We surfaced and I went down. It was getting dark so I brought a waterproof flashlight. At first I couldn’t find the arm, and then there it was, as if it were reaching up to grab me. I touched it. It felt like stone. I moved some of the debris away from it. The arm was connected to a head and part of a torso. I tried to get a good look but had to surface.

“Well?” said Penelope.

“It’s part of a statue.”

“Does it seem really old?”

“Yah, I think so.”

“Oh my gosh!”

“I’ll go back down.”

This time I got a pretty good look at the face. It was a beautiful young woman. She was probably made of marble
or something like that. There was just the upper part of the body, and only one arm. I felt around for other pieces but didn’t find any. I had to surface.

“Well? Well? What did you see?”

I described everything.

“Could you lift it?”

“No way, it’s too heavy. You would have to raise it with a rope.”

Penelope looked all around the sub. “Do … you …
have
a rope?”

So I went back down with a rope, tied it around the broken torso and swam back up. Carefully, we raised it. I did the pulling and Penelope wrapped the rope around the portal, in case it slipped from my hands. For only part of a statue, it was really heavy. When we brought it alongside the sub, it was almost dark. Penelope was extremely excited. She clapped her hands together.

“Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh!”

“Shhhhhh!”

I wanted her to be quiet because people might hear us on the water.

“I’m sorry! I’m just so excited. Oh my gosh, it’s ancient! I can’t believe it!”

We raised the statue out of the water but it would not fit through the portal.

“Quick, Alfred! Take me back to the little island. I will say I found it there.”

“Really? But that’s just a rock. How will you explain how it got there?”

“There’s a little sandy spot on one side. I’ll say I found it there, just under the water. I’ll say … I stumbled on it there.”

It was completely dark when we returned to the spot where I first met Penelope. It took both of us to carry the statue and put it down on the little sandy spot. Then it seemed to take forever to position it so that it looked like Penelope had just found it. If ever there was a time that I felt like a real outlaw … this was it.

Penelope was all over the statue like a dog with a bone. She seemed to forget I was even there.

“Do you think it might be from Atlantis?” I asked.

“What? Oh … maybe. It’s
very
beautiful, isn’t it? We don’t have any statues of this size from the Minoan period, only frescoes. If it
is
Minoan, well, then, maybe it could be from Atlantis. We’ll have to date it of course, and …”

She drifted away in thought. It was time for us to leave. I didn’t want to get caught. I coaxed Seaweed onto the sub.

“I think we’re going to go now.”

I wasn’t sure if she had heard me. “Good luck!” I called out.

“What? Oh. Oh, good luck, Alfred! Happy sailing! Thank you! Thank you!”

“You’re welcome.”

I wondered if she had really found a piece of Atlantis. I knew one thing for sure: if the sea beneath Thera
were
the
ancient site of Atlantis, it was now nothing but a dump. And it would take a lot more than a few archaeologists to reconstruct it. As Penelope disappeared into the dark, we waved one last time. I couldn’t help wondering if being a professor of archaeology was not really her thing. Maybe she should have been a treasure hunter.