The Reef (33 page)

‘Roger, Gideon. We're anchored as instructed. Over.'

‘We'll surface within fifty metres. Visibility is good. Over, out.'

‘I wonder how deep they've gone,' said Jennifer.

‘Isobel is looking at the condition of the reef to see if the bleaching is happening there as well as in the inner reef. Or any other problems like another crown of thorns infestation.'

‘Maybe they can spot where the big fish hang out,' said Jennifer.

‘That's for sure. Trouble is, they move,' said Lloyd, laughing. ‘I've had people out fishing and I
can see a school of fish on the depth sounder right under us and they won't touch a damned line.'

‘I feel bad catching those big fish,' said Jennifer.

‘Well, maybe Carmel and I can persuade you to come sailing one day.'

Jennifer liked Lloyd and had confidence in him. ‘I respect your seamanship, Lloyd, but I'll have to work up to that. Does Carmel sail?'

‘I've taught her. In fact, we've been planning a day out with Isobel, Gideon and a few others. Some friend of Isobel's is coming in with a decentsized schooner. Very solid, stable boat. It'll be a fun day.'

‘I'll think about it,' said Jennifer, and meant it. ‘How serious are you and Carmel?' she asked, thinking how well suited they were despite their very different backgrounds.

Echoing her thought, Lloyd said, ‘We're very close. I think I love her. I mean,' he grinned, ‘How do you really know?' And went on, ‘We come from very different families. Hers is quite rich, I think. But she and my dad get along famously. What's really important is we like the same things, we're both really interested in what we're doing here. Like, my resort job is a way to earn money. Learning from Gideon and following what everyone is doing at the research station, that's our passion.'

Jennifer looked out to sea and didn't speak for a minute. His answer made her feel hollow and brought home yet again the chasm between her and Blair. Suddenly there was the welcome
distraction of the shark mobile breaking the surface of the water and slowly gliding to a halt. It gently pitched and rolled as Lloyd shipped the anchor and sped towards it. Once alongside, the hatch was opened, a line attached, and Isobel slid into the water, nosing the craft to the side where the protector buoys stopped it bumping against the hull. Gideon and Tony were helped aboard, both grinning broadly.

‘I guess we don't have to ask how it was,' said Jennifer.

‘God, you have to do this! Just have to!' exclaimed Tony, showing the most bubbling enthusiasm she'd ever seen in him. His face was one huge smile, his eyes sparkled and he seemed unable to frame the words to express himself. So he grabbed Jennifer and gently shook her. ‘It's bloody fantastic! You must see it!'

Gideon was unzipping the top of his wetsuit and shaking water from his silver hair. ‘It was rather good. The craft went well, thought we had a stall at one point when we hovered on the spot, but it performed well on the whole.'

‘So what did you see?' asked Lloyd.

‘You can see for yourself next trip,' called Isobel as she climbed onto the stern. ‘There are still some fish around. And up to twenty metres the bleaching is not so obvious. The deeper you go, of course, there's not enough light for coral. What's alarming though is that the water temperature is slightly up. Not good for coral.' She pulled her goggles off and smiled at Jennifer. ‘It's
very beautiful and we shall get you into my world one day. Soon.'

Lloyd was handing out cold drinks, Tony was taking photographs, so no one paid much attention to her last remark.

On the way back to the island, slowly towing the shark mobile, Gideon wrote up his notes, and Isobel, sitting on the bow, spoke into a dictaphone. Lloyd concentrated on manoeuvring the boat and the fishlike plane following in its wake like some strange pet.

‘I never thought I'd see you at a loss for words,' laughed Jennifer.

Tony shook his head. ‘Me either. At first I felt disoriented. I was worried I'd feel claustrophobic but it was like a surround movie, I was just in it. The oddest thing is losing your sense of what's up and what's down. That machine is amazing.'

‘Underwater flying.'

‘It's got to be the closest thing to it. Funny seeing how Isobel and Gideon related to each other. Different to how they are just around the place. I felt I was in safe, knowledgeable hands, that's for sure. I'd better write up my impressions too, before they dissipate.'

Jennifer felt left out and wished she didn't have such a phobia, if that's what it was, about the sea, especially under water. ‘Then I'll write up my impressions of
you.
Has anything ever made you feel such euphoria before?' she asked.

He lowered his eyes, his smile soft. ‘Being in love, I suppose.'

Lloyd handed Tony a can of beer. ‘Figured you might be ready for this.'

Tony took the beer and pulled the ring tab and handed it to Lloyd. ‘You figured right. Thanks.'

Back at the research station there was a group sitting at tables outside the canteen discussing the dive. Mac took Jennifer aside.

‘Your room is cleaned up, there's fresh linen from the resort and your gear's in there. I reckon it'll suit you okay. Keep your work space next to Rudi, your quarters aren't big enough really, and you don't want to be stuck in your room all the time. It's the upper floor so you have a bit of a balcony. They're really jerry-built so if there's a cyclone, get out.'

‘You're joking, right?'

‘Er . . . no. The main block of the research station meets regulations, but the rest of the buildings have kind of evolved, so they're not exactly legal. Tony is on the lower floor, but he's a quiet fellow. You have to share the shower and loo but it's just the two of you. You don't have to use the shower block the students use. Though that's where the laundry is – but I imagine you can send your stuff over to the resort.'

‘Mac, this is great. I must say it's been easier than I thought. Even Blair is being nice.'

‘Now this isn't a holiday camp, mate. You have to knuckle down if you're serious about studying.' His eyes were smiling.

Jennifer hugged him. ‘Mac, I'll do this. For me, but also for you. Lead on.'

The so-called VIP accommodation was at the end of the sandy ‘main street' that ran past the building with the labs, the student accommodation with canteen and amenities block and the section of small shanty-style cottages where Mac and Rudi and the senior PhD candidates were housed. Isobel had the best of the two double-storey units. The structure did look wobbly and, glancing up, Jennifer wondered about the strength of the wooden balcony. A flight of outside steps led to her level. The bathroom was at the rear with a clothes line stretched across a scrubby cleared patch before the pisonias and she-oaks rose in a screen. Being far from the students, it appeared to be a quiet area.

She went up the steps and found an open-plan sitting room and kitchenette with a bedroom and the balcony. It had basic furniture, bare floors with some rush mats, and split-bamboo blinds at the front window that screened the balcony from her bedroom. She lay down and stretched out to test the double bed and found she was looking into trees. Her bag sat in the middle of the floor. It was unadorned student digs, and it suited her just fine. She wasn't here to nest, or holiday. It was a place to lay her head, dress, and think a bit.

Dinner was a shared event in Mac's house with Carmel, Rudi and Lloyd cooking pasta. Isobel, Gideon, Mac and Tony sat with Jennifer in the living room and around the dining table. There was much chatter, banter, discussion and debate.

She drifted to Rudi, who was making salad. ‘Can I help?'

‘Don't wreck the system. It's a sort of roster or short straws. You'll get to clean up or take your turn in the kitchen next time. So, are you settled in okay?'

‘Haven't made the bed or put anything away as yet. And I love it. I guess I'm meant to be a poor student. I feel really comfortable. Happy.'

He smiled at her. ‘That's good. You need a clear head to think and write and study. Don't worry about all the personal stuff. These things have a way of working through the system. You have Mac and Gideon and Isobel on your team. You've got it made.'

‘And you, Rudi. I like being your neighbour.'

He handed her a slice of avocado. ‘That's good. Pop into the lab tomorrow. I'm finding some interesting results.'

She stayed up late and didn't notice Tony leave. She and Isobel walked barefoot back to their units. There were lights on in a couple of the students' rooms, some muted music in another.

At her unit they paused. Isobel's was opposite, Tony's lights were off. Isobel turned off the torch. The moonlight was pale, filtered by cloud. Mutton birds moaned in the distance.

‘As soon as you are awake, tap on my door. We'll go for a beach walk, yes?'

‘Okay. Great.' Jennifer yawned. ‘It's been such a wonderful night. I know we all have to go back to our respective families and lives, but this is so cool. I feel so . . . free.'

Isobel spoke quietly. ‘It's mental and emotional freedom. You carry it with you and so you make your life what you want it to be. Sleep well. Tomorrow – work begins.'

Jennifer tried to be as quiet as she could going up the steps so as not to wake Tony, but in the unfamiliar setting she tripped, cursed and stumbled inside. Looking at the unmade bed, she pulled off her clothes, grabbed a sheet and wound it round herself, turned on the overhead fan and fell onto the bed, too tired to bother with anything else. As she drifted almost immediately to sleep, the thought came to her that this was hardly the way to live or example to set for her baby. But Isobel's words about emotional freedom also came back. Jennifer slept soundly and serenely.

Below the Surface

T
HE MORNING LIGHT WAS
pushing through the trees as Jennifer rolled on her side in the unfamiliar bed. She loved waking with the light. Blair always insisted on sleeping in a blacked-out room. She stretched, realising she was naked in a hard narrow bed with just a sheet flung on it. Then she remembered her late night. She hoped she hadn't made any noise falling up the stairs in the dark.

Jennifer wound the sheet around her and stepped gingerly onto the little wooden balcony. Isobel said to meet her early, but surely not this early. Jennifer peered at the double unit opposite, trying to see any movement.

‘Morning, fair maiden, how did you sleep?' called a soft, amused voice.

Jennifer looked down to see Tony on the track below. ‘You're up early. Have you been for a walk already?'

‘Yes. I like this time. Making the first footprints on the new day. Are you settled in up there?'

‘I hope I didn't wake you last night.' She glanced down at herself wound in the sheet that trailed behind her. ‘And no, I'm not organised. Didn't even make the bed or unpack. I didn't see you leave the gathering.'

‘I made a quiet exit. I'm making tea – would you like one? Or a coffee?'

‘Tea would be great. I'll try the shower and change. Be there in a flash.'

He had squeezed fresh juice, the tea was made and the smell of toast made her hungry.

‘Can I scrounge a piece of toast, please? I'm starving, and I have to meet Isobel and I've no idea when we'll be back.'

‘I borrowed a toaster, no one is up this early so it's been handy. I even have Vegemite. Or a banana?'

‘Can I have both? Not together,' she laughed. ‘I have a good excuse to pig out.'

He looked at her slim figure, tanned legs in shorts, the loose T-shirt barely hiding the neat bulge of her belly. ‘Are you feeling okay?'

‘Doctor says I'm fit as a flea. I have a lot more energy now, thank goodness. Felt very draggy for a while there.'
Or was it depression?
‘Just as well,
seeing I'm embarking on a fairly big project. I was thinking maybe I should go through your, Gideon's and Isobel's notes for an overview. I see this effort as being more in the style of a journal. Like the old-time explorers and adventurers wrote of their travails on expeditions and such.' She bit into her toast.

‘Sounds good, better discuss it with Mac. And what about your honours project? You're going to have a lot of writing to do.'

‘That's why I'll do as much hands-on stuff as I can while everyone is here. Once Mac packs up and heads back to uni for the new term, I'll be on my own. Apart from some of the researchers. And I'll have a lot of long days to fill in.'
And I'll be back in the unit with Blair.
The thought depressed her for a moment. Well, it was still a few weeks away. ‘How's your magazine story coming along?'

‘The first article is about the endangered reef. It was shocking to see the sad, grey, lifeless banks of coral. I had a long talk to Rudi and to Mac and Isobel. Like you, I'll stay on as long as they're here. When the main group of people leave I'll go to the mainland. Seems a lot of the problem for the reef is pollution from the coast.'

‘Farming and developments. It's tragic knowing what's running off into the ocean.'

‘Rudi has found traces of industrial toxins in marine plants and animals. Amongst other things. His work is another story.' Tony refilled their mugs with tea. ‘There's a lot of confusion and varying theories over the crown of thorns
starfish and the future of the reef. Will take a bit of unravelling.'

‘So, Tony, what are your commitments?' asked Jennifer. ‘You don't seem as . . . sad as last time we talked.'

‘It comes and goes. It's easier to forget the wars and tragedy on the other side of the world when you're in a paradise like this. Or anywhere in Australia, for that matter.' He busied himself with milk and adding more hot water to the teapot, then said, ‘I'm coming to terms with things. Life doesn't always pan out the way you expect.'

You can say that again.
‘I hate people who tell you life is what you make it. You can't change fate and so on.'

‘Maybe you can't change destiny, but you can take some control of your circumstances rather than letting events roll over you.' He gave a rueful grin. ‘I think I've been a bit of a rudderless ship, adrift on the sea of happenstance.'

‘They say optimism and self-confidence breed success.'
Well, Blair says so.
‘I'm more shy, I guess, and I probably miss opportunities. So now you've taken back control of your life?' asked Jennifer, wondering if he was aware that she was just embarking on this process.

‘Subconsciously I made choices. I'm here, and not in the Middle East, for starters. And a wound is healing that I didn't think ever would.'

Before Jennifer could probe more into his enigmatic reply, Isobel appeared in the doorway.

‘I smell toast. Irresistible.'

‘I'll make you coffee. I keep some on-hand just for you.'

‘What a neighbour. Fantastic. Are we the only ones up and about?'

‘Around here, yes. I went to the beach, there's always an early bird or two about. And I saw that old bloke with the eye patch. He was fiddling with the pool pumps at the resort,' said Tony.

‘Patch. He's an oddball. They call him the resident perv, although he's more like the resident spy. He sees everything, I reckon – even with one eye! He always pops up here when you least expect it,' said Jennifer. ‘He gave me the creeps in the beginning. I think he's a bit pathetic now.'

‘Some of the local colour, eh? So, what are you two up to this morning?' asked Tony.

‘A small excursion,' smiled Isobel.

Jennifer and Isobel walked along the beach past the resort.

‘How well do you know Tony?' asked Jennifer.

‘As well as he wants me to know him. I don't pry. He shares small parts of himself on occasion.'

‘He referred to some wound he'd suffered. He meant emotional, not the scar on his arm, assume.'

‘He won't mind me telling you,' said Isobel slowly.

‘Oh, don't break any personal confidences,' said Jennifer quickly, thinking of all she'd shared with Isobel.

‘No, you should know. He doesn't speak of his love affairs but he did lose his heart in Afghanistan. He'd seen so much death and destruction he thought he was immune. Until in a hospital one day he saw a young girl, about six, who was badly hurt and orphaned. He said she just reached out to him as he went past and that was it. He met the old uncle and decided to help her. I think he had contact with her for nearly a year.'

‘What happened?'

‘She was killed travelling into Pakistan. He blames himself. And he misses her. I think he felt if he could help just one child, at least, then some small good would come out of the whole horror of that war.' Isobel lifted her shoulders. ‘But wars go on. Children die.'

Instinctively Jennifer folded her arms over her belly. ‘Poor Tony. He seemed uncomfortable about my pregnancy. Now I understand why. In comparison, no matter what happens, my child will have love and protection.'

Isobel noted, but ignored, the ‘no matter what happens'. She touched Jennifer's arm. ‘Your baby is a great gift. To all of us.'

Jennifer didn't understand exactly what she meant and they walked in silence, enjoying the early morning. A few people were about but as they neared the resort, Jennifer was shocked to see
Kicking Back
moored in the lagoon. Gordon Blake was disembarking from the little motor launch that belonged to the luxury cruiser. Spotting Doyley
unloading departing guests' luggage at the wharf, she went over to him.

‘Hi, Jennifer, how's it?'

‘Good, good. Listen, Doyley, are Fanzio and Holding back over here? I saw them with that Willsy guy in Headland.'

‘Yeah. They're not stopping. On some fishing charter. They just dropped off a new staffie. Don't know how come he's hanging out with them.'

‘Who knows? Maybe it's who you know. Just thought I'd ask.'

‘See ya, Jennifer.' He nodded at Isobel and started up the electric cart.

‘Why are you curious about these people?' asked Isobel as they followed the beach towards Coral Point.

‘Maybe I'm being unfair, but I just don't like them. Blair thinks he'll jump the promotion queue by hanging out with the resort executives, and when that TV guy was here there was a bit of a drama. I think it's strange the way they keep coming up here.'

‘This is a very beautiful part of Australia. So many people want to come to see the reef. Experience the idyllic island life, eh?'

‘So what are we doing at Gideon's?' asked Jennifer, wondering why Isobel had insisted they wear their swimsuits. ‘We're not really going sailing, are we?'

‘Of course we are, but it's work as well.'

There was no one around. They went past Gideon's house and saw the goat tethered out of
reach of the vegetable patch, the Shark Bar, and the shark mobile pulled above the high-water mark shrouded in netting and tarpaulins. The dinghy was tied to the tree, but standing at the edge of the lagoon was Gideon. A sleek sailboat was anchored next to him.

‘Whose boat? We're not going out in that, are we? It looks so . . . frail,' said Jennifer.

‘It's a lovely little sloop. Very light, very manoeuvrable. Sailing without an engine is a special experience,' said Isobel. ‘It has a shallow draught so we can skim over the reef.'

‘Oh no. Is this the surprise, a sailing lesson?'

Gideon turned and, seeing them, gave a salute.

Isobel took Jennifer's hand. ‘We've talked about our paths crossing, for whatever reason. I think you feel as I do. There is a bond with us, yes?' Jennifer nodded, her eyes not leaving the white boat that looked as flimsy as a butterfly perched lightly on the calm aqua water. ‘So if I ask you to trust me, you will agree? There is a reason I want you to take this step with me.'

Jennifer still didn't speak. What would seem to be a casual event, with some light-hearted teasing, some reluctance on her part to get into the boat, she knew had more significance.

‘Will you agree?' continued Isobel. ‘To do as I ask, and put your trust in me and let go of any feelings, any doubts, you may have?'

‘You make it sound . . . scary.' Jennifer's voice was a whisper.

Gideon came towards them. ‘Good morning,
Miss Jennifer. Are you ready?' His smile was gentle, his eyes soft.

‘For what?' Jennifer tried to laugh. Isobel had not let go of her hand.

‘Let Isobel show you. There are just the three of us and it is a perfect morning.'

They walked to the water's edge and Gideon, wearing old khaki shorts, waded into the water and held the boat as Jennifer and Isobel followed. A life-preserver was hung over the side and Gideon used it to pull himself out of the water. The sand was cold under her feet. The bottom felt like corrugated cardboard, soft, ridged with lines of the movement of the tide and waves. The water came up to Jennifer's waist and Isobel lay forward and stroked sideways to the boat, still holding Jennifer's hand as she waded slowly.

At the boat Gideon leaned over the side. ‘Put your foot in the ring, use it as a step.' He took her hand and Isobel put Jennifer's hand up on the hull, helping her to swing herself onto the boat.

Jennifer was shaking. There was little space so she crouched in the shallow cockpit. Gideon and Isobel perched on the hull, their feet on either side of Jennifer, who hugged her knees. Gideon loosened a line and the sail seemed to catch its breath in a gulping intake, then billowed out in a huge puff, making the boat slide swiftly forward. Jennifer squeezed her eyes shut. No one spoke and Jennifer braced herself, feeling the boat heel, terrified they were going to turn over. But the rush forward, the straining sails, the swishing water,
the sense of speed, compelled her to open her eyes.

‘Where has the wind come from?' she exclaimed. The water looked only slightly ruffled, the craft barely touching the water as they skimmed across the lagoon towards the wider sea.

‘You can't see the wind, but it's there. Like many things in life,' grinned Gideon.

‘Sit up here beside me,' said Isobel. ‘Be ready to duck under the boom when we change tack.'

Gideon changed direction several times as Jennifer began to relax in the narrow boat. Once she glanced up to the top of the mast, but mainly she kept focused on what was close at hand: her feet, Isobel's hand holding a rope, a shiny metal cleat, water splashing along the edge of the hull. She did not look behind, or to the horizon, but tried to be in the present, accepting she was sliding along the surface of the sea, blue water on top and all around, and also endlessly beneath her. Isobel reached over and touched Gideon's arm and he turned the boat so the sail luffed and they slowed as if the wind had been turned off. Swiftly he dropped the sail and swung onto the bow, slipping the reef pick over the side on to a sand patch. Gradually the boat steadied and stayed in place.