The Bottles= The Sixth Blog of this short story. [ 6 ]

      A new day dawned at the same instant a coconut fell from Bill’s favorite tree in his back yard. The morning light caressed the many mangos on Zack’s tree that grew between his house and the canal. Today some of them would reach full mature ripeness. They were the best mangos in all the Keys; it was whispered among his friends.

     Bananas hung full, ripe and temptingly, dangerously close to a neighbors fence five houses away. Bananas have a way of disappearing on Big Pine Key if left too vulnerable, too yellow ripe with in sight and reach of a friendly admiring soul that just happens to pass by at the wrong, or, right time.

     Coconuts however, were covertly gathered up out of yards and contributed to vacant lots or any place out of easy sight. Coconuts get around, seemingly, all by themselves in the Keys.

     Blue skies. Lime green water. A slight refreshing breeze from the South East. It was a day made for high adventure out on the Buccaneer Sea. Or at least the Florida Straights.

     The Holly Lynne was stocked, loaded and ready. Wesley and Junior had gone ahead and bought scuba gear on their credit cards so there was plenty of full air tanks on board.

 

     Zack was to start out in the Two Nickels twenty four hours from now. Larry was to follow forty-eight hours from now. The Tight Schedule sat in the waters of the canal, filled up and ready to go on an instants notice, but Marcy would only come out if called in an emergency. She was more into fishing than bottle hunting.

     Bill, Dennis, Wesley and Junior waved good bye to Marcy and Amy again as the lines were cast off and the Holly Lynne was set free from land once more, headed for the deep sea out front where legendary things really happened, in the past, and possibly today. Excitement, fun and thrills of many kinds might lie in store. Each man had his own level of anticipation building in his heart and mind.

     A tropical storm was south of Cuba and was expected to go rather straight to the Yucatan Peninsula.  Nothing to worry about there.  Another system was about half way across the Atlantic but did not seem to be building.  Now the sun was just barely above the horizon climbing into a clear blue sky.  It was as smooth as Dennis or Bill had ever seen it.  As they went under the bridge and looked far away over the vast water out front, they were amazed at how calm the waters were there.

     The Holly Lynne slipped along through the water with glee.  She really seemed to be happy out there on the sea.  Wesley and Bill looked everything over again until they were satisfied all was ready and in proper working order.  Junior stood by Dennis watching him pilot the boat out through the sea and helped keep a lookout for anything on or in the waters ahead of them.  As the miles slowly went by, the water became an ever-deepening blue.  Dolphins played along the side of them now and then.  A great frigate flew high overhead out to sea also.

     It was feeling like time to eat to Wesley when Junior yelled out,  “land ho”.

      “That should be it,” Dennis said. A key had appeared on the far distant horizon.  Mangroves could be seen but so could some tall palm trees. 

     Dennis called Bill and Wesley over to him and Junior. “As soon as we see on the depth finder that we are in shallow water we will anchor and study the place a bit with the binoculars. Everything is ready I suppose.”

      “Absolutely,” Bill stated in no uncertain terms.

     They were rather close when Dennis shut the engine down and gave Bill a signal to anchor.  The anchor splashed into the water.  It became eerily quiet.  Only the lapping of the water against the Holly Lynne was heard.  No wind stirred the water, mangroves or palm trees.  They were a long ways from Big Pine Key and so much farther from Arkansas that it wasn't even funny, or maybe it was just a little, in an excited kind of way.

     Just as Bill and Wesley were finishing getting into their scuba gear Junior noticed the bow of a boat coming out from behind the key on his left side.  It moved into full view slowly and revealed someone in it that seemed to be leisurely fishing.  It was a small sailboat and it had a set of oars also.  No motor could be seen on her at all.  Dennis checked it out with his binoculars.

     “It's an older man fishing way out here!” he exclaimed in disbelief.  “Now how in the world, why would he want to be this far out in such a little sailboat.  It doesn't even have a cabin on it.  It would be a hard two, maybe three day sail in that boat out to here.”

     “What's he doing,” Bill asked?

     “He's just fishing” Dennis returned.

     “Has he seen us?” Wesley questioned.

     “Can't tell.  I don't think so.”

     “He must really know what he's doing to be out this far all by himself,” Junior commented.

      Dennis took his fishing rig out and made it up.  “I'm going to fish off this side of the boat while you two slip into the water on the opposite side.”

      Wesley and Bill eased off into the water where the fishermen could not see them while Dennis fished off the other side.  Junior watched the other boat as well as searching all around for any other movement or objects on the water or land.

     He was not where the fishermen could see him easily.

      Dennis caught a thirty inch Scamp Grouper. “Who would have thought I'd have caught a fish with Bill and Wesley in the water.”  Dennis said in surprise as he took the hook out of the fish. Bill and Wesley pulled up on their side of the boat.  As they took their mask off and spit out their mouthpieces Wesley said, “ Now that was the wildest thing I've ever seen underwater.  That thing came zipping around under the boat to our side and almost got Bill and me tangled up in the line.  He was sure fanning the sand and you could hear the line singing as he pulled it tight behind him through the water.  It sounded eerie.  Hand me my diving knife Junior. I forgot to put it on.”

     “Yea.  Hand me mine too,” Bill said.

     Junior put the binoculars down, gathered up their knives and handed the equipment to them.  “See anything interesting yet?” he asked.

     “No,” Bill answered, “ there is a lot of fish though.”

      “Yea!” Wesley added.  “They are everywhere!”

      “You two go to the bow and look around,” Dennis suggested.  “I'll fish off the stern.”

     “Au-k,” Wesley agreed.  He and Bill were just about back down into the water when a clear, calm, friendly voice called out, “Ahoy there". 

     Junior was startled as was Wesley and Bill. Dennis calmly turned around with his fishing rig in hand and answered, “Ahoy there”.

     “You picked a fine place to fish.  I most generally catch a good one or two on that knob.  Where do you hail from”?

     “Big Pine Key.  We're aboard the Holly Lynne.  How about you?”

     “Live on that biggest Key there.  Got everything I need there.  It's a great place to live.  My boat is, The Key Clipper.”

     “She is a nice little day sailor.  Do you sail her all the way to the mainland for supplies?  It's a long ways from here to there,” Dennis said.

      “Well it just depends on where you're a goin’. We can make it to Key West in three days, Big Pine in two.  Key Largo takes us about three days also.  Marathon about two.  Now that's under sail mind you.  It used to make it in less than a day and a half to Key West back when I had the steam engine in her.”

      “Steam engine!”  Dennis exclaimed.  “In a sailboat?”

     “Yes sir.  I helped make that little lady myself.  You've seen the African Queen haven't yaw?"  Well we designed the Key Clipper similar to it.  A little wider, a little longer, added a main sail and a jib.  Even got a spinnaker for her.  Had a friend on the mainland that was a machinist.  He acquired the blueprints to a little steam engine and made me one for it.  So she was originally equipped with three sources of motive power.  Sail, steam and muscle, meaning the oars.  Used a lot of wood if we powered all the way to Key Largo or even Big Pine Key.  We used to camp on Baha Honda when waiting for friends or anyone.”

     “No motor now?” Dennis asked.

     “Oh yes.  It's a four cylinder Honda, five speed transmission and it will really scat.”

     “Doesn't that prop have a lot of drag when you're sailing or rowing it?” Dennis asked.

     “It does if I leave it on. Most times around here I take it off and keep it in a secure box on board.  I can have it attached, back on, and ready in less than two minutes.”

     Dennis laughed, “Now that is quiet a design”.

     “Works good for me,” the old man replied. “You gentlemen enjoy yourselves.

      All four of you.  Just watch out for Old Tom when you dive or snorkel.”

     “Who is Old Tom?” Dennis asks.

     “He is a big great white shark who comes around these parts now and then.  I never bother him and he’s never bothered me.  He does just naturally like to eat though.”

     Wesley and Bill were quickly out of the water.  The old man laughed and said, “Names Titus Bartholomew.  Come on into the canal over there and you'll see my dock.  Current runs from West to East through there, just so you know what to expect.  Stay near the middle and it runs 15 feet deep all the way through.  You'll see my cabin about the time you see my dock and other boats.  Got to make the rest of my rounds now.  Fine day for it too.  Just another calm before one more storm.  Always something happening out here on The Deep Blue Sea.  Keep a good look out.  See you later mates.”  The old man put power to the oars and moved surprisingly fast away from the Holly Lynne.

     “Names Dennis and thanks for the visit.”

     “Well want do you think about all that?” Wesley wondered.

     “I haven’t seen anything as big as a white shark except those dolphins,” Bill said in a low voice as he looked around.

     “He knows these waters,” Dennis stated with confidence. “If he says a great white shark comes around here now and then, I'll be one of the believers.”

     “We've got to be in the water to hunt for the gold,” Bill reasoned.

     Dennis smiled, “He didn't say not too snorkel or dive.  He just said to watch out.”

     Junior looked at the sky all around and said, “He spoke of it being just the calm before another storm.  I can't see a stormy looking cloud anywhere.  There’s only a few very small white clouds drifting along low in the eastern sky.”

     “Well it's a calm before another storm.”  Wesley smiled.  “He didn't say how long it would be before a storm comes along did he?”

     “I'll turn the weather radio up so we can catch what it says about this part of the Straits weather,” Dennis said as he walked toward the radios.

     “I'll turn my cell phone on and see if I've got another Cone report,” Junior said.

     “That's just for hurricanes isn't it?” Wesley asked.

     “It reports on tropical storms too,” Junior answered.  “It even says when a storm gets a name.”

     Bill asked as Junior studied the screen, “Anything?”

     “Nothing," Junior answered.

     “He's gone out of sight already,” Dennis said as he looked around from the radio. He cast his bait into the water off the stern of the boat. “Bill, you and Wesley tell me when you're done searching this location and we'll ease on around the Key.”

     “There's no need in looking around here,” Bill stated as he looked all around at the water's surface.  “We need to get in the triangle.  We haven't even found it yet.”

     Dennis’ rod bent down and he went to work.  A 20-pound groper was landed.  “Good fishing here,” he said as he put the fish in a live well.  The fishing rod was placed in its holder, the engine fired up and the anchor hauled in.  The Holly Lynne gently moved forward through light blue water.  Soon they spotted another Key to the south.  Dennis cautiously maneuvered around the south west side of the key the old man had disappeared around. His depth finder showed a sudden drop off in the floor.

     “Third island on the far distant horizon in the east, southeast,” Junior called out to them all.

     “How deep is it here Dennis,” Bill question?

     “Deep.  It dropped from 20 feet to 50 almost immediately and has steadily dropped to 150 now.  Still dropping too.”

     Wesley looked around; “This water sure looks blue here.”

     Junior turned and reported again, “Some kind of fish is breaking the surface out there, between us and that last Key I spotted.”

     Dennis suggested, “Bill, Wesley, get your fishing poles baited up to cast out when we get close to them.  Might as well fish if you're not going to dive.”

     Wesley laughed, “I'll fish while we are moving but I'm going to dive too.”

     “Oh I'm going to dive more too, when we find Snow Top,” Bill said.

      Eight minutes passed as the Holly Lynne eased through the calm waters that lay between the three keys they could see.

     “Fish jumping just about 200 yards ahead,” Jr. reported loudly over the sound of the diesel motor.

     “The depth went to 500 feet but is coming up faster than it went down,” Dennis announced.

     “Fish in less than 100 yards,” Junior yelled with a bit of excitement in his voice, adding, “some big ones too.”

     Bill cast out far to the starboard side and said, “Wes, cast out to the port side.”

     Wesley cast out and as soon as his bait hit the water a fish consumed it and the fight was on.  “I've got a big one!"  he proclaimed.

     “Dennis!”  Junior yelled. “It looks awfully white out there just past the fish.”

     “Depth is 100 au-75 au-50, shutting off all power!”  Dennis shouted.

     “Fish everywhere but it is snow white just beyond them,” Jr. exclaimed.”

     “Full reverse," Dennis yelled. "Brace yourselves!"

     Just as they all achieved a good hold on to something and braced, the Holly Lynne came to a swift but smooth stop.  They had run aground on soft white sand that was only inches under the waters surface.  Dennis tried reverse but she didn't budge.

     “Bill!” Dennis yelled in a distressed voice.  “You and Wesley dive in and look her over on the outside.  Junior and I will check things out on the inside.”

     “Sure,” Bill and Wesley answered the call to action.

     “Man!  That came up fast.  Was going slow.  Hope it's all just soft sand she's on.”  Dennis talked mostly to himself.

     An hour later it had been determined that her hull was not damaged.  She was riding up on soft white sand.  The tide was going out and she was soundly aground now.

     

     Dennis reluctantly announced, “We'll anchor here tonight.”

CONTINUED TO BLOG SEVEN (7) BOTTLES

© 2011 A.L. Shipman, Jr. All Rights Reserved. Watermark template. Powered by Blogger.

The Bottles= this is the Fifth Blog of this short story. [ 5 ]

     The planning committee broke up after about two hours.  Bill called a place he could rent an extra large copier from. That night Bill took his old map of the Florida Straits down and out of the frame.  Just as he was making the last blow up copy of it Larry knocked on the door and Marcy let him in.

      

     “Hey Larry,” Bill said as he saw Larry's smiling face.

      

    “That old map is a good one Bill,” Larry commented.  “Fair details, but to really see the details around here you need a much bigger scale one.  You know like this one is 50 miles to the inch.  That collection of mine is 10 miles to the inch and has all the Keys, or Cays it calls them, plus each small island.  It details all the brights, sounds and bays minutely.  It's so old most of the names are in Spanish.”

      

     Bill looked at Larry in a stunned way and asked, “Where did you get a collection like that?  I paid a lot for this one.”

      

     “My grandfather had it and it was handed down to me, but no one knows that but me.”

    

     “And now us,” Bill laughed.

   

     “No.  You don't know it.  I may have been telling you a big yarn,” Larry laughed back.

   

     “I'd love to see it,” Bill confessed.

    

     “Why sure,” Larry agreed.  “If you want me to I'll go get it and we'll make copies for you, Wesley and Junior.”

    

     “Amen to that,” Wesley encouraged.

    

     “I'll be right back.”  Larry disappeared out the door and his footsteps were heard flip-flopping down the stairs.

    

     “Are we going to tell him what we're after? We are, aren’t we partners,” Bill said in a half question, half statement.

    

     “If his maps help at all, we owe it to him.  He is a generous man and we should be too,” Junior gave his opinion.

    

     “Aw, it ain't the money value of the treasure so much as the thrill of the hunt.  How we going to cash in gold shavings anyway, even if we do actually find any?”   

    

     “We'll just have to split the bottles up amongst ourselves and keep them as mementos,” Wesley stated.

    

     Marcy was quietly sitting at the bar writing things down with a smile.

    

     Soon the sound of Larry’s flip-flopping foot steeps came up the stairs and his smiling face was at the door. Larry's maps were truly old and it was decided that seven copies were to be made of each, while Bill had the extra big copier rented.  Larry laughed when he was told about the two treasure stories. “I'll sure take a bottle of sandy gold if you find it.  Here's my cell phone number.  If you need me and my boys to come out and help you haul it in just call.  Oh, by the way Bill, I can make a rum run too if you need it.”  Larry laughed all the way out the door.

    

     Bill grinned, “He’s got an ear perked up about all this. Wouldn’t of given me his new cell phone number now if he weren’t interested a little.  He’s been forgetting it for a month now.  He’s kept his old cell phone I already had the number for.  Different companies for different services and business I guess.”

    

     Zack worked all next day at the lumberyard.  Dennis was nowhere to be found.  Larry was gone up to Marathon. “Back latter,” was all a message said on his answering machine.  Bill, Wesley and Junior went over and over the stories and maps.  Marcy looked at it all occasionally.  At about two p.m. she said, “Okay, it's time for pizza at No Name.  You’ve looked at it enough for now boys.”

    

     “We should be able to see it if it's there,” Bill moaned.

    

     “A triangle,” Wesley said.

    

     “In the Gulf out back or the Atlantic or Straights out front?”  Jr. wondered out loud.

    

     Marcy leaned over the map and said, “Out front, out there looks the most likely to me,” she said.

    

     “You know, it looks like it could be,” Jr. agreed.

    

     “Na, not a perfect triangle,” Bill insisted.

    

     “Doesn't say an equal triangle does it?  Just a perfect triangle and Snow Top in the middle with the largest island to its north- north west,” Wesley observed.

    

     “Mystery close enough to solved.  Now it's time to go eat pizza!”  Marcie insisted.              They went!

     The pizza was the best.  Just like Marcy had said it would be.  They talked about many things but not a word was spoken about the maps or stories.

    

     There was nothing normal about the place they were eating in.  Dollar bills signed by the ones stapling them to the walls, ceilings, and posts were everywhere.  It was lit well enough, but still not too bright.  The bar was the only place they found to sit.  It had been a hard place to visit and talk at, but when the pizza had arrived they had not tried to talk, only ate and enjoyed. 

    

     As they came out into the daylight, the four thirty p.m. sun was bright.  Walking around they saw a few boats tied up over near the bridge that went to No Name Key.  A few thin small white clouds hung high over the bay water and Keys.  The air was fresh smelling with only a gentle breeze moving through the mangroves, palms, and over the bay.  A bald eagle sailed out over No Name Key.

    

     The tranquil silence was gradually interrupted by a plane.  It was an old bi-plane going toward Key West.

    

     “That would be fun to fly in over the Keys,” Jr. said.

    

     “Yes, but I would rather it have pontoons on it instead of wheels,” Wesley stated.

     

     “Have you ever seen a bi-plane with pontoons Bill? Not in moves but in real life,” Jr. asked?

     

     “I’ll have to think on that one,” Bill answered.

    

     “Jr.  Did I hear you say you wanted to go to the hardware store on the way back to the house,” Marcy asked?

    

     “I sure did,” Jr. answered.

    

     “We better hurry then,” Marcy stated as she started toward her Honda.  They all followed her closely, got in and were off to the hardware stone on Big Pine Key.  Jr. bought a canvas tarp and some rope, brass clips and pulleys.  No one ask why and he didn’t say except to volunteer the fact that he liked to see what hardware stores had in them in all the different parts of the country.

    

     Larry called Bill on his cell phone as Marcy pulled up to their electric yard gate.  It was half way open by the time Bill said, “Hello.  Why sure.  Bring it on over.  I’m sure Wes and Jr. would like to see it.  The boys just get back from Alabama?  Bring them over too.  Well, I guess they would be a little tired.  Just pulling into the yard.  Been out eating pizza.  Why you know that’s the best place around here for it.  Brought enough home for you to fill up on and you’re welcome to it.  Bet there will be lots to spare after you’re done.  Why sure.  Got everything copied and the machine taken back.  Pretty interesting.  Better come on over and look.  Sure.  See ya soon.” Bill flipped the phone shut.  “That was Larry.  He just bought a new rifle. A .17 lever action.  He already had a .17 bolt action.  Guess he’ll buy an automatic .17 next.  Him and his boys like to target shoot long range with them.  They’ve got an impressive collection of guns.  Can’t take the Alabama out of that family.  You can depend on them because of it.  He just wanted to be sure we were home and had time to visit.”

    

     Five minutes passed before Larry knocked on the door.

    

     “That’s Larry,” Bill said with a grin as he got up from the table where they were all looking at the maps again.

    

     “He always knocks like that,” Marcy stated.

    

     “Come on in here partner,” Bill welcomed Larry in as he opened the door.  Bill closed the door, turned around and Larry unwrapped the gun and handed it to him.  “Oh that’s nice, Larry.  Nice!  Looks brand new.  You’d never think it was used,” Bill admired the gun out loud.

    

     “Got a deal on it too and a lot of ammo came along with it,” Larry revealed as he looked at the maps on the table.  “Man, those copies turned out good.  Have you figured out where to start your search?  You know you might need some fire power if you’re going out on the high seas looking for pirate gold stolen from the Spanish crown who stole it from the natives who got it no telling how.  Now there’s just no telling how many curses are still hovering in the air over it.”

    

     “Don’t talk like that,” Bill insisted.

    

     “Just as long as they have no authority and or power we should be alright on that front,” Jr. reasoned out.

    

     “Here we are talkin’ ‘bout curses and we’re still on dry land lookin’ for clues as to where to look,” Wesley laughed.

    

     “Ain’t it the truth,” Jr. laughed with Wesley and Larry?  Bill just shook his head and looked admiringly at the gun.  The phone rang.  Marcy answered it.  Dennis told her about the big sale he had made on Key West and that three more well financed people had spoken like they were genuinely interested in buying some of his artwork.  “Things are looking better all the time,” he ended.

    

     Marcy invited him over to look at the maps.  He said he would be right over.

    

     Zack called four minutes later and soon all the small band of treasure hunters were at Marcy’s table staring at the maps as if they might see a picture of the exact island where it lay.  Zack was the one who drew out the course to be taken when they set sail on the quest.  Dennis said he knew the waters well.  Larry, Bill, and

     Marcy had been out that far a time or two.  It was a serious thing to venture out into international waters, but it had to be done if their search was an honest good one.

    

     They all knew Junior and Wesley were running out of time. One more week and they would have to head back up to Arkansas.

    

     Arkansas! That looked like a much farther trip back home, on the map, than it had looked on the way down, Junior and Wesley thought.

     

     All were given their assignments. That night they each had grand images about how it would go when they sat out on the top-secret treasure hunt. No, they would never have admitted it and especially not shared them, or the dreams they had in restless sleep, but they all had them.

     As high then night clouds swept lightly across the face of the near full moon that green gecko ate on one of Bills papayas that hung high on the plant out in the front yard. The gray iguana ate on one that had just fallen to the ground at ten thirty P. M. The brown corn snake was three houses down watching a rat scamper around. A crab crawled up and out of the canal and ate some breadcrumbs someone had dropped near the “Tight Schedule”.

     A brown lizard caught a fat tasty fly as the pipefish splashed in the canal near the bow of the “Two Nickels”.  A yellow tail snapper was eaten by a Jew Fish out in the bay.

     An old man sat in a wooden chair on his porch far out in the Straights of Florida on a Key he and his wife had lived on for many years. He smiled at the memories he was enjoying, of the Keys, of the Caribbean and of up far away from the salty water that seemed to lovingly play with his boat which was tied up to their dock. The sea breeze was kind to him. Soon he would be asleep too. The moon silently moved over the Keys and Cuba as that evening and morning became history just like all the ones that had come and gone before.

CONTINUED TO BLOG SIX-(6)  BOTTLES

© 2011 A.L. Shipman, Jr. All Rights Reserved. Watermark template. Powered by Blogger.

The Bottels= The fourth Blog of this short story. [ 4 ]

    


 Rain beating on the window woke Wesley and Junior early the next morning. The clouds in the East had finally made their move over the Keys and would soon be gone on into the Gulf.  Marcy had a great breakfast ready as they came out of their room.  She was setting out on their back screened in porch drinking coffee and eating. She announced loudly that breakfast was ready and on the bar. Bill came out of his room seconds after she said it. By the time the meal was finished and all possible sincere compliments were given to the cook, the rain had stopped and a beautiful sunrise came slipping in under the trailing clouds over the green tropical plants and the many shades of blue, green waters around Big Pine Key.  They took turns telling Marcy about the trip on the Holly Lynne.  She soaked it all in with a knowing smile.  By noon not a cloud could be seen and the Holly Lynne was clean with everything put away into its proper place.  Dennis seemed truly happy to have the Holly Lynne in such a state of readiness.  He was talking about going out and looking for Snow Top for Junior, just for the fun of adventure.  Even if the whole story was fiction, it would be a grand sounding reason to set sail out toward the deep blue sea again.

      

     Dennis was going to have to deliver a piece of his artwork down to a customer in Key West at about three p.m. so that trip would have to be planned for a few days ahead off into the future.

      

     Zack appeared as he came walking across the lawn between the yellow hanging buoy balls.  Dennis invited him aboard the Holly Lynne.

      

     “What are all of you studying on so intensely,” Zack asked as he came on board and saw the book opened on a table and maps around it.

      

     Junior spoke,” It’s an old book I brought down from home up in Arkansas.  It was in a boat I bought from an elderly man who lived up on Bull Shoals Lake.  It was the last thing he sold before he moved off out to Colorado to live with his daughter in Peablo.  He told me to take, The Old Girl, out on the lake and anchor in a secluded cove and read the books he was leaving on her.  They were in waterproof boxes and were mostly about the Caribbean, Gulf and the Florida Straits.  Three or four were on the Atlantic, Pacific and Indian oceans.  A leather bound copy of Treasure Island in its unedited original version was there along with other works of fiction.  All of Hemingway's works were there.  Books on pirate's true history and books about treasure and legends there of.  This is one of the books about legendary treasures called, Sea of Gold.

      

     Bill was becoming more interested in the story all the time and he said, “Let me read it to you Zack.”

      

     “Ok,” Zack easily agreed.  All set and listened closely for each possible clue as Bill read each word in his most detailed way.  Bill had just ended the reading when Amy called Dennis and reminded him it was getting closer to the time they had to leave for Key West.

      

     “Well me Matties, you can stay aboard the Holly Lynne as long as you wants to, but I've got to step ashore.  I'll see ye tomorrow perhaps.”

      

     Parting words were spoken.  Zack looked at the book and maps.  “That's quite a story but the locations are kind of vague, for obvious reasons of course.  Let's take this over to my house and compare it to a book I’ve got.  The stories are different but both have some similarities that intrigue me.”

      

     All agreed to adjourn on the Holly Lynne and assemble again at Zack’s House.

      

     When the re-gathering was completed Zack already had the old detective   magazine out and was reading it over again to himself.

       

     “What's it say”, Bill asked after a second or two past?

    

     This one tells of a man who hurriedly got on the train going up to Miami from Key West.  He got on board here on Big Pine Key.  The police and other law enforcement officers were alerted of his hurry to get on the train and leave.  How he carried two heavy looking bags, by the way he struggled with them, on board the train and insisted on keeping them by his side.  He walked the train from rear to head end and back again many times and seemed extremely nervous.  Nervous not just about the weather, but about someone watching him.  When the police detained him in Miami, the two bags were very light with only wrinkled dirty, sandy clothes and boots in them.  He was released after questioning.  Smuggling has always been a problem down here.  The next train was taken out by the hurricane in 1934.  The rails were never put back together.  Two weeks later a guy was found dead in the town called Flamingo.  He had been trying to hire a boat to take him on a short tour of the Keys.  He had no luck that, soon after a hurricane.  He was lying chest down on the sandy beach and had drawn a bottle in the sand and the word snow was spelled out next to it.  That is what made me see a little connection, and of course it all takes place in these waters.”

      

     Bill said, “Yeah.  A bottle and snow as in Snow Top.  You reckon he had found Snow Top and had all them bottles in them bags?”

      

     “Dirty sandy clothes in the two bags would seem to say so,” Wesley stated.

      

     Jr. added, “Bags looked loaded, heavy when he got on board and light when he got off.  Obviously he pitched them off, probably in the water at different places up through the Keys.  Yet the tosses could have been all in one place.”

      

     “That would have been some quick tossing,” Wesley said.

      

     “All in one spot could have been found by someone and all would have been lost at once,” Bill put in.

      

     “Could have been bottles in sacks within the grips,” Jr. suggested.

      

     “And could have been two or three smaller sacks in each grip or luggage bag.  You know, to keep the bottles from breaking on each other,” Zack suggested.

      

     “I wonder if old dirty sandy socks were found in the grips,” Jr. questioned.

      

     Zack read the detailed list of items found.  Interestingly no socks were listed.

       

     “We can look at it like he found some or all of the Spaniards bottles on Snow Top or only a few,” Zack continued. “If he found Snow Top, so could we.  With Bill’s diving tanks and Wesley and Junior’s snorkeling equipment more could be found.”

       

     “I've got an underwater metal detector that would certainly help cause you know lots of those heavy bottles could be covered with sand and or coral by now.  Maybe even mangroves have taken root on Snow Top by now,” Bill shared his thoughts.

     

     Junior ask, “Do we look for Snow Top first, or the tossed from the train east out of Key West bottles. There are a lot of miles of railroad to look at from Big Pine Key to Miami.  Open water and mangroves, and don't forget, he could have set them off at the depot stops along the way too.”

      

     “Snow Top is my vote,” Wesley stated firmly.

      

     “Yea, Snow Top,” Bill agreed.

      

     Zack looked over at Bill and asked, “Have you still got that old map of the Florida Straits hanging on your wall?”

      

     “I sure do,” Bill confessed.

      

     “Make a couple copies of it, and make one enlarged and I’m up for hunting for Snow Top.  Too much may have moved, covered or broken up the bottles along the old right of way by now and whoever was after the man may have found them long ago too.”

      

     “Dennis was right. We're headed to the deep blue sea again,” Junior grinned.

      

CONTINUED TO BLOG FIVE-(5)  BOTTLES

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The Bottles=The second Blog of this short story. [ 2 ]

  

     Big Pine Key was reached at about Noon. As they turned the corner toward Bill and Marcy’s road they saw Bill waving at them and a man was standing next to him. Saw a little key deer on the side of the road just ahead. Bill welcomed them and introductions were performed. Larry visited for a while then headed home.

     As soon as the unpacking was completed Bill felt the need to take them over to another friend's place. It was a short walk. Soon Bill, Wesley and Junior were all over at Dennis’s house. He was polishing on some granite to make a base for a stainless steel work of art to sit on. They got to talking about what it would take to make the Holly Lynne, Dennis’s lobster fishing boat, sea worthy and Coast Guard approved again.  After much talking, discussing, debating, a little arguing, they decided it would be worth it. The yellow painted styrofoam lobster trap markers were swaying gently on their black ropes which they were tied on the Gumbo Limbo tree limbs with, all over his backyard.  They worked for three days.  At the end of the third day it was checked out and declared ready.  The engine purred and the bilge pumps were strong.  The decks were swabbed down and all lights and electronics were working well. Fuel was hauled in, in 55 gallon plastic barrels.  Dennis emphatically stated he did not want to run out of fuel, food, water or lights.  Enough food was taken on board for two weeks, water for four, lots of batteries of all sizes needed for anything on board the vessel were stored in a plastic dry box on board. The last thing Dennis put on board was an old ten-gauge shotgun he said was fore sharks. He admitted he had never had to use it.

     Marcy and Amy waved goodbye to them as the Holly Lynne slipped away from its moorings for the first time in five years. Alabama Larry waved farewell to them from his second-floor porch and laughed at the thought and sight of that newly formed crew off to catch lobsters on the Holly Lynne with Captain Dennis. Deep down inside, where it would never show, he wished he were going along too. Those butcher cut rib eyes looked good that Wesley and Junior had brought down from Arkansas in ice-cold coolers. It was a slow and sometimes-tight squeeze out through the canal to the backwater bay witch was named on maps as, Spanish Harbor. As they cleared the No Wake Zone, Dennis picked up the speed a little but not nearly as much as Zack and Bill speed up there in the” Two Nickels” and “Tight Schedule”. The long wide black boat plowed through the water smoothly.  Dennis seemed to already have his old sea rhythm down.  He warned however that as they went out front it was supposed to be rough today.

     As they cross under the bridge it did get a little rougher but nothing extreme.

     The sun was up but still behind some low laying clouds in the eastern sky. An hour passed and land was nowhere in sight.

     Being out on the high seas made Junior remember the book he had brought down with him to read. He dug it out of his watertight cloths box and started reading the old book titled, “Sea of Gold”. He was glad he had brought it down from Arkansas.  It was about the Florida Keys from Key Largo to Key West. About small islands or keys un-thought of by most and visited by fewer still.  Some were described as having plant life on them.  Some were barren while others were submerged by only a few inches or feet of salt water.

     

     One such submerged island was described as only covered by two inches in calm waters. It was four acres in an oblong shape, longer sides facing the South, Southeast and North, Northwest.  It was almost perfectly placed in the middle of a triangle formed by three mangrove-covered islands. The northern most one was rather large.

      

     It spoke of how legend has it that a Spanish sailor had dropped bottles filled with sand, hiding gold shavings in them on to that small submerged island called Snow Top.  Jr. wondered if Dennis could find Snow Top.

     It wasn't doubloons but it was gold.   Even the bottles would be a treasure because of their age.  Dennis was a collector of old bottles found in the ocean and gulf.  They went as far out as they needed to and started dropping off their lobster traps.  Their yellow marker buoys looked good out there bobbing along the ocean's surface. Lobster, fresh lobster for supper perhaps or at least for tomorrow's noon dinner or supper was his desire.

CONTINUED TO BLOG THREE-(3) BOTTLES
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The Bottles = Blog one of this short story. [ 1 ]

The Bottles.

A Story of Florida.

     Wesley and Junior had spent their first day on vacation in Florida in St. Augustine.  After walking the streets and seeing the old Spanish fort, they ate in a little open street café. Bought some cigars and pirate souvenirs just before going back to Junior’s car.

     They were tired from the drive; none stop from Arkansas, but drove on so they could spend that night on Daytona Beach.

     They found a small hotel right on the beach and enjoyed a little swimming and beach combing.

     They took pictures of the wildlife on the beach. Junior got a few good ones including one of a seagull just taking off. Its shadow was perfect on the sand underneath it.

     The waves were energizing to them as they watched, felt and smelt the ocean breath in its own majestic way. Truly, the sea was first to be filled with life according to all accounts. If given enough time all the dust of the earth could return to its wet bussom. The ever-flowing muddy Mississippi must be a testament to that fact.

     The second day they drove down US One past the Space Center to Coco Beach where they stopped to see the town and it’s beach.

     Then it was on down US One, past Miami and finally to Key Largo for that night where the African Queen was on display.

     The next morning they toured Key Largo and at two AM cursed on over to Bahia Honda to camp out that night on the beach in its state park with a view looking out over the Straights of Florida. 

      They loved that night in their tent so near the saltwater and big open sky that kissed the waves on the Horizon.

      Day came to them on Bahia Honda after the most fascinating night they had spent in Florida so far.

     After walking most of the beach there they headed over to Big Pine Key to meet up with Bill and Marcy.

CONTINUED TO BLOG TWO (2)  BOTTLES




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