Free Tomb of Atlantis by Christopher David Petersen Page A

"miles to destination" registered as zero point zero miles. He’d made it. Excitedly, he looked into the water hoping to see something, anything. Unfortunately, all he could see was the sun’s rays penetrating the ocean’s surface, then disappearing into blackness. Undeterred, he continued lowering the anchor.
    Jack had marked off lengths in the rope with pieces of tape. Having passed the seventy-five foot mark, he knew he was close to the bottom. Taking the other end of the rope, he wrapped it over the strut that ran from floats to wing, allowing him to control how much he fed out the door.
    He watched as the hundred foot marker passed his hands on the rope. Moments later, the anchor found its purchase and held. As the plane’s momentum carried it forward, he resisted the rope as it pulled through his hands, over the strut and into the water. Slowly, as he fought the rope’s pull, the plane came to a stop.
    Jack climbed out of the plane and stood out on the edge of the float. He looked around and swallowed hard. This was even more isolated and scary than he ever imagined. He looked down in the water hoping to spot the golden pyramid, but all he saw was the darkening shades of color that descended below him. Jack listened intently. Aside from the subtle lapping of waves against the floats, there was almost no sound out there in the middle of the ocean. The quiet seemed loud and conspicuous.
    "Damn, this is freakin' scary," he said out loud, then added, "Well Jack ole boy, you didn't come this far just to get a tan. Your destiny is down there somewhere."
    With characteristic resolve, he stepped back into the plane and prepared himself for his next adventure.

Atlantis - Chapter 5
     
    "OK, time to get the show on the road," Jack announced.
    Standing on the edge of the float, he took a deep breath of air and exhaled his nervous energy. The previous half hour, he had spent preparing for his dive. Having placed a large hammock-type netting between the floats, he created a temporary platform to assemble his equipment onto.
    Not having tested the netting, Jack recognized a flaw in the design right away. With all his equipment assembled on it, the combined weight stretched the netting and its contents into the water.
    "Dammit, I guess taking a peaceful nap is out of the question," he joked loudly, breaking the extreme quiet.
    He sat on the edge of one of the floats and slipped into his wet suit. As he did, he began to notice tiny fish coming to investigate the strange new objects floating above their world. With the net resting in the water, he watched as the fish poked and pecked at the contents.
    Occasionally, he felt the fish tickle his bare feet as they dangled in the water. At first, he laughed and thought they were cute, but soon his imagination began to visualize images of menacing sharks pulling him from the floats. Sharks in the Caribbean are common and Jack knew that his fears were based in fact. In all likelihood, there probably was a shark swimming nearby, but the fact was, he needed to dive whether they were there or not. He had come this far and wasn't going to let his fears derail his opportunity. Quickly, he forced the unpleasant images out of his mind and focused on the task at hand.
    Having slipped into his diving gear, Jack floated in the water below the plane. Attached to his weight belt were his deepwater flashlight, camera, hoisting bag, rope and towline, as well as an extra full size air tank and a mini air tank called a "pony bottle."
    He put on his snorkel and goggles and looked down into the water. Aside from minute particles floating on by, he could not see the ocean floor. Without objects to gauge the waters visibility, he had no idea how deep he would have to descend before he would be able to see anything. The idea of diving into nothingness was frightening.
    Jack placed the air regulator in his mouth and took a few deep breaths. Satisfied with its performance, there was nothing more for him to do.