Diving for Change

32-year-old Steve and his buddy, 30-year-old John, lived for their trips to Mexico. The two had met as accountants with the same firm. In a typical year, they planned three trips to San Carlos on the Sea of Cortez. It was the closest area to their city of Tucson, Arizona with decent SCUBA and sportfishing.

As they were going through some boring desert in Mexico, Steve gave John a nudge. “Hey, don’t fall asleep on me. We’re almost there, and I want to get the boat in the water.” The friends co-owned a 25-foot Parker boat which they trailered for their outings. They shared the debt, the upkeep, and the fun.

John rubbed his eyes and ran his hand through his sandy hair. “Yeah, okay. At least let me play some louder music if you expect me to stay awake, especially after insisting on such an early departure.”

“Fine, but not that metal stuff right now. I don’t need someone screaming at me while I’m driving.”

After just five minutes of Steve’s classic rock mix CD, John pointed, “Look, the water.”

On the left, the ocean sparkled with the mid-morning sun.

After checking into their hotel, they drove to the marina to launch the boat and take their obligatory arrival trip.

The friends had a system of taking turns being the dive leader, who got to choose the spot and take point under water. As it was Steve’s turn, he drove the boat, turning left after exiting San Carlos Bay. John complained, “Why do you always want to go to Window Rock? It’s such a long drive.”

Steve chuckled, “Last trip, you took us all the way to San Pedro, so don’t give me any grief. Besides, I like the underwater tunnel. At least the water isn’t too choppy yet.”

John rolled his eyes, “Yeah, YET being the operative word. Just wait until afternoon. We’re gonna get pounded on the way back.”

Steve sighed and slapped his hand on his thin blond hair and gestured around them. “Look around. We’re lucky to be here. We’ve got a week of adventure and partying on our terms. Enjoy the moment, friend.”

John scanned the bay, looking left to the sandy beach, ahead to the rocky coast, and right to the open sea. “You’re right. It’s beautiful and we have this great machine to transport us to such lands of enchantment.”

Steve laughed. “Who talks like that?”

John shrugged. “I do.”

Steve anchored the boat on the lee side of the small island, and they geared up for their dive. The friends always dove to the anchor to make sure it was secure. It didn’t take Steve long to find the underwater tunnel. They floated effortlessly, watching their bubbles hit the top and observing fish around them – mostly grunts – but also wrasse, angelfish, barberfish, and others. Steve led at a leisurely pace toward the open ocean.

John grabbed Steve’s dive fin to get his attention. He pointed in their current direction and gave Steve a thumbs down. He didn’t like the area to the south because they didn’t usually see much for wildlife. There were no interesting underwater structures, and the bottom was silty. Steve held up five fingers. Cinco minutos. John shrugged. After all, it was Steve’s turn.

After five minutes, Steve was about to navigate back when he saw the flash of a shiny aluminum can. He liked removing garbage while diving in effort to leave the place better than when he got there. He descended to discover the can wedged between a small bolder and something overgrown with barnacles and rust, roughly the shape of a box. Steve extricated the can and tucked it into his mesh collection bag. He tugged at the box-like item, but it was heavy and stuck in the silt. It felt like he was playing tug-of-war with an octopus. He grabbed his leg knife and scraped away at the front to find that it was in fact a wooden box framed with metal. He couldn’t pry it open. John approached, no doubt to scold him for the delay, but when he saw the box, his eyes grew wide. He also tried to move it, but barely rocked it, stirring up silt. Steve grabbed his dive tablet and penciled: “Try together, inflate and surface.”

John nodded. The two got their fingers under the box. When they managed to each get a hand under it, they both inflated their Buoyancy Compensator Devices (BCDs) so that they began to surface. It was tricky going, but they were making progress. Luckily, they weren’t too deep, or they would have needed a decompression stop.

When they surfaced, John said, “Let’s swim this thing straight to the boat.” Neither of them wasted any breath speaking as they floated on their backs with the box resting on John’s right hip and Steve’s left. As they approached the boat, Steve said, “I think I can manage to hold it for a while. You climb up and get some lines to hoist it with.”

“Okay,” was all John wheezed, panting from the effort of swimming with the heavy item. He helped secure the box against Steve’s body, attached his own gear to a strap they left hanging, and hastened aboard via the swim platform at the stern.

When John returned, he lifted his gear onto the boat and removed the tank from his BCD. He jumped in the water and wrapped it around the box, snapping it as tightly as he could. Now that it was floating, Steve helped him wrap the entire package with lines. John grabbed an oar. “I think we can use this as leverage.”

“Good thinking.” Steve pushed the skinny end of the oar through the lines and then John draping the other end over a fuel tank. When they were ready, he sat on the rowing end. The wood held as Steve pushed the box from the water, kicking with all his might. They managed to hoist it onto the swim platform, breathing heavily from the exertion.

Finally, Steve climbed aboard. He said, “This thing must be filled with gold or lead. Let’s see if we can get it open.”

John held up the hammer. “Good thing we keep tools onboard. Move aside!” He gave the box several whacks, but nothing budged.

Steve uncovered his ears and yelled, “I’ll grab the pry bar.”

He stuck the blade end into a small crack where he assumed the lid had opened in the past. John handed him the hammer. Steve threw his body weight into it and the blade sunk into the wood. After two more sound whacks, he leaned on the pry bar, and was rewarded with some faint, watery cracking sounds. John and Steve both got their fingers in the crack and pulled the lid open. It looked like it was full of muck.

“Dang,” John slumped down, dejected. “I was hoping for gold.”

“Me too, but don’t be too hasty. There may be something in there yet.” Steve reached in, glad that he was still wearing his dive gloves. He pulled out a pile of the goo and dropped it on the swim platform. Clunk! There was more than muck.

John dipped a small bucket into the bay and carefully poured water over the brown blob. As the silt flowed away, a very old-looking gold coin was exposed. It was a little smaller than a quarter.

John and Steve gasped and looked at each other.

“We’re rich!” Steve pulled his friend to his feet and hugged him. They both started jumping up and down.

John said, “Let’s clean the rest and see how many there are.”

By the time they were finished, they had 54 identical coins, although some were more worn than others. They had a square-looking cross on one side and an ornate shield on the other.

Steve took some pictures with his cell phone. “I’m going to text a photo to Pete.” He said, speaking of one of their friends in Tucson. “He can research the value for us.”

“Don’t tell him how many there are,” John added.

“Right.” Steve sent decent photos of one coin with a short note.

“I’m starving,” John complained. “Let’s go celebrate with shrimp and margaritas. Even if they’re not worth much, it was an exciting find.”

“Aren’t you glad I talked you into diving here?”

“Yeah, but you’d better not lord that over me for the rest of our lives.” He smirked.

“You take all the fun out of it.” Steve smacked him on the shoulder. “Just think, if this pans out, we can pay off the boat and do some charity.”

John smiled, “Maybe we can quit working and travel the world diving.”

Steve said, “I doubt that. Let’s just see what Pete says.”

The friends cleaned up, secured their gear, and headed across the bay to the marina. They were both exhausted by the time they tied their boat at their assigned slip. After rinsing their gear, they drove to their favorite restaurant overlooking the bay.

Within minutes, Steve’s phone beeped. “It’s Pete.” He read the message aloud, “You’ve got yourself an awesome Spanish coin there. Did you find it diving? I saw similar ones on eBay from $5,000 to $20,000. Enjoy your trip!” Steve clapped a hand over his mouth, looking around to be sure no one was eavesdropping. He whispered, “It’s not quit-our-jobs big, but it is pay-off-the-boat big.”

John nodded and whispered back, “…and that’s if it’s on the low end of the spectrum.” His eyebrows shot up. “Do we have to worry about having them confiscated at the border?”

Steve crinkled his nose. “I doubt it. They never search us for anything. Plus, I think anything found at sea is fair game.”

“They wouldn’t know where we found it. Anyway, I think we should catch some fish and hide it in with the filets.”

“Good idea! You’re up for the staying for the week though, right?” Steve’s nose crinkled again.

John laughed, “Of course. We took the time off. Let’s enjoy it.”

Back at the hotel, Steve took out his beautiful Moleskine notebook. He had been given the personalized black leather pad as a gift from his company for Christmas two years ago. Now, he kept it as a dive log, recording water clarity, temperatures, creatures seen and the like. He told John, “I’m not sure how much detail to include. I think I’ll just keep it about the dive for now. I can add details about our find later.”

After a week of fun, there had been many entries in the black notebook from the week, but nothing about treasure. John and Steve bought ice for the ice chest and hid the coins in dorado filets as planned.

They made it through the Mexican border without issue. “’Green go’ again, my fellow gringo!” Steve chuckled.

The U.S. border had a long line and John was nervous by the time they got to the front. They were pulled over for inspection. Of course, the man went right for the ice chest.

The inspector asked with his no-nonsense voice, “Did you catch these yourselves?”

“Yes,” Steve answered, trying to seem casual.

John was mopping his forehead with a shaky hand. He smiled lamely and mumbled, “Sure is a scorcher, huh?”

The man inspected several of the filets and then shut the ice chest. “Have a nice day,” he said emotionlessly and started walking away.

John’s mouth dropped open. He caught himself and called out, “You too.”

As they left, John looked at Steve in confusion. “Why didn’t he find any coins?”

Steve smirked. “I moved them. I know you get nervous at the border, so I cut slots in the soles of my extra flip flops and stuck the coins in. They’re under the backseat.”

“You sneaky devil. I could kiss you right now.”

“Ugh,” Steve chuckled. “No, thanks. I’m just glad it worked out. Now, let’s go pay off our boat!”