A Wave of Change

It's crazy how her body felt so warm and so cool at the same time. This was her first time on the open sea, and she had never felt this sensation before. Above her, the beaming Caribbean sun heated her skin. From the bow of the small sailboat, the northern wind cooled her, almost to a chill. It reminded her of the hot peach cobbler and ice cream she loved to eat back home.

"Drop anchor! We're here!" Donny shouted his commands, even though it was just the two of them and the boat was no bigger than 15-feet long. She found his enthusiasm charming.

"I said drop anchor, Penelope! What are you doing?!" He yelled, before tossing the tiny anchor overboard himself. She silently chuckled at his impatience. Tranquility, she thought. Ha.

Although, despite Donny's outburst, the sea was peaceful indeed. For what seemed to be the first time in Penelope's life, her anxiety seemed to crumble away. Like a sandcastle on the shore, wave by wave, it grew smaller and smaller.

"Yeah, this is definitely it. Look." He pulled out a tiny, black notebook, small enough to fit in the palm of a large person's hand entirely. Donny was pretty slender though, so the book seemed to fit him well.

"Tortuga and Megan, right in between.

A coral of yellow, algae of green.

There be a spot, deep in the sand:

A treasure too special to be trusted on land.

This has to be it. You see that palm tree over there?" Penelope hadn't even noticed until he asked her, but they were closer to a beach than she realized.

"That's the Isle of Thibodeau, but was originally named Tortuga. It was changed only like 60 years ago. But this journal," he showed her excitedly, "this journal is obviously way older than that. Probably two-hundred years, at least!" To be fair: it was a pretty old-looking booklet. Penelope seriously doubted Donny's claim of its age but cared too little to argue. Again, his enthusiasm was beaming, and it made her happy just to see him so excited.

"That's great, Donny! And I guess that's the other one over there?" She gestured to Megan Island, which she now remembered had a reputation for the best coladas in the area.

"Aye, aye, first mate!" He was seeming more giddy than usual.

"Okay, so what's the deal? You're going swimming looking for treasure?"

"We are looking for treasure!" He said, as he hurriedly stowed the sails. If it were anyone else, any other place, for any other reason, she knew she would be annoyed. However, it's pretty hard to be anything but blissful when you are surrounded on every side by water as clear as glass. She didn't even contest him. A swim sounded nice right about now.

They both leaped into the embrace of the ocean. A jetting grip seized her body, and then slowly faded as she adjusted. In just a few moments, the water felt incredible. For a little while, they just treaded water, looking at each other. A smile overtook both of them, which turned into quiet laughter. No matter how long you spend in this place, you never fully accept it. The atmosphere is just too surreal. They finally gathered themselves and swam down.

From the surface to the bottom was about four or five body lengths. Still, she could make out particles floating within the water, tiny fish picking up and spitting out rocks on the floor, and the glistening light from the sun dancing across the sand. It looked like another surface of water, another border between the air and the sea, was beneath her, which gave her a slight tickle in her belly as the thought was dizzying.

The work to plunge was unexpectedly difficult. Because of the intensity of the salt in the water, her body was far more buoyant than normal, forcing her upward. She had to really propel herself with kicks and pulls. By the time she reached the bottom, she had worked so hard that she already ran out of breath. She reoriented herself and found it far easier to swim upwards.

Penelope broke the surface, wiped her eyes, and slicked her auburn hair back. Warm again. Smiling again. If someone would have asked her a year ago what she'd be doing today, treasure diving in the Caribbean Sea would not have been her first guess. Once her racing heart subsided back to normal, she took a big breath and made her way back down.

She could see Donny was walking along the sand of the floor with some large dark object hoisted between his two hands. As she approached she tried to make out what it was. She could see it clearly, that wasn't the issue. But her brain just couldn't process the physics of what her eyes were seeing. It looked very heavy by the way he was gripping it, but the gait of his walk seemed so effortless. Finally, he dropped it at his feet and rocketed towards the surface with no effort at all.

Ah, clever, she thought, as she picked up the rock he had left behind. The weight kept her secure enough to the floor that she wasn't using all of her stamina to stay submerged. Finally, the search could begin.

She was surprised at her vast improvement in endurance using this weighted method. It also felt like the immense pressure from the depth made her breath last longer somehow. Still, her breath was waning, so she decided to take one last look. Her view was mesmerizing.

Schools of fish, in every color imaginable; some fish had no color at all and were transparent. She could see the tiny food in their minuscule bellies. The water nearest her was as clear as the air, but the further she peered, the darker blue the water became. It created a hazy effect that made her world, which had just felt so infinitely grand, seem small enough that she could see the whole thing, all at once, right before her eyes. Nothing else seemed to exist. She glanced down at her feet. The "coral pink" nail polish on her toes was appropriately named, as she looked around and saw the same shade surrounding her all around in the vibrant ecosystem. Her gold anklet, however, did not blend in so well. It was a simple chain. Down here though, it was anything but.

Down here, her anklet and the rays of the sun held each other like lovers. She had never noticed such a luminescent sheen coming from it before. She thought curiously how strange it was that it seemed to reflect more light here than it ever did at the surface.

At last, her lungs gave out, and she utilized Donny's technique of dropping the rock and pushing with her legs off the bottom at the same time. She reached the surface nearly in an instant, so quickly that it made her ears sore with a dull pain.

Donny had been treading water waiting for her return to the surface.

"Hey there, matey! I see you got yourself some exploring lungs!" She welcomed his compliment of jest with genuine pride.

"Yeah, that was a neat trick you came up with. It helped a lot. Did you find any treasure yet? I've got student loans, you know." They both laughed and dove this time together. She was concerned that he might take the stone that he had found to keep himself anchored. She knew it would only be fair, but to her relief and surprise, he let her to it. Or actually, he grabbed onto it too.

Now, at the bottom of the waves rolling overhead, they were sharing the same heavy object to keep them from floating. How romantic, she jokingly thought, but the comedy of it faded away. Again, here she was alone in a tiny world where only what she could see existed, and there he was. At the same moment, she realized that they weren't exactly holding hands, but they were definitely touching. She noticed how his pinky and ring finger overlapped her index finger, lightly wrapped around hers for grip. It was incredibly subtle, but the contact was undeniable.

Just then, he let go. He dashed away, kicking his feet in a flutter. He looked back at her and then forward, back and forward as he swam, hinting to her to follow. She had not noticed it until the sudden movement, but he was aiming towards what seemed to be the only yellow formation of coral around. It was large and branched, resembling a shrubby tree. A portion of it, the portion where Donny was swimming, had been broken. The rigidity of the cracked coral branches was a sharp contrast to how perfect everything else seemed to look around her. As she got closer, she also noticed another peculiarity. There were green algae growing on it. However, unlike the other plant life in the sea which ventures for as much sunlight as possible, it was growing on the underside of the branches in the shade.

Donny wedged himself between three arms of the coral and the sand to keep from drifting away and began to shovel with his hands. The pristine water quickly became a cloud of dust. Penelope could make out the occasional heel or elbow poking from the fog as he feverishly dug through the sediment. Then, she saw the black butt of his swim shorts poke through the cloud. It dipped down close to the sand and started to rock left and right as he slowly inched his way backward away from the site. In his hands, there was an old, wooden chest. His eyes darted to hers, and they stared at each other in disbelief. They both shot to the surface as quickly as they could.

“It can’t - I mean, that’s not,” she stuttered.

“I don’t - I just…” they were both helpless for words. For a moment, they were struck in a stupor. They had no idea what to do. A part of them thought for sure they would come up empty in their quest, and yet, there was a chest right at their feet.

After much time processing the unbelievable, they managed to lug the booty on board and make it back to shore. Donny brought the chest to a local merchant of the island, one who had a peculiar affinity to ancient relics and antiquities.

The man asked, “where on earth did you find this?”

“We just happened to be looking for turtles and stumbled upon it. Is it worth anything?”

“Well, that depends. What’s in it?”

Penelope and Donny’s eyes locked to each other. They hadn’t even thought to open the chest. They were so enthralled that they forgot the chest could be junk, or even worse, empty. The three of them peered at its contents together. Not as shiny as they might have hoped, it seemed to be the personal belongings of some seafarer. Clothes, a pipe, a few rusty coins, pieces of paper. They collectively frowned in disappointment.

“I imagine the museum wouldn’t mind a peek of this. They’d probably offer more than anyone else would.” The duo shrugged at each other and lugged the trunk to the museum just up the road.

“I won’t be able to make an official offer until we get a team to analyze and date the materials for authenticity,” chimed the museum representative. “However, the items are flawlessly intact aside from their wetness. Due to the volume and estimated historical value, I would give you guys a ballpark figure of about $20,000 for this. Plus or minus, pending more information, of course.”

Their jaws hung open in disbelief. Donny looked to Penelope with wide eyes and covertly pulled out the notebook which led them to the treasure. He flipped through the pages again - pages and pages of obscure poems and riddles.