exact depths of the waters which we would traverse upon 

 our voyages, and be of aid when we were coming into 

 strange ports at night, or when approaching an unknown 

 shore. And we knew from previous experience on the shal- 

 low Bahama banks that, with no land in sight, tlie fathom- 

 eter would help us to fix our approximate location by 

 allowing us to compare actual water depths with those 

 marked on the chart. 



This time we also had a competent new crew member 

 — Robby Robinson, the salvager, who had joined us to 

 assist with the diving and the deck work. Unfortunately, 

 during the stormy weather of the past month, he and 

 Webby had sunk their salvage boat. Retriever, upon one 

 of the reefs near Key Largo, where they had been work- 

 ing. It now reposed on the bottom, awaiting salvage in its 

 turn; and Robby, who had appeared at the shipyard one 

 day, had been easily talked into joining us. 



The record of the following two months was one of 

 frustration and disappointment, spiced with just enough 

 success to keep us going. Day after day we met with high 

 winds and consequent murky water. In spite of a sea- 

 worthy boat, we still found ourselves tied up at docks or 

 anchored in the shelter of reefs and islands, for it was im- 

 possible to locate anything on the bottom as long as the 

 water around the reefs was so roiled. 



It was particularly aggravating because, soon after 

 we had left the shipyard, Mendel Peterson and his wife 

 joined us for a two-week period. The Smithsonian curator, 

 who had kept us supplied all year with a constant bom- 

 bardment of charts and records, was as eager as we to 

 locate some of the old wrecks and to dive upon them. He 

 had great plans for developing the marine-archeology sec- 

 tion at the Smithsonian, which had had its inception the 



62 Sea Diver 



