It was now past eight o'clock, and Tortuga was well 

 behind us. As the sun gradually burned through the heavy 

 haze, it high-lighted certain areas of the wooded moun- 

 tainside, disclosing scattered huts and steep, narrow trails 

 twisting up to the heights. The secondary ranges, pale 

 violet shadows in the background, were revealed now and 

 then as the swirling mists on the crests melted into the low- 

 hung clouds, which broke up in fast-changing patterns in 

 the winds from the ocean. 



As I watched, I suddenly saw revealed in these twist- 

 ing vapors of mist and cloud the shape of a cross — a large, 

 heavy cross such as Columbus might have erected to claim 

 these lands for his queen. It hung there in the sky for a long 

 interval while I stared at it spellbound, scarcely daring to 

 breathe. Then its base began to curl and fray at the edges, 

 and it melted away into the rising mist. Soon the whole ap- 

 parition had vanished. 



I blinked my eyes several times and looked back at 

 the water between Sea Diver and the shore, half expecting 

 to see Santa Maria and Nina, sails full set, driving in our 

 direction. But the sea was blank. I surveyed the three su- 

 pine sailors on the aft deck. They still lay with closed eyes 

 and resigned expressions. I was sure they had not looked 

 skyward for some time. 



Had I really seen the cross in the heavens? 



I made my way back to the wheelhouse to see if Ed or 

 Captain Weems had noticed it, but they were still occupied 

 with charts and navigation instruments. They smiled a little 

 condescendingly when I told them of my vision, as if to 

 say, "Might as well humor the poor girl." 



We spent the next three hours picking out landmarks 

 and identifying their present names with those which Co- 

 lumbus had given them as he came upon them on that first 

 voyage: Cabo de Torres, now Cap du Borgne; Cabo Alto 



164 Sea Diver 



