So we rose at four thirty the next morning and drove 

 through the silent pre-dawn streets to the dockside. Sea 

 Diver was soon under way. When we arrived in the vicinity 

 of the wreck, she was eased into position, close enough to 

 one of the old anchors so that her lifting equipment could 

 be used in raising it. 



As soon as there was light enough to see clearly be- 

 neath the surface, we went overboard — Captain Weems, 

 Ed, and I with the air hoses, and Peter and Kay with tanks 

 strapped to their backs. It was good to be on the bottom 

 again. I enjoyed myself immensely, swimming about the 

 wreckage and scanning the coral formations in hopes of 

 discovering some object which the others might have over- 

 looked the previous day. As long as I did not use my right 

 arm I found that my ribs did not hurt too badly, but I dared 

 not exert myself. 



In the meantime Ed and Captain Weems had suc- 

 ceeded in prying loose an anchor from the coral and sand. 

 While Peter maneuvered about the men with his camera, 

 they secured a heavy chain about its shank and then sig- 

 naled to Vital and Kemp on deck to start the winch. By the 

 time the anchor had been dragged across the bottom to 

 a spot just below the lifting gear, the water had become 

 so murky it was hard to see anything. 



I swam clumsily toward Sea Diver's bow to look for 

 the large anchor which had been the first sign of the wreck, 

 thinking the water would be clearer in that direction. 

 It was then I discovered that my air hose, floating free 

 near the surface, had become entangled with a mess of 

 other lines and hoses stemming from the same section of 

 Sea Diver's deck. I swam an intricate pattern to extricate 

 myself from them, and then headed again toward the bow, 

 carefuUy scanning the coral bottom for signs of wreckage. 



I was about thirty feet beyond the boat when I be- 



206 Sea Diver 



