Epilogue 



Sea Diver's anchor chain rattled through 

 the riding chock as her anchor spun down through the 

 clear water to the white-sand bottom, less than two 

 fathoms below. We were once more in the lee of Miss 

 Roder cay, on the north Bahama banks. Many months had 

 passed since first we anchored on this spot in our search 

 for the brass cannon on the reefs outside. During that 

 interval Sea Diver had toiled hundreds of dangerous 

 miles throughout the Caribbean. Her once-white hull 

 showed the months of hard labor she had endured, a 

 battle-scarred veteran of Cap Haitien, the Silver shoals, 

 and those long weeks beneath the summer sun while we 

 had sought Columbus's probable track. 



We had detoured here on our way to home port, for 

 Ed could not bring himself to return to Miami without one 

 more attempt to locate the brass cannon. This time the 

 Danish salvager, Willy Dahl, who had originally told 

 Ed of the barrels, was also on board. He had been very 

 puzzled at our failure to locate the guns. He was sure Ed 

 had searched in the wrong spot and was confident he could 

 guide us to the right one without any difficulty. 



Epilogue 227 



