Pearls (12 page)

But Hanaguchi was determined to see it through. He would not be his uncle's lackey forever. He would make his own fortune and he would never have to beg again.

And here was his chance. His uncle had arranged for him to start as try diver on a lugger called the
Roebuck
, for a white pearler called McKenzie. He would get four pounds a month, plus a lay bonus for shell and a commission on any pearls he found. It was not much, but it was a beginning. He received three months wages in advance before they sailed. His uncle knew that McKenzie was pressed for money, so on Uncle Tanaka's advice, he offered to loan it back to him at ten per cent interest.

He was surprised when his new employer accepted the offer. The next morning the
Roebuck
left Broome and set sail for the pearling grounds. 

Chapter 20

'Did you hear the news?' George said to her over lunch the next day.

'What news is that, George?' she said, though she knew perfectly well what he meant.

'McKenzie's back in town. He's signed a lease on one of Todd's luggers and he's been in Chinatown been looking for crew. Don't tell me you hadn't heard?'

'No one mentioned it at bridge club,' she lied.

'You will remember what we talked about.'

'What was that, George?'

'About Jamie. I don't want him to know. Not yet anyway.'

'He's bound to find out some time or other.'

'Just not now. When he's old enough.' He picked up his solar topee and walked out, the screen door slamming behind him.

***

It was cold on the sea floor and the divers wore as much insulation under their diving dress as they could. Siosuki put on two suits of flannel pyjamas and two pairs of long, thick, woollen socks. He had wrapped another piece of wide flannel, almost four yards long, around his abdomen. Over all this he had put on a pair of woollen drawers and a heavy woollen sweater that reached almost to his knees.

By the time he was dressed he was gasping in the tropical heat. It would be a blessed relief to get into the water.

Wes helped him into the tough canvas diving dress, the cuffs at the ankles and wrists well greased. Then came the heavy lead-soled boots and the great copper corselet that fitted over the top of the suit, attached to the canvas with butterfly nuts.

'Hokkay?' Wes said.

It was as much as he could do to stand up. His knees buckled under the weight of the corselet. He thought he was going to faint from the heat. He lumbered to the gunwale, desperate to get into the water. He knew Cameron and Simeon, his number one, were watching him.

I must not fail, he thought. I have to find bags and bags of shell. No more begging.

He stepped over the rope ladder and paused while Wes hung the heavy lead weights down his back and over his chest, then checked and re-checked his air pipe and lifeline. Finally he picked up the heavy sea-greened copper helmet and placed it over his head. Wes screwed the face glass into place.

Suddenly he was no longer part of the world of light and clear sound. The hissing of the air filling his suit echoed around inside the cavernous helmet; the smells of salt and diesel and fish were abruptly cut off.

He balled his fists tight around the rope ladder to stop them shaking and steeled himself for the coming ordeal. He stepped off the ladder and into the ocean.

At first the air in his suit held him upright in the water. Then he remembered he had to adjust the large air valve screw on the outside of his helmet. He closed it down with his right hand and sank in an explosion of bubbles into another world.

***

Siosuki stood on the sandy bottom both mesmerised by the beauty of what he saw around him. He was on a wide underwater plain, the sea grass waving with the current like wheat in a field. A cliff loomed from the murky green ahead of him, clusters of sponges in soft pinks and aquamarine growing up the vertical walls.

Red and white angel fish darted in and out of the shadowed grottoes. A sentinel fish peered out at him behind the waving tendrils of an underwater plant.

For a moment he was transfixed by this alien world. The dismal green light and the strange murky cliffs horrified him. His hand tightened around the lifeline. One tug and they would haul him up, back to safety.

I must force my way past this fear, he thought. Unless you want to spend the rest of your life standing behind the counter in your uncle's shop! You must think only about the shell.

He took a few faltering steps and, finding nothing, tugged on the line and gave the command to drift.

***

But finding shell was not as easy as he thought. There were none down here, not a single one! He searched the reef and cliff face without finding anything. In no time Wes signalled that it was time to come up and when he came out of the water there was not a single shell in the string bag at his waist. No one said anything to him as Wes helped him out of his suit. Afterwards he sat down alone by the mast, smoking a cigarette, ignoring Wes' whispered words of consolation.

Simeon was already on the bottom and had sent up his first full bag of shell. Twice more Siosuki went down and twice more came up empty-handed. In that time Simeon had added three more full bags to his pile.

The sun was getting low in the sky when he went down for his final dive. He was oblivious to the strange green world around him now, out of his mind with frustration and rage at his own failure. He must at least find one shell. Just one!

He drifted from cliff to cliff, searching desperately. Suddenly he saw something glinting among the weed to his right. It was there for only a moment, like a mirror flashing in the sun, and then was gone. He lumbered towards it.

It was a pearl oyster, a big one. It had opened its shell for a moment to feed and what Siosuki had seen was the mother of pearl sheen inside the shell. The outside was so encrusted with weed and sea plants that otherwise he would never have spotted it.

He prised it from the reef with his knife and placed it almost reverently in his net bag. Suddenly there were oysters all around him. Where a moment ago there had been only coral and rock and weed he could now see a harvest of shell. He felt like a blind man who had suddenly regained his sight.

His heart pounding with triumph and relief, he started to fill the bag at his waist.

***

Simeon scowled as another bag of shell came up from below and was thrown on Siosuki's pile. Their new try diver was becoming more expert every day. Soon his pile would match, or even surpass, his own. The Japanese was going deeper, and staying down longer, than he ever could. At this rate he wouldn't be number one diver for much longer.

These little yellow bastards would take over the whole industry one day.

He got up from his stool. 'I'm going down for another spell,' he told Hassan, his tender.

'You're still on your break.'

'I'm going down! Do as you're told!'

Cameron looked up from opening shell. 'Your shift's not due for another half an hour, Mister Espada.'

'I'm all right, boss. I want to go back down.'

Cameron smiled. 'He's keeping you on your toes, isn't he?'

Simeon lowered himself over the coir ladder. A few minutes later he was descending through the dark green water into the deeps.

***

It was a neap tide, and the water was crystal clear. When Simeon reached the bottom, he could see Siosuki quite clearly, almost fifty metres away.

He was on good shell, his fingers busy among the weed and sponge. In his suit and helmet he lumbered along the sea floor like some ancient monster, the red rubber air hose and the thick manila lifeline snaking through the mists like enormous tentacles. His air bubbles spiralled upwards in sparkling silver clouds.

Simeon lumbered after him.

***

Siosuki worked feverishly, stripping the oysters from the rock. As he put the last shell in the bag, he looked down to see if it was full yet.

It was almost empty.

He grabbed at the bag and held it up, looking for a hole.

Suddenly the comforting
clack-clack
of the air pump disappeared. His air hose! His air hose was cut! He grabbed for his air valve to close it and stop the water rushing in to his helmet.

It was already shut off.

His suit started to collapse under the pressure of the water. He groped desperately for the valve, adjusted it, and as his suit re-pressurised the crinkles in his suit smoothed out again.

He planted his feet firmly on the sea bed, took a few deep breaths to settle himself. He could feel his heart hammering against his ribs. He tried to fathom what could have happened. All he could think of was that the valve must be faulty. Should he go back to the surface? If he was wrong they would all laugh at him.

But what about the shell bag?

Something hit him hard from behind. A shark! He grabbed for his lifeline and tugged hard. 'Pull up, pull up!'

***

Siosuki clung to the rope ladder while Wes lifted off the helmet and started to unscrew the corselet. 'What is it? You see shark down there?'

Siosuki could not speak, could barely make it to his stool by the main mast, his legs were shaking so hard. Wes had to help him. He wiped the sweat from his face with a towel and took a proffered cigarette and inhaled deeply.

'Water spirits steal my shell,' he said.

There was a silence and then the crew - mainly Koepangers - started to laugh. Cameron was the only one who did not seem to find it funny.

'There's nae such thing.'

Siosuki shook his head. Of course there were water spirits, even the smallest child in his village knew that. 'Water spirit steals my shell, turn off my air valve.'

'Oh aye, and what did this water spirit look like.'

'Green,' Siosuki said, improvising. 'Green, all rotten. Just skull for face. Perhaps dead diver. Maybe ghost.'

'Get back down, Mister Hanaguchi. Mister Espada's sending up good shell. You should be down there with him.'

'Not here. Another place more better. Dead diver here for sure.'

Cameron swore and turned away. The Japanese were good divers but superstitious beyond belief, to a man. It would be pointless to try and persuade him. Working the deeps did this to a man; after a while even the best diver began to imagine things.

The crew rolled their eyes at each other and chuckled among themselves.

Simeon surfaced nearly two hours later. When he was out of his suit, he accepted a cup of coffee from the cookboy and sat down on the bulwark.

'A good haul, Mister Espada,' Cameron said, surveying the Manilaman's lay. 'By the way, you did nae happen to see a dead diver down there?'

Simeon pursed his lips thoughtfully and shook his head.

'Mister Hanaguchi thinks a skull with a green body stole all his shell.'

'Well I know I stole some of his shell. But I didn't see no ghost. Perhaps I frightened him off.'

All the crew were staring at Simeon now. 'I thought so. Did you turn off his air valve, also?'

Simeon grinned. 'Then I gave him a good kick in the pants with my boot. You should see him jump!' He threw back his head and roared. Soon the rest of the crew were laughing too. The only ones who did not laugh were Cameron, who had lost an afternoon's work from one of his divers, and Siosuki.

'It was just a joke,' Simeon said.

Hanaguchi picked up a marlin spike and came at him. He would have split the Manilaman's skull down the middle if Wes had not intercepted him, pinning his arms. He held him while Cameron prised the heavy iron from his fist, then hefted him, screaming curses at Simeon in Japanese, downstairs to his bunk.

He grabbed Simeon by the collar. 'I ought to break your head for that little prank myself,' Cameron said and threw the marlin spike across the deck where it lodged in the scuppers. He went below decks to help Wes calm the little Japanese.

There was a shuffling silence. Simeon winked at the Koepangers. That should give the little yellow bastard something to think about. Never mind that he had just made himself a mortal enemy. He was too full of himself to realise it.

***

Simeon lay on his bunk in the darkness, listening to the night. The
Roebuck's
chain trembled as she faced the tide, timbers creaking as she came about. He heard the Japanese, Hanaguchi whimpering in his sleep, wrestling with the sea demons again. Something scuttled across the floor, a cockroach or perhaps a rat.