My Short Stories

The Mouth of the Mediteranean.

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The breeze wafted the scent of lilac blooms, from the shore opposite the spot he had anchored; a sweet fragrance that filled his lungs prior to a dive and again on rising to the surface.
 
On his first dive the light from the lantern silouetted her figure against the background hydrosphere; another diver, her long golden brown hair floating outward and upward ensconsed him in a dream-like state where young nymphs played in an undersea garden attached to an underwater castle.
He descended to the floor of the bay, she followed, moving beside him  with a glint smile. He moved amongst reads and ships debris, long ago sunk by 'unknowable' circumstance. She anticipated his trail and was there before him. He rose and dived again, she mirrored  his underwater antic .... on a final dive she seemed to all but quickly disappear, not beckoning to be followed..... then she was gone.
 
Spellbinder  now studied the wreckage around him...the map, purported to be drawn by Nelsons on-board surveyor appeared to be genuine;  here was a grave little disturbed by the passage of time.... a few inches of silt covering otherwise undisturbed wreckage. . . 
 
He recovered several artifacts which he intended to  hand over to the Egyptian antiquities department, pieces of timber and iron, including a 'deadeye', from a late eighteenth century French ship .... he knew from his preliminary research. Clay fragments....Any ship was valueable from an archaeological point of view but the above mentioned 'deadeye' buried in the silt with the top surface barely showing he knew was significant from his point of view also. He rose to the surface and hauled in the net containing the fruits of his first dive.
"Well thats a start." he spoke quietly to himself. " Now all 'we' have to do is find the right ship."
  There were three in the vicinity from the 'Battle of the Nile.'
 
He was quite self-sufficient on board, but nevertheless felt the need to venture into Alexandria to sample the street  and University atmosphere as well as sound out a few archaeologists who had expressed interest in his work. Also to sample the nightlife, and relax in congenial surroundings.
 
Joseph Cali was one of these archaeologists currently doing a study of marine archaeology in Aboukir Bay, from Rome University.
 
The sinking of  Napoleons fleet was a known historical fact but little was known relating to its actual whereabouts, or so he thought.
 
The man, Joseph Cali, accepted his offer to join him; Spellbinder needed expertise in artifact recovery but was not interested in employing the services of professonal bounty hunters.
 
 The spot he had chosen lay outside the normal traffic lanes going in and out of the harbour.  A country the size of Egypt with a population around 60 million had quite a busy port so this was a blessing. There were many fishing boats in the area but they were all mainly headed to the open sea, when not simply tied to buoys and the various jetties around the harbour. Maybe this was the source of the nymph he had encountered on his first dive, or perhaps she was simply from a pleasure boat in the area. Had she even been real?  That too was a thought that had flickered across his mind - before quickly dismissing it with a grin..it had been all too real.
 
 
Spellbinders first big enterprise on shore was a trip to Cairo, and the Great Pyramid. Here he learned that the visible structures on the site were but the apex of a vast underground complex, complete with water courses, streets, temples, meeting places and houses, all cut out of the bedrock, and hence the likely source of the stones which now stood before him. The Great Pyramid itself may have been nothing more than a powerhouse - generating enormous radiation or pressure even and hence  perhaps the immense stone enclave required to contain it? If this theory was correct, for what purpose was not clear .... lost in time, as in a mist. What was clear was that the ancient world was covered with pyramids - and a sphynx can even be seen to this day, (along with sulphur balls!), at the gateway to the ancient city of Gomorhea, at the south western edge of the Dead Sea.
 
 

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