The Sea Hawk Read Online Free PDF Page A

hull to catch his breath, Frankie strapped on a new tank.
    "You need to give this a rest for a while, Frankie," he said as he squinted up at her, sea water dripping down his face. "The Peach has been down there two centuries. She isn't going anywhere."
    "This will be my last dive. I thought I spotted something the last time down and want to check it out before I forget where it was," Frankie said as she tightened the strap across her chest holding the tanks in place. "I've still got a couple of hours of good light left."
    "Didn't you mark it?"
    "I was on my ascent and just caught a glimpse of something."
    "Probably another fuckin' beer can or license plate," Damian groused as he unhooked the tank strap across his chest and took a deep breath of fresh air.
    Shoving the mouthpiece between her lips, Frankie flipped into the water and began one more trip to the Peach . She knew Julia reveled in working on the excavation, but Julia was gone. The Peach was nothing more than a grave site. Now it had taken yet another victim and Frankie was beginning to hate it.
    She couldn't remember what her depth had been when she saw the object that caught her attention as she dropped deeper, slowly scanning the ocean floor below. Whatever she saw had been perhaps two or three yards from the main excavation site. As soon as the Peach loomed up from its final resting place on the bottom, Frankie stopped her descent and looked to the right, but saw nothing. Remaining at the same depth she moved slightly, looking up at the bottom of the Discovery II . Shafts of sunlight penetrated the water, wavering in the gentle movement of the water. She thought she was about in the same position she had been when she saw the object the first time. Turning her head back toward the seabed she saw it, caught for a second in the dim wavering light. Swimming lower, her eyes never left the spot. When she finally reached the location, she got her mask as close as she could before tentatively moving the sediment away with the tips of her fingers.
    Reaching to her waist belt, Frankie switched on a small waterproofed work light to examine the object. It was metallic and even though it was round, it didn't appear to be ammunition, or an ever-present beer can. The portion not buried in sediment was heavily pitted, but seemed to be in fair condition. Using a plastic probe, Frankie followed the edge of the object and began carefully moving more sediment away until she saw what appeared to be a metal tankard of some type. Probably pewter. It would have been a common item aboard such an old ship. Afraid she might damage it by pulling it from the location, she continued removing it from its tomb. It was amazingly intact and she shined the work light over its surface and examined it carefully. Perhaps a clue to a crew member, she thought as she placed the drinking vessel carefully into a mesh bag attached to her work belt. Marking the spot with a bright yellow plastic flag, Frankie began her rise back to the surface. She wished Julia could have been there to see her discovery. She blinked away tears as the Peach disappeared below her once again.

    THE DAY AFTER the storm passed, the sun had felt good against Julia's face, warming her body. Now, two days later, the summer sunlight reflecting off the water became the enemy. The muscles in her face ached from squinting against the glare to prevent blindness. The skimpy neoprene rash suit left her arms and shoulders exposed to the sun, as well as her upper legs. Even if she ducked her head in the water to cool off, the sun quickly turned it into hot water against her already burning skin. While her torso remained relatively cool in the water, her head, arms, and legs were continuously exposed. For the first day or so she managed to float effortlessly. But by the end of the second day, she could feel the tightness of her skin as it dried and burned. The cold water which accompanied the storm was gradually replaced by temperatures in