Page 70 of Life, Love and the Pursuit of Happiness

“That’s not so outrageous, actually,” Bonita said. “Shipwrecks become natural reefs to marine life. In fact, they call amberjacks ‘reef donkeys.’”

Sometimes Merrill forgot that Bonita’s expertise was in the marine life aspect of oceanography.

“You’ll be interested to know, Ms. Doubtful,” Merrill said, turning to Delilah and, without thinking, putting an arm over her shoulder, “that while some people . . . crazies, in my opinion . . . eat amberjack, they’re loaded with white worms, called spaghetti worms.”

“Yuck!” she said, and shrugged out of his embrace, casting him a scowl of warning.

He just grinned.

“As for that guy with his amberjack theory”—Merrill directed his words to Famosa now—“they say ‘follow the money’ in crime detection. Why not ‘follow the fish’ in sunken treasure detection?”

“Sounds like a great title for a book,” Famosa commented to Bonita.

Bonita smiled at Famosa as if he’d said something particularly clever.

Hey, I was the one with the clever observation. Not that I want Bonita looking at me that way. Delilah, on the other hand . . . He glanced at Famosa and then Bonita. Yep. Something definitely going on there.

They all headed toward the wheelhouse, where they could view the readings on the computer screen. For the next four hours, Charlie trolled over one lane after another of the grid. Everyone watched the screen with excitement, and occasionally one or the other of them spelled Charlie at the wheel.

There was reason for excitement. A number of squares in the grid showed potential, especially since they were clustered together near the center of the site. Luckily, they weren’t along the edges because then there would have been the worry over exceeding their license limit or of other salvaging companies moving in to legally steal, or rather, take advantage of all their work.

By the time they all sat at the table down below, well past their usual dinner hour, eating pizza and drinking beer, there was an air of euphoria. First thing tomorrow morning, they would begin to dive the first of the six areas that looked most promising. Of course, there were no guarantees, but everyone was cautiously optimistic. All, or most of them, were dreaming of what they would do with their share of the profits if a discovery turned out to be as prosperous as they hoped, but no one spoke those dreams aloud for fear of jinxing the outcome.

By the next evening, though, the euphoria turned to jubilation. The remains of the Falcon had been found. Scattered by 150-plus years of battering tides and shifting sands, they’d only skimmed the surface of four blocks, but they’d already brought up buckets of encrusted gold and silver coins and bars that had to be worth millions. A piece of brass that once graced the wooden steering wheel clearly identified the find as being the Falcon.

Merrill had called Gabe, who owned a large percentage of the business, and Harry, who got a small cut in this one mission, telling them about the discovery but cautioning them both to remain silent. The longer they could work the site without the public, or other salvagers, knowing about it, the easier it would be for them to complete the operation. Of course, the state and some historical agencies would have to be notified, but again Merrill wanted to work, uninterrupted, as long as possible.

After dinner, Merrill brought out the champagne he’d saved for just such an occasion, and he proposed a toast. “Thanks be to God for favoring our quest. Thanks be to the ocean, and especially the Falcon, for giving up this bounty. Thanks be to hard workers and good friends to share the joy.”

There were responses of “Amen!” “Cin Cin!” “¡Salud!” “Bonne Chance!” “Skål!” and “Hoo-yah!”

They all took long drinks from their plastic glasses.

“In the words of Mr. Spock, who was just as eloquent as my friend Geek, but more brief,” K-4 said then, connecting a high five with Merrill, “live long and prosper.”

Everyone nodded and took another drink.

Charlie surprised them by offering a toast related to her own situation: “Two ins and one out. In with health and wealth. Out with debt.”

After they drank to that toast, Merrill opened a second bottle of champagne.

Bonita stood then, already a little wobbly. “There are good ships and there are bad ships that sail the seas. But the best ships are friendships. Forever may they be.”

“Hear, hear!” everyone said, and took another drink.

“You guys are so full of nicey-nice shit,” Gus said. “Here’s to you, and here’s to me. Friends may we always be. But if by chance we disagree, up yours! Here’s to me!”

Time to steer this party in another direction. “I know what I’m going to do with my share of the treasure,” Merrill said. “Buy a house in Bell Cove. How about the rest of you?”

Delilah stared at him in surprise.

What? Does she think I’m going to live in a motel room the rest of my life? Or does she think I’m going to skip town? Not anytime soon, baby!

But the others had taken his cue on changing the subject.

“I’m going to quit my job with the National Park Service and finish up my PhD. About time, too.” This from Bonita.

“I like teaching,” Famosa contributed, “so I won’t give that up. And I like shipwreck ventures, like this one on the side. Maybe I’ll buy a diving boat . . . a small one . . . and teach shipwreck diving off the Jersey coast.”