Michel Montecrossa - Tarana and the island of immortality

My hands trembled and Margaret was still holding tightly to my arm. Now she let me go and laughed:

“We are certainly scaredy-cats. But I think we ought to continue a bit further to investigate and not turn tail and return at once to the Mayflower.”

I agreed with her. I too had no intention to make a bad appearance in front of our certainly more fearful predecessors, and so I boldly gave the signal, that the diving sphere should continue its descent.

Between the seaweed we could see the rock-formations upon which ocean animals were perched quite like plants, which I have written about so much. I took a special note of a collection of sea-anemones which looked like a large dahlia-blossom – but in reality are meat-eating animals.

Till now we had not switched on the external light so that all forms appeared in blue and blue-violet colors. Now I turned on the magnesium-light as I wished to make visible for Margaret and of course also for myself the magnificence of color of the undersea life.

We were astonished! The sea-anemones showed their glowing red and not far from them was a colony of sea-sheaths in blue-white colors with red markings. A number of sea urchins glowed in their green and others in their purple costumes.

In the meantime we had reached about 100 m and I gave the signal to stop. We wanted to have the time to observe longer all those colors and forms and swimming by fish and I began enthusiastically to draw and take notes. Margaret gave me helpful hints, as she had quite a discerning eye and could often take note of the quickly disappearing fish that swam by.

We must have spent about half an hour in that fashion before a surprising signal was sent by the Mayflower II to the diving sphere. In conjunction with my work as a writer I had learned Morse code so that our communications were not limited to simple signals.

“What’s going on?” Margaret asked and I deciphered the clattering Morse signals that were coming through the command line.

“We’re having problems with the winches and cannot, at this moment, raise the diving sphere.”

Suddenly we were prisoners of the sea!

I signalled back and asked how long the repairs would take.

“Two hours,” we were told.

We weren’t exactly put at ease but we nevertheless had the impression that we were not in imminent danger.

“Continue your sketches,” said Margaret. “It’s calming and more productive than brooding.”

She was right, naturally, and I followed her advice.

An ever-changing variety of fish glided through the wide beam of light; they often swam in groups or formations and sometimes presented themselves as a single species. The play of their colors and forms and their entire way of moving was a constant spectacle. Although the diving sphere was now hanging motionless on the cables and we could not change our position, we had a good view of the over-grown rock landscape and the area around it.

It was gradually growing darker, however, and finally the light from our lamp was the only illumination.

Just at that moment, as our hearts were about to be overtaken by a clammy feeling of fear, a thickly pressed together school of fish were swimming in our beam.

Margaret and me were staring somewhat mindlessly at the suddenly bright scene as something powerful suddenly shot out of the seaweed – it was a sawfish!

He rammed his way into the fish formation in front of us and with lightning speed tore apart a few fish with his saw-formed snout. The remains sunk to the ocean floor where the sawfish dined upon them.

Margaret and me were deeply shocked and noticed how exhausted we were.

I put my arm around Margaret, for we had both become cold. We prayed silently as the sawfish shot out again from below us and swam over the diving sphere; it must have gotten caught in the cables and wires because we suddenly were being swung around and the tail fin of the giant animal whipped against the glass of our window.

We grabbed onto the grips. My writing materials flew to the ground and the sphere was so tossed that we swung back and forth like a huge pendulum.

The movements were bringing us dangerously close to the rock formations. The thickly-grown seaweed forest seemed to prevent the worst by acting as a polstering, pinched between the diving sphere and the rock.

After one or two minutes of terror the sawfish had freed itself from its predicament and had disappeared. The movements of the diving sphere calmed down again, the wildly stirred-up seaweed smoothed out and opened the view through the viewing window.

We had been thrown all around the sphere so we got back into our positions.

My first concern was our air supply.

Thank God! I could still hear the soft hiss.

I then tried to make contact with the Mayflower. I signalled again and again but received no answer. The sawfish must have snapped the cable in his thrashing!

I fell back onto the seat cushion. I was stunned and a numbness came over me. Margaret, whom I had not told anything, leaned over to me and looked at me lovingly with her pale face. She had obviously understood the new terrible news without words. She softly caressed my cheek and I felt a stream of peace emanating from her that helped me to reorder my confused thoughts.

“Douglas, whatever awaits us let us not despair but rather put our lives in God’s hands. Our souls are always free and at peace.”

My eyes were full of tears and I was afraid to die and afraid of all the tortures that were yet to come.

She seemed to read my thoughts and said:

“There is always hope, Douglas. Think about God. Our little wills and our actions are now incapable, but not the power of His mercy. What ever happens it won’t take too long and won’t matter in the Glory that awaits us.”

I breathed deeply.

“I’m sorry, Margaret. My nerves are just all gone.”

She put her hand on my shoulder.

“Mine too.”

Then she smiled.

“The shark has already gobbled them up.”

I managed to force a little smile and reached behind the seats where a few blankets were stowed. We wrapped ourselves up and sat looking out the viewing glass.

I don’t know how long we sat like that in silence, but I suddenly had the impression that our magnesium lamp was flickering. I asked Margaret:

“Did you see that flickering as well?”

Margaret had slumbered off but woke up and opened her eyes when she heard my question.

“It just seemed as though our lamp were flickering,” I said and we both looked carefully at the beam of light that pierced into the dark sea from our diving sphere.

Then we both suddenly saw the light grow stronger!

“That is not flickering,” I said, “It’s more like another light, as if light were coming from somewhere else.”

We observed the strange phenomenon several times. It seemed to grow more frequent. Finally we decided to turn off the diving sphere’s lamp.

For a moment we found ourselves in complete darkness and then we saw that flickering light shining down on us from above.

“It must be a storm!” I exclaimed, taken aback.

The flickering lights grew stronger und we could feel the diving sphere begin to sway and bob up and down.

Apparently the Mayflower II had been surprised by a lightning storm!

The pale flashes of light grew stronger and stronger and the movements of the diving sphere were becoming more and more threatening. The seaweed forest in front of us began again its bizare dance, illuminated again and again by the irregular flashes of light, which looked like a living vision of a man in fever delirium.

Then there was a sudden jolt und it seemed as if the diving sphere was moving upwards!

I turned the magnesium light back on and we were in fact on our way back to the surface!