Tears of the Moon - Di Morrissey [119]
‘Captain Evans brought it in from the Annabella. But he says the tally isn’t as good as from the banks they worked last year.’
‘Hmm. Might be time we went back to some of the old beds,’ said Tyndall thoughtfully. ‘The pickings should be ripe again.’
‘Let’s keep it to ourselves. No point in having half the fleet shelling in our waters,’ grinned Olivia.
‘I wish there was some way of replenishing the pearl shell ourselves,’ mused Tyndall. ‘If we could get the spat to grow in controlled conditions and harvest the shell ourselves, we’d make a fortune. And guarantee they’d produce a decent pearl for good measure,’ he added.
‘Is that possible?’
‘I’ve heard rumours of some experiments and I’d like to think that anything is always possible.’
‘Always the optimist, aren’t you? Well, figure out where we’re going to send the boats next season.’
‘This season isn’t over yet. Perhaps we should take two of the luggers and do a little exploring.’
Tyndall and Olivia took the Shamrock, with Ahmed on the Bulan. The fewer who knew where they were going, the better.
They sailed north to King Sound. The waters were so turbulent that it didn’t surprise Olivia when Tyndall told her few boats ventured into this area off the entrance to the Sound.
They had brought Yoshi to dive with Ahmed on the Bulan and Taki to act as tender for Tyndall on the Shamrock.
Tyndall’s first drift over the seabed produced nothing and he signalled the boat to move on. An hour later in deeper water and descending to thirty fathoms, Tyndall still had no luck. Finally, he signalled to them to bring him up. This was a long, slow process as he had to be staged, resting at intervals on his ascent, hanging on to his lifeline, impatiently waiting, in order to prevent bubbles of nitrogen entering tissues of the body and causing excruciating pain known as ‘the bends’.
After they had raised him out of the water, he collapsed on the deck. When his helmet and boots were removed, he moaned, ‘What a damned waste of time. Absolutely nothing.’
‘What’s wiped out the shell?’
‘Not what, Olivia, but who. Poachers it seems.’
‘Do you suppose Ahmed and Yoshi are having any better luck?’
‘Let’s go see.’
They sailed close to the Bulan and called across to Ahmed who shook his head and gave a thumbs-down.
In the morning the two boats set off and headed out towards Adele Island to try their luck in completely new grounds.
Late the following day the crewman on watch called their attention to a smudge on the horizon. They changed course to port and sailed towards the small island. From a distance it appeared rocky and barren, but on the seaward side they found an inlet and a narrow strip of beach.
‘Look at the palms, it’s quite tropical, and there’s smoke inland a bit,’ said Olivia, handing the eyeglass to Tyndall.
He accepted the glass and, scanning the island, remarked with curiosity, ‘According to the map the island is “uninhabited”.’
The boats slipped in and moored off the beach as the day faded. Ahmed and Yoshi rowed alongside and Tyndall climbed into the dinghy.
They pulled the dinghy onto the shore and made their way into the trees following a well-worn track. Ahmed nudged Tyndall and tapped his nose. Tyndall could smell cooking, too, and soon they could see firelight and hear the noise of a small community.
Long thatched bungalows stood next to stone and wood buildings. Next to several fireplaces, there was an open communal eating area sheltered by a roof supported on poles. Several Aboriginal women were tending food at the fireplaces. One of the bungalows had wooden doors and Tyndall saw the metal bolt on it was padlocked. Some Aborigines were sharpening tools and cleaning several large tortoise shells.
An elderly Aborigine straightened up and stared at them as the little party walked into the clearing. He responded to Tyndall’s greeting with ‘G’day boss’.
The women melted into the background as the men gathered around, curious and friendly.
Tyndall and Ahmed were trying to