Read Online The Minoan Cipher (A Matinicus “Matt” Hawkins Adventure Book 2) by Paul Kemprecos - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Paul Kemprecos
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we’re making this dive,” she said. “Thank you so much for doing this, Matt.”
“I’m the one who should be thanking you, Kalliste. I’d be in my office back in Woods Hole instead of being here on the brink of a great discovery.”
She glanced around at the encroaching ocean. “I’m getting very nervous.”
“Don’t be. You’re as safe here as on your living room sofa.”
“It’s not the dive,” she said. “I feel perfectly comfortable with you. It’s the ship. What if it’s not Minoan?”
“We’ll know soon enough. We’re almost on the bottom.”
The submersible set down close to where the buoys anchor flukes were embedded in the sand.
“Almost no vegetation,” Hawkins said. “That’s a good sign. The temperature at this depth discourages the growth of marine organisms that feed on wood.”
Hawkins powered the vertical thrusters. Falstaff rose around six feet, coming to a hover. He put the submersible into a slow spin. The floodlights stroked the darkness like beams from a shore beacon. He was flicking on the video camera when he heard Kalliste say, “Oh!”
He looked up from the control panel. Directly in front of the submersible was a tall pillar that had a knob on top. The shape was indistinct because of an uneven covering of concretion, but the knob had the vague shape of a bird, with the beak pointing directly at them.
Kalliste murmured something in Greek. “ Omorphi . Poly Omorphi .”
“Don’t know what you said, but I wholeheartedly agree,” Hawkins said.
“I said it was very beautiful. In more ways than one. You see how it looks vaguely like the head of a bird? This may be important. The bird motif was a common bow feature on Minoan vessels. Can we take a look at the stern section?”
Hawkins reached for the controls that would move Falstaff vertically. They rose several feet higher than the knob, and he angled the submersible into a forward tilt, piloting Falstaff slowly over the wreck. Although the deck was covered in sand they glimpsed some of the ship’s ribs and amorphous lumps here and there.
Kalliste dug a cellphone out of a waterproof neck pouch and put it on video mode.
“I know the submersible has cameras,” she said. “But I want something I can get back to the Hidden History channel as soon as we come out of the water.”
The submersible traveled around a hundred feet. The floodlights fell on a section of fish net draped around the high stern.
Kalliste leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. “That’s where the fisherman’s net snagged the wreck. See that long plank projecting from the stern right about where water level would ordinarily be? We call vessels with that feature ‘frying pans,’ because that’s what they look like.”
“What’s its purpose?”
“Some people think it was a stabilizer that lengthened the waterline without elongating the hull. Others say it would be a drag on the ship, like having a ladder down the side, and would tend to draw the ship’s stern to the wind.”
“That could be dangerous with high waves and a following sea,” Hawkins said.
“That’s why there’s scholarly disagreement. But the stern projection tells us something. Like the bow, it is a design used by Minoan shipwrights.”
“Are you ready to make a positive ID, then?”
She shook her head. “It makes no difference how ready I am. Any theory I present will be subject to scathing review from my colleagues and peers. It must be airtight. But evidence of Minoan shipbuilding techniques could help bolster our case.”
“Cargo specimens would help even more.”
“Without a doubt, Minoan artifacts would seal the deal. You forget that our pig-faced Spanish friend has forbidden us from touching the wreck. It’s a shame, because I can’t get funding from the television people without hard evidence.”
“If I set Falstaff down within inches of the deck, the thrusters might accidentally blow sand off and uncover cargo. Technically speaking, we
“I’m the one who should be thanking you, Kalliste. I’d be in my office back in Woods Hole instead of being here on the brink of a great discovery.”
She glanced around at the encroaching ocean. “I’m getting very nervous.”
“Don’t be. You’re as safe here as on your living room sofa.”
“It’s not the dive,” she said. “I feel perfectly comfortable with you. It’s the ship. What if it’s not Minoan?”
“We’ll know soon enough. We’re almost on the bottom.”
The submersible set down close to where the buoys anchor flukes were embedded in the sand.
“Almost no vegetation,” Hawkins said. “That’s a good sign. The temperature at this depth discourages the growth of marine organisms that feed on wood.”
Hawkins powered the vertical thrusters. Falstaff rose around six feet, coming to a hover. He put the submersible into a slow spin. The floodlights stroked the darkness like beams from a shore beacon. He was flicking on the video camera when he heard Kalliste say, “Oh!”
He looked up from the control panel. Directly in front of the submersible was a tall pillar that had a knob on top. The shape was indistinct because of an uneven covering of concretion, but the knob had the vague shape of a bird, with the beak pointing directly at them.
Kalliste murmured something in Greek. “ Omorphi . Poly Omorphi .”
“Don’t know what you said, but I wholeheartedly agree,” Hawkins said.
“I said it was very beautiful. In more ways than one. You see how it looks vaguely like the head of a bird? This may be important. The bird motif was a common bow feature on Minoan vessels. Can we take a look at the stern section?”
Hawkins reached for the controls that would move Falstaff vertically. They rose several feet higher than the knob, and he angled the submersible into a forward tilt, piloting Falstaff slowly over the wreck. Although the deck was covered in sand they glimpsed some of the ship’s ribs and amorphous lumps here and there.
Kalliste dug a cellphone out of a waterproof neck pouch and put it on video mode.
“I know the submersible has cameras,” she said. “But I want something I can get back to the Hidden History channel as soon as we come out of the water.”
The submersible traveled around a hundred feet. The floodlights fell on a section of fish net draped around the high stern.
Kalliste leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. “That’s where the fisherman’s net snagged the wreck. See that long plank projecting from the stern right about where water level would ordinarily be? We call vessels with that feature ‘frying pans,’ because that’s what they look like.”
“What’s its purpose?”
“Some people think it was a stabilizer that lengthened the waterline without elongating the hull. Others say it would be a drag on the ship, like having a ladder down the side, and would tend to draw the ship’s stern to the wind.”
“That could be dangerous with high waves and a following sea,” Hawkins said.
“That’s why there’s scholarly disagreement. But the stern projection tells us something. Like the bow, it is a design used by Minoan shipwrights.”
“Are you ready to make a positive ID, then?”
She shook her head. “It makes no difference how ready I am. Any theory I present will be subject to scathing review from my colleagues and peers. It must be airtight. But evidence of Minoan shipbuilding techniques could help bolster our case.”
“Cargo specimens would help even more.”
“Without a doubt, Minoan artifacts would seal the deal. You forget that our pig-faced Spanish friend has forbidden us from touching the wreck. It’s a shame, because I can’t get funding from the television people without hard evidence.”
“If I set Falstaff down within inches of the deck, the thrusters might accidentally blow sand off and uncover cargo. Technically speaking, we
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