posted on Feb, 23 2010 @ 12:54 PM
Jamieson had been my best friend and business partner. It was
because of him that I was living here on the island in the first place.
This last house on the right, before you got to the lighthouse, was
ours, and it overlooked the rocky beach hundreds of feet below. It
was rustic but sturdy, and gave a pleasant lasting impression to
visitors and owners alike. We had started our own seafood
company just six weeks ago, specializing in fresh Abalone. The
waters around the island provided ideal conditions for harvesting
the seafood, and we only had to deliver it to the mainland to make
a tidy profit. They paid us $55.00 a lb. and sold it for $95.00 a lb. to
hungry tourists ! Such is business ! Jamieson and I had to work at
it, sometimes diving three or four times a week, but it was worth it.
Now, . . . now he was dead. Why ? Had it been that last dive, when
we were rowing out to our favorite spot, and spotted something
strange submerged in about forty feet of water, that maybe sent up
some red flags to someone ? I remember, it had been copper-
colored, approximately sixteen feet long, and about thirty-six inches
in diameter. We never really got a chance to truly investigate it
though, because some official-looking patrol boat with caterwauling
individuals made us feel uncomfortable in our own territory, and we
had headed back. Could that incident have started all of this ?
constable, Mary, discovery, unsavory, team