Song of the Ocean: Daughter of the Crestian Sea - Book One

Chapter Eight: Getting to the Mainland

The later part of the morning was spent looking for salvageable pieces of wood from the ship. We had to wait a little while after eating the tuna - apparently humans can't swim straight after eating, so Grayson told me - then we took to the beach of the isle. I swam out to the wreck of the ship that I now had learned was named the Belvedere in search of all the pieces Grayson had told me he needed to make the raft thing he had mentioned. I had no idea how it would work, but I couldn't deny how interesting it was to watch a human make something.

Swimming towards the wreck, I went through the list he'd given me mentally over and over again as the water lapped over my slender shape: Ropes, at least five or six lengths, any pieces of long wooden boards that are undamaged, cloth from the sails, and six barrels... He'd had to explain what barrels were, but I understood from the drawing he'd made in the sand.

The wreck had all but sunk now, only those mast things left sticking out of the water, but even they were vanishing. It hadn't settled yet, which was dangerous, but I didn't see what choice I had. I breathed in, then out and dived under, my breath chamber taking over with the familiar inhale at my forehead as the water surrounded me. My eyes adjusted within a few moments and I could see easily.

It was murky with the churning waves and the disturbed sediment the ship had knocked loose when it slammed into the rocks. The waters looked as dull and cloudy as the skies often did, especially when fogs rolled in. Then, through the misty currents and the struggling beams of light, it appeared as a looming black shape; imposing, but shattered. The ship stood like a great monolith of broken wood before me, its prow tilted up with the way it had landed on the rocks, just on the edge of a sharp drop into a deep, shadowy trench.

Pausing at the edge, I looked down into the depths below. Bubbles drifted up to me in the shadowy deep, kelp floating loosely in the weightless blue from being torn free by the vessel's collision with the rocks and seabed. I shivered as I gazed into that nothingness, though I knew the floor was beneath me. My imagination began running wild again as I glimpsed a shimmer beneath the blackness cast by the murky light hitting the cliffs. My heart raced at the prospect of what it might be.

Focus, Rinnaria, I told myself mentally, spinning around with a swipe of my tail and a swing of my arms to face the wreck. Just focus on getting what he needs.

Swallowing back my unease, I stretched forward and swam with my arms at my sides towards the broken husk that had been the Belvedere. Again, my mind was racing with imagined thoughts of fear as I pushed towards the back of the torn open forward section. So many terrors were flashing before my mind's eye that could potentially linger in the ruins, but what really unnerved me was the knowledge of the crew's fate. Only Grayson had survived...

Hesitating at the opening, I turned from it and swam up to the buckled deck. The light was stronger here and so I was less afraid. I searched the deck for the ropes first. They were the easiest to find, but not so easy to loosen. Ropes don't seem to like the water and tighten more as if their lengths shrink with the wetness. It took me a little more effort and time, but I recovered seven or eight lengths just to be safe, then took them to Grayson.

Next, I sought the barrels. They were so much easier to move, but required a few trips. I just loosened each one with help from Brunar; the turtle gracefully waving his flippers as he worked at nudging them free. Each barrel came loose and I wrapped my arms over it to guide it to the surface. Once there, I just used my tail to push it towards Grayson's place on the beach and he waded into the shallows to take it. We worked well together.

The wooden boards were heavy, but the water made them less so with its always helpful embrace. I had to take them one at a time, my arms straining a little with the thickness of them, so once again, multiple trips. I was getting so tired. Soon enough I had gathered everything and Grayson was hard at work creating his raft. That only left the sail cloth. I gathered what I could of it, tore it free of the wrecked masts, then swam back to his place on the shore. There wasn't much that hadn't been burned by the fires the night before.