Authors: Warren Dalzell
* * *
Debbie and the two female students had been assigned to help exhume the skeletal remains for further study. Jack and Spencer worked some fifty yards to the east, assisting Morgan, Ittuk and several others excavate the area around what appeared to be one of the primary buildings of the ancient village.
What remained of the walls displayed expert craftsmanship. The blocks of local stone from which they’d been constructed had been dry-fit together so precisely as to leave no gaps for wind and rain to get through. The mere fact that parts of the structure were still standing after a millennium of abuse by Mother Nature, was further testament to the masonry skill of the builders.
Jack had set up the surveying gear and was turning angles and shooting distances to various points of interest. Most were control points, set to define and outline the research area. Others were locations where artifacts and other objects of interest were unearthed.
Spencer had made it his job to work with the CAD software Morgan had brought with him. The young technology wizard would download data that Jack acquired and store them in such a way that they could be viewed as a 3-D image from any perspective. He had even included links to .jpg camera images, allowing anyone running the software to visually examine the locale where an artifact lay while simultaneously noting its exact position within the dig site. In the evenings, Spencer would amaze many of the older, less computer savvy, archeologists with the powerful data display tools he and Jack had implemented.
Debbie left the grave site and sauntered over to where Jack and Spencer were hard at work. She was extremely proud of how her students were performing. It was now three weeks into the summer’s work, and all four, even Jocelyn, had become accepted, even indispensable, members of the crew. But in the last few days she’d noticed subtle changes in their attitudes. It was as if they were on auto-pilot, performing their duties in admirable fashion, but without the same level of enthusiasm they had exhibited earlier. In other words, her students were becoming bored. The work had become slow and monotonous for them—they needed a break. After watching the boys work for a spell, she said, “Guys, it’s almost lunchtime. Let’s meet in the kitchen in about fifteen minutes. I’ve got a proposition for you.”
It was Ittuk’s turn to make lunch. Instead of the usual fare of tasteless, re-heated canned mush, he’d decided to treat his compatriots to a real Greenlandic meal. Delving into their small freezer, he’d extracted a slab of seal meat which he was now frying alongside potatoes and onions in a large skillet.
The students sat at one of the tables, waiting patiently for Ittuk to finish and speculating about what Debbie had in the offing. The pungent smells wafting over from the stove piqued Spencer’s curiosity. “What ‘cha cookin’, Ittuk?”
“It is a special treat for my new American friends—fresh seal meat. I killed it this spring, a female…very tasty.”
“Smells like fish.”
“It has the taste of the sea, Spencer, and it is full of nutrients; iron, protein, calcium…you will like it, of that I am certain.”
Moments later, the students and the rest of the lunch crowd filled their plates, buffet style, and sat back down. While the hungry Scandinavian researchers dove into their food, looks of apprehension passed among the newcomers. Each was waiting for one of the others to take the first bite.
It was Jack who summoned his courage and gave in. “Here goes,” he said. Cutting off a good-sized piece of seal, he chewed it slowly, savoring both the taste and the attention bestowed upon him by his captive audience.
“Well?” Jocelyn asked impatiently.
Jack held up his hand in a gesture for her to wait. When they saw him swallow, all three leaned forward, anticipating a verdict. Jack merely smiled and cut himself another piece. It was obvious he was toying with them. Marcie took the hint and followed Jack’s lead. She took a bite and ate it in silence. Another agonizing minute passed.
“Aw, you guys,” Spencer admonished. There was nothing to do but to try it himself. Soon, the three of them were eating their meals, waiting for Jocelyn to join in.
Their wait continued. The young woman from Corpus Christi picked at her vegetables and pushed the slice of seal meat around her plate. She was still gathering her nerve when Ittuk stopped by.
“It is good, is it not?” he beamed. “In winter, the seals are what keep us alive here in the North. The fat keeps you warm, and,” he added, making a fist, “the meat makes you strong.” The expression on Ittuk’s face was one of hope. Part of his culture was on display, subject to criticism by his new colleagues. Sensing this, Marcie, Jack and Spencer offered enthusiastic replies.
“It’s really good,” said Spencer, “kinda like liveh ‘an onions.”
“Yeah,” Marcie agreed, “like you said, it tastes like the ocean, sort of. I would say it’s similar to beef, but with a hint of fish. I like it.”
While Jack rendered his opinion, Jocelyn finally took a small bite. Ever since Debbie had warned her about Ittuk’s volatile temperament, she’d been afraid of him. It certainly wouldn’t pay to antagonize this man out here in the middle of nowhere with two months left in what she now considered a sort of prison sentence. When his expectant gaze fell upon her, she put on a fake, warm smile and said, with her mouth full, “
Delicious!
” Once he was gone, however, she spat it out, frowned and shook her head. “Yuk.”
“Okay, maybe it’s not filet mignon, but it’s not that bad,” Marcie said. She and the others cleaned their plates.
Jocelyn waited until Ittuk’s back was turned and then quickly got up and scraped hers into the trash. When she returned to her seat, she sounded bored and frustrated. “So much for lunch,” she growled. “I wonder what Debbie had in mind when she called for this meeting?”
A response wasn’t long in coming. Debbie had just entered the tent and was headed their way. “Hi, guys, thanks for waiting up.”
“You better hurry up and serve yourself some seal before it’s gone,” Jocelyn said sarcastically.
“I will in a bit. Ittuk is very kind to have prepared that for us. Did you like it?”
“I thought it was great,” Marcie said. “So, why are we here? Jack said you have an important proposition for us.”
“Morgan and I just got through talking. Work is pretty slow right now, so I was thinking: how would you guys like to go on a short expedition?”
“All right!” Marcie perked up. “What kind of trip? To where?”
“I was looking at satellite images of the island and noticed a small beach about twelve miles south of here. The weather seems to be holding up, so what do you say we camp there for a few days and do some exploring, maybe some rock climbing?”
“Awesome,” Marcie said.
Debbie turned to Jocelyn. “You’re on bucket brigade tomorrow, Jossy. If you go on this trip, you’ll have to miss it.”
Jocelyn let out a fake sigh of regret. “Let’s see…go on a trip, or haul drums full of human feces…that’s a tough call. Ah well, I guess if everyone else wants to go, I’m in.”
Both boys nodded their assent.
“Great,” said Debbie. “I’ll pack one of the boats with our tents and supplies. Each of you should bring your heavy sleeping bag and a rucksack full of warm clothing. We won’t be bringing kerosene heaters with us and it’ll be cold there. We’ll meet at 0600 tomorrow morning down by the zodiacs.”
VII.
Waves splashed against the launch, the larger ones spraying those seated in the bow. Jack wanted to stay close to shore but Jocelyn yelled at him over the roar of the outboard, "Take us farther out. Move past where the swells start to break." He dutifully pushed the handle away from himself and gave it some gas. The zodiac arced gracefully towards the horizon and the ride became noticeably smoother. Jocelyn sat in front, exhilarated to be at sea, breathing in the salt air. This was her element; she always felt happy, rejuvenated, out on the water.
They rounded yet another bend of the undulating coastline only to discover that the beach they sought had to be quite some distance ahead. Nowhere along the seaboard could one even consider landing a boat. Dangerous rocks jutted from the water and breakers crashed against them to create a cauldron of mist and foam.
"According to the satellite images our destination is about twelve miles from the dig site," Debbie reminded everyone. She glanced at her watch. "I estimate we're making about eight knots, so it will take us another half hour or so to get there."
Further out to sea there were patches of blue sky, but the island and the waters immediately surrounding it were covered by a thick layer of heavy, gray cloud. Patches of fog obscured the summits of the higher basalt cliffs that ran right to the water's edge. Spencer held onto his Yankees cap as the boat turned into the steady headwind blowing up from the south. Although the day was calm by Eviskar standards, the breeze nonetheless impeded their progress and roughened the seas. "At least I'm not seasick," he thought. He realized it was the fear and anxiety of the trip that was holding his nausea at bay. Pangs of regret at having agreed to come on this little excursion came over him whenever the small craft plunged through the larger swells. He longed to set foot on land, and the sooner the better.
Finally, out of the mist there appeared a break in the mighty seawall. Beyond an enormous rock that had tumbled into the surf eons ago, a sloping patch of ground, perhaps 100 yards wide, lay within a small cove. As they approached they could see breakers gently washing up onto a rocky, pebble-strewn beach.
"Make sure you're well clear of that rock outcrop," Jocelyn commanded," then swing around and come in straight."
Jack did as he was told and within minutes they were headed for shore, helped along by waves generated by the incoming tide. Spencer breathed a sigh of relief as the ride became much calmer and terra firma rapidly approached.
Picking the spot where he wanted to land was easy. It was in an area nearly devoid of large boulders, and from a distance it appeared to offer the smoothest and least objectionable surface for the rubber hull to scrape against. Waves were hitting the beach at a slight angle from the south, so he swung past his target and let the surf and wind help to propel him inland.
Just when he was about to throttle down, the zodiac slammed to a halt and listed sharply to one side. Jocelyn was nearly thrown from the boat and Marcie lurched forward into Debbie's lap. A loud crack accompanied the event followed by an awful scraping noise coming from the engine.
"Rock!" Jack yelled. He was grabbing for the control stick which had been ripped from his hand at the moment of impact. Regaining it, he tried to steer the boat but discovered he had lost all control. The grating sound intensified and smoke began to spew from the engine. He immediately pushed a button on the handle that cut fuel to the motor. Within seconds the outboard sputtered and died leaving behind an eerie silence. An ugly oil slick began spreading out from the back of the boat.
For a while no one spoke. The only sounds were of water gently lapping the rubber gunwale and the whoosh and growl of waves as they washed against the beach and then receded. "Is everyone all right?" Debbie finally asked. Looks were exchanged among the group, each person checking his companions for any sign of injury. “OK then. Let's find the oars and get this thing to shore."
Spencer and Marcie, who were sitting along the sides of the craft, each grabbed an oar and began to paddle. Assisted by the surf it didn't take long to beach the boat. Jocelyn leaped out and pulled on the bow line, heaving the rubber vessel firmly onto land.
The rest of the party disembarked and each found a rock upon which to sit while they contemplated their predicament. There was little doubt that the boat's motor was probably done for, but Debbie told Jack to check it out just in case.
"We'd better run it further up onto the beach," Jocelyn cautioned, "tide's coming in. Motor or no motor, the thing is still seaworthy." She smiled, "Marcie and Spencer may have to paddle us all the way back to the dig."
"Yeah right," Marcie said sarcastically, "but you're right about the tide. If we're stuck here for any length of time, we may have to use the boat as a shelter." Spencer rose to help Jack move the zodiac and check out the condition of the motor.
"Let's not jump to conclusions," Debbie said. "I brought one of the satellite communicators with me. We'll get Morgan or one of the other guys to come and pick us up in another launch." She looked at her watch. It was only 9:00 AM, even though it felt like it was close to mid-day. None of them had yet fully adapted to the long summer days at such high latitude. "Well, I for one intend to make the most of our little side trip," Debbie continued brightly. "We still have a good six weeks of excavation work to do back at the site. This may be our best, if not only, chance to have some fun on this island paradise." She turned and studied the inland terrain. The wall of the caldera rose high up into the clouds to her right and left. Directly in front of her, however, a long scree slope extended to a saddle between the spires on either side. Long ago what was once a cliff had crumbled, perhaps as a result of some seismic event, and broken bits of rock had cascaded down to form the beach where they now sat. The upper reaches of the slide formed a ridge, barely visible below the mist of the surrounding summits, perhaps a thousand feet above them. "Anybody have any doubts about his or her ability to climb that?" Debbie asked, pointing upward. "I don't know how many people have ever seen the interior of Eviskar Island. Between what I've seen at the dig site and from satellite images, this place right here may be the only way to access the volcanic interior without having to use technical gear. This is really unexplored terrain. What do you say?"
Debbie's enthusiasm was so infectious that no one declined. Marcy was particularly eager to visit the unknown. Her spirit of adventure was in high gear. She immediately began to hike up slope. "Wait a minute, Marcie," Debbie called, "there's no great rush."
"Oh, I know. I'm just going to scout around while you guys get ready. Plus, I gotta pee," she added sheepishly.
"Moi aussi," said Jocelyn. The two girls headed for a group of rocks. No sooner had they left than Jack and Spencer returned from the boat. Jack was frowning.
"So, what's the verdict?" asked Debbie.
"You want the good news or the bad news?"
She laughed. "Give me the bad news first. Is it dead?"
"In a word, 'yes.' The cylinder head is cracked. It's bad enough that the thing won't run again. It's a total loss. Not only that, the propeller shaft is bent and this is what's left of the prop." He held up a small, conical shaped piece of metal.
"That doesn't look much like any propellers I've seen. Where are the blades?"
He pointed towards the ocean and shrugged. "Somewhere out there. To put it bluntly: ‘a niech to licho.’"
"What does that mean?"
"It's Polish. Loosely translated it means, uh, ‘we're screwed.'"
"And the good news?"
"Oh, I'm not through with the bad news yet. The really bad news is that there is no good news." He gestured to the raft. "Like Jocelyn said, it’s seaworthy, but I was fighting some pretty stiff currents on the way out here. There's no way we can propel a sluggish thing like this all the way home with those two tiny paddles."
Debbie appraised Jack and Spencer of the day's plans. Both were amenable to a pleasant hike to the rim of the caldera, although neither expected much of a view from the top. Patches of mist were rising rapidly up from within the island and dissipating once they met the offshore wind.
"There may be some places along the way where we might rope-up and do some rock climbing," Debbie said to Jack. I brought enough gear so that we can practice and maybe teach the other students a thing or two. In the biographical info you supplied to me you mentioned climbing as one of your hobbies. Are you any good?"
Jack smiled. "I don't know how good I am, but there's a climbing wall at the local YMCA. I've helped to set a couple of 5.13 routes. One of them has an awesome overhang."
Debbie looked astonished. "5.13 puts you into the expert category."
"Hey, I said I
set
some routes of that difficulty. I didn't say I can
climb
'em. But, yeah, on a good day…who knows?"
"Let me see your hands."
Jack tentatively held out his hands for Debbie's inspection. She regarded them carefully, turning them over, noting the slightly enlarged knuckles, the worn and damaged nails. He certainly had the physique of a climber as well; his arms were wiry and strong and his shoulders were well muscled. "You're a climber all right. This should be fun." She turned to the others. "You guys grab your backpacks and water bottles, and let's take our lunches with us. C'mon, Jack, you can help me carry the climbing gear." She hesitated and looked around. "Where's Marcy? Jocelyn, what happened to your partner in crime?"
"I see her," Spencer announced, "way ovah there, see?"
Sure enough, Marcy was carefully negotiating her way down slope. She had obviously been exploring. In her right hand she grasped something small and gray, and waved it in the air as she approached. "Hey, Debbie, look what I found." Proud of her discovery, she presented a knitted cap for all to see. "Looks like we're not the first people to visit this place. Someone was here recently; I don't think the old Norsemen could have woven something like this. Besides, wouldn't something made of wool decompose over several hundred years?"
Debbie regarded the object and adopted a worried look. "Where did you find this, Marcie?"
"Right over there. See that big rock? That's where I went to go to the bathroom. It was just lying there."
"Was there anything else that looked man-made?"
"Nope, I looked around some, but there was just this cap. Why?"
"I don't quite know, to tell the truth. I just, well, I'm trying to figure out if I've seen this before." After a moment's contemplation she changed the subject. Jack was approaching with the climbing gear. "OK ladies and gentlemen," she said, setting the cap down, "let's have a look at Eviskar Island."
The hike to the top of the ridge took approximately 2 hours. Despite the damp air that greeted them as they ascended the slope, the offshore breeze would occasionally push the haze away and allow sunlight to filter through. These rare periods of sunshine had dramatic effect on the party, warming them up by offsetting the cold brought on by the evaporation of perspiration during the arduous climb. All in all, by Eviskar standards, it was a gorgeous summer day.
Enthusiasm infused everyone present as they reached the ridge, not only because of the euphoria of reaching their destination, an effect mountain climbers dub "summit fever," but because the view that greeted them towards the island’s interior was quite unexpected. It was like looking out of an airplane. The mist surrounding them would break periodically to reveal a continuous field of white cloud tops below. It gave them the impression of being much higher than they really were.
Through rare gaps in the clouds lay obscure dark areas. The urge to investigate was palpable.
Debbie took stock of their immediate surroundings. Where they sat, high up on the ridge, the ground was level and windswept. Not surprisingly, no grass or other vegetation was present. The traces of snow that still graced the nearby cliffs suggested that their present location had itself been clear of the white stuff for only a few weeks. Picking her way across the plateau she came to a group of large boulders near a precipitous drop-off. She moved cautiously to the edge of the cliff. There was a sheer drop of perhaps 60 feet ending at a wide, flat shelf. Beyond the flat area the ground sloped downward, gradually disappearing into mist. Was this a viable route to access the interior of Eviskar Island? If so, then a rare opportunity was afforded them. They had the gear to safely climb or rappel down the cliff and the weather was extremely favorable. She carefully examined the cliff face. The rock was solid basalt. One large crack ran diagonally from just above its base to about half way up. Above that, numerous small holes permeated the rock where gas and volatile matter had escaped as it had cooled. "Perfect!" She thought. The climb would be short, easy and safe, an excellent place to introduce novices to the sport of rock climbing. In addition, they might be able to explore a short distance further into the island before returning to the beach. Mindful of the need to arrange a pickup from Morgan, she glanced at the sky. Their luck was holding. If anything, the weather was improving.
The students were finishing lunch when she returned. Jack was flaunting a coke he had carried all the way from the dig. Besides his backpack he had carried more than 40 pounds of climbing gear in the hike up to the ridge. Because of this, he considered the sugary drink to be a just reward. Brandishing the can for all to see he popped the top and settled back to savor his prize.