Read Tears of the Moon Online

Authors: Di Morrissey

Tears of the Moon (37 page)

Ten days later he surprised her by asking, ’You still game for a trip up the coast?’

She nodded. ‘I’d like some peace and quiet. The town is still a shambles.’

‘I’d like some peace, too. Been through a bit of heart searching. I suppose I’ve come to terms with things. Nothing much I can do for the moment anyway.’

‘We’ve both suffered a loss, maybe this trip is a good idea,’ said Olivia softly.

Arrangements were made and Tyndall pointed out it was not a recreational trip but a serious pearling
expedition. He intended to dive on the new beds they’d explored previously. So far as he was aware none of the Broome luggers had worked this area. The Shamrock had been converted for diving and fitted with pumps. Ahmed would act as tender. If the diving proved lucrative they would divert their other luggers to the new grounds.

Tyndall grinned broadly when Olivia first emerged on deck in what he called her Chinese sailing pyjamas.

‘Not a word,’ admonished Olivia lightly, wagging a finger at him.

He took both hands off the tiller and held them up in mock surrender. ‘I’m too much of a gentleman, you know that. I’m surprised it even crossed your mind that I might utter an ungentlemanly remark. You look positively divine.’

‘Huh!’ But she couldn’t hold back a grin.

And that was the mood that prevailed as they fell into a comfortable routine at sea, a good humoured interaction as Olivia, tanned and toughened, threw herself into crew tasks, handling the sails, taking the tiller and even, briefly, working the pump.

The weather was peaceful, the water clear and calm. But the diving was disappointing. Time and again Tyndall appeared in a whoosh of bubbles and once on the rope ladder, before his helmet was off, he’d give the thumbs down. There was shell but it was small, the nacre thin and lustre dull.

‘These duds won’t produce pearls,’ he declared in disgust.

Olivia could see he was getting cranky with the
enterprise and so one morning suggested they go ashore and explore. They took a water container, rowed ashore, pulled the dinghy up on the beach and set off.

Following the water course through the sand dunes they were thrilled to discover it widened into a deep creek. They waded through the warm knee-deep water as the undergrowth on either side of the creek was thick and hard to penetrate. About a mile inland the creek broadened and, through the bush, cliffs suddenly appeared. Clambering round a bend they stopped and caught their breath. The creek widened into a large freshwater pool. It was fed from a waterfall that fell from the high red cliff escarpments surrounding it.

‘How beautiful!’

Tyndall waded to the small strip of crystalline red sand and dropped his shoes, hat and water container and pulled off his shirt.

‘Turn your back, I’m swimming.’ He pulled off his trousers and plunged in. ‘Come on, Olivia. It’s glorious.’ He faced the other way while she stripped down to her underwear and slid into the water.

Refreshed and relaxed, they sat in the shade looking at the sparkling pool.

‘Bit of paradise isn’t it?’ said Tyndall, smiling at the damp-haired Olivia. ‘Glad you came?’

‘Very.’

They stared at each other for a moment longer, then Tyndall leaned over and gently kissed her. ‘You look sweet,’ he said softly.

Olivia felt she was in another world. All that had
gone before them slipped away and she and Tyndall were in some time warp, some dreamscape where only these moments counted. She had no thoughts of past connections with people, places or events. There was just this beautiful place, this tranquillity, and this special man beside her. She reached for him as he did her.

Briefly, as Tyndall’s hands caressed Olivia’s smooth skin the thought flashed into his mind, that this act would lead them into deep and complicated waters. But he dismissed the future and the past and lived in this glorious moment of losing himself in Olivia’s arms and body.

Their bodies melded together with ease and felt as one. Their breathing, their mounting passion, the physical pleasure they gave each other was in tandem. Olivia felt no weight from Tyndall’s body pressing against and within her. They moved together, their bodies in a dance of love that carried them along in wild sweeps of energy then into valleys of gentle tenderness, exploring, feeling and absorbing each other. They smiled into each other’s eyes as they thrust and lingered, teasing and pleasuring. Tyndall’s lips brushed against hers as she wound her fingers in his thick hair and they whispered of the wondrous sensations they were experiencing. There was a frankness, an intimacy and a sharing of the heart, soul and body neither had experienced before.

After lovemaking that left them both breathless and stunned at the wonderment of such fulfilment, they swam in the pool again—this time joyously naked,
romping and splashing like children. Finally, they dressed and headed back to the schooner. As Tyndall rowed he gazed at Olivia’s sparkling eyes and happy smile. ‘Your face gives everything away,’ he chided.

‘You look fetchingly rumpled yourself.’

They laughed, exchanging an intimate glance, both silently pledging to try to appear circumspect in front of the crew.

Ahmed wasn’t fooled for a moment. He glanced from one to the other, noting Olivia’s flushed face, her persistent closeness to Tyndall, whose studied nonchalance was contradicted by swift and burning glances towards Olivia.

That evening after Olivia retired to her bunk, Tyndall sat in the main cabin poring over a map by lantern light. Ahmed stuck his head in the doorway. ‘We movin’ somewhere new?’ he asked, seeing the map. Ahmed was anxious to get back to serious pearling.

‘Yep. Some time back I met an old codger in a bar. Had a wooden leg. Told me the best place he’d ever seen was the Buccaneer Archipelago.’ Tyndall adjusted a protractor over the map.

‘He lose his leg up that place then?’ enquired Ahmed.

Tyndall ignored the question, remarking, ‘Easy sailing. What’s a couple of days. Could be interesting. Yes, I think we should go.’ He looked at Ahmed and couldn’t stop the slightly embarrassed smile that spread across his face. ‘Might never have the opportunity again. Good for Mem Hennessy, after the storm … and everything. Me, too.’ For the first time
that day, thoughts of Maya and Niah rushed to his mind and a shadow passed over his face.

Ahmed nodded, his expression unchanged. ‘
Bagus
. I tell boys we go … where we go, tuan?’

‘Camden Peninsula, set a course nor-north-east,’ instructed Tyndall, folding the map.

The schooner rolled in seas off Cape Leveque and the threat of bad weather forced them to pull into one of the creeks that fed into the sea. The mangrove trees were thick and protective, sheltering the creek and spreading into the ocean for several miles. Rarely disturbed, the roots grew upwards and entwined fifteen feet above the ground, forming an impassable canopy. Deciding to explore, Tyndall and Olivia picked their way through the maze of broader lower roots, using them like stepping stones. Occasionally they disturbed climbing fish basking on the tree branches and the long catfish-like creatures plopped into the marshy water or flipped across the surface.

When they eventually returned to the boat, they found Ahmed and the crew had caught several fat mud crabs and mangrove pigeons.

From then on they had perfect sailing conditions up the coast. It was plain sailing for two days, passing through Buccaneer Archipelago and Yampi Sound. They skirted a large island reef and moved closer to land and finally sailed past Camden Peninsula to Augustus Island.

‘I feel like we’re the first people ever to come here,’ said Olivia, shading her eyes to scan the lush and seemingly deserted island.

They anchored in a sheltered cove where rose-coloured sandstone cliffs soared three hundred feet to a plateau upon which several large baobab trees stood sentry on the skyline. Lush tropical growth fringed the base of the cliffs. They could hear the screech of birds and distant sound of waterfalls that glinted on the pink cliffs. Before them was a crescent-shaped white-sand beach, with tall trees casting shadows which led to crystal green water. At one end of the island the deeper green indicated the ocean floor dropped off to a greater depth.

Tyndall nudged Olivia. ‘There’s a perfect place to dive.’

‘It’s so beautiful,’ sighed Olivia. ‘It’s got a strange mood, don’t you think? It’s really inviting, but there’s also something mysterious about it. Or am I imagining things?’

‘Well, let’s go ashore and find out,’ said Tyndall buoyantly.

They went ashore in two dinghies—Ahmed, the tender and the second mate, who had brought a rifle along, followed by Tyndall and Olivia. After pulling the dinghies high onto the sand they all went in different directions to explore.

‘One shot, we shoot food, two shots quick quick, need help,’ said Ahmed.

‘What about us? What if we need help?’

‘Give a cooee. Don’t worry, I have my pistol,’ grinned Tyndall.

Olivia produced a knife in a leather sheath from her pocket. ‘I can look after myself,’ she added, taking up an aggressive stance which had the crew chuckling.

They plunged into the thick undergrowth discovering strange plants and exotic flowers. It was green and cool and so unlike the heat and barrenness of Broome. Tyndall saw a tree snake looped and draped like a vine hanging from a branch, but decided against pointing it out to Olivia.

They found a rough track that wound up to the plateau. As they climbed, they rested frequently to admire the view across the glassy waters to the model-sized schooner and islands beyond. In an overhang they spotted caves and, almost at the plateau, they came upon a ridge where a narrow ledge led to several caves.

‘Feel game enough to explore?’ asked Tyndall.

The ledge along the cliff face was wide enough to walk along, but there was a sheer drop to the jungle floor a long way below.

Olivia nodded and followed him, her heart thumping. She swallowed hard and looked only at where she was putting her feet.

They entered the centre cave, which was the biggest, and found themselves in an antechamber with smaller passages leading off it. Tyndall reached for Olivia’s hand and they ducked down a short passage to an inner cave. It was quite dark but no sooner had their eyes adjusted to the gloom than Olivia let out a screech and jumped back. Before them lay whole skeletons and assorted human bones. Skulls glared at them from sightless holes and teeth were bared in snarls.

‘Ugh. How awful. What is this place?’ she whispered.

‘Aboriginal burial cave. Hey, look at this.’ He moved forward.

‘Don’t disturb them. It might be bad luck.’

‘I won’t. I just want to have a closer look.’ He pointed to one set of bones. ‘This fellow brought his favourite things with him.’

Olivia saw a large mother-of-pearl breastplate lying amongst the bones. ‘Do you think it came from round here?’

‘Could be.’

‘Let’s leave. This place frightens me.’

They retraced their steps and made the final ascent to the plateau. Far below was the speck of one of the dinghies rowing to the schooner.

‘Maybe they’re going to sail away and leave us,’ said Olivia in jest.

‘Well, if we’re going to be marooned we might as well make the most of it.’ He grinned and took her in his arms and kissed her. They made love on the grass, by the baobab tree, at the top of a magical island, and felt they could touch the clouds. Olivia, naked in the daylight, surrendered herself to the caress of the breeze, the warmth of the sun and the whisper of Tyndall’s lips.

The next day Tyndall made the first dive off the point of the island. He rose within an hour and a basket of pearl shell spilled onto the deck. His enthusiasm bubbled over. ‘It’s magnificent down there.’ Olivia, you must see this. You said you wanted to try a dive. This is perfect. It’s only twelve fathoms and so beautiful. You’ll love it.’

His eagerness swept away her momentary apprehension. She had always wanted to see the world beneath the sea. Tyndall and Ahmed schooled her closely and she’d watched enough dives to be familiar with the procedure. Tyndall would be able to dive with her as they’d set up two hand pumps on the
Shamrock
.

The weight of the suit scared her and as she sank through the water, she felt she would never rise to the surface again. Then she felt lightheaded, as if she could float away and realised quickly she had to adjust her pressure gauge.

By the time she felt comfortable, Tyndall was in front of her, giving her hand signals and she looked about her. Nothing had prepared her for the wonderment of this eerily silent blue and green world. Tiny multihued fish darted at the glass panel in her helmet, peering in at her and darting away as one in a coloured cloud. The underwater garden waved and swayed to sea music she could only imagine. Coral, which exploded in brilliant bursts, housed all manner of microscopic life and fish. Tyndall pointed beneath a coral ledge and for a moment she couldn’t make out anything. Then two eyes came into focus and she saw the fleshy lips of a huge groper with a mouth that looked big enough to swallow a diver’s boot. Everywhere she turned was something of incredible beauty or fascination. At first she was aware of Tyndall watching her carefully, but as she moved slowly through this absorbing underwater world she forgot about him and lost track of time.

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