Authors: William H. Lovejoy
He
was
not
in
the
best
of
moods
when
he
and
Janelle
Kay
Forester
were
married
on
June
thirtieth
.
His
outlook
was
more
up
-
tempo
two
days
laters
,
after
they
had
checked
into
the
18th
-
century
manor
house
tranformed
into
the
Harbor
View
Hotel
in
Charlotte
Amalie
.
Brande
enjoyed
playing
the
honeymooner
,
and Janelle
,
a San Franciscan,
loved
the
romantic
setting
.
They
ate
lavishly
,
made
love
on
a
whim
,
slept
late
and
dove
on
Spanish
galleons
and
more
modern
disasters
from
a
rented
boat
in
the
afternoons
.
They
crossed
to
the
British
Virgin
Islands
to
dive
on
the
Rhone,
a
British
steamship
that
went
down
in
1867
.
Encrusted
with
coral
and
sponges
,
it
was
lush
and
colorful
with
marine
life
.
And
today
,
near
the
island
of
Tortola
,
they
had
found
a
freighter
which
had
probably
been
a
Liberty
ship
.
It
was
broken
in
two
,
and
down
about
sixty
feet
.
Swimming
side
by
side
,
Brande
and
his
new
wife
explored
the
after
-
section
,
then
swam
a
hundred
yards
to
the
bow
section
.
Framed
against
the
blue
and
yellow
of
coral
gripping
the
steel
plates
of
the
wreck
and
the
orange
of
tropical
fish
swimming
in
a
dense
school
,
Janelle
was
spectacular
.
Her
short
,
dark
hair
streamed
behind
her
,
and
she
rolled
onto
her
back
,
pulled
the
air
-
supply
mouthpiece
from
her
lips
,
and
smiled
at
him
.
Brande
kicked
harder
,
attempting
to
close
with
her
.
Janelle
wrinkled
her
nose
at
him
,
visible
through
the
glass
of
her
face
mask
,
and
increased
the
fluttering
kick
of
her
own
legs
.
She
swam
backward
,
grinning
at
him
,
and
when
he
saw
that
she
was
aimed
directly
at
a
rotted
crane
mast
,
he
waved frantically
at
her
.
She
waved
back
.
Then
hit
the
mast
abruptly
.
There
was
not
much
momentum
to
the
impact
,
but
the
partially
decomposed
and
brittle
hardware
that
supported
the
crane
boom
snapped
.
And
the
boom
dropped
across
her
midsection
,
pinning
her
to
the
sharp
coral
coating
the
deck
,
her
flesh
protected
by
the
scuba
tank
.
A
flurry
of
dust
.
Startled fish
darted
away
.
Brande
surged
forward
quickly
,
reached
the
boom
,
and
peered
over
it
.
Janelle
had
replaced
her
mouthpiece
and
seemed
to
be
breathing
normally
.
Her
eyes
were
wide
and frightened
behind
the
mask
.
He
tried
to
reassure
her
by
patting
her
shoulder
,
than
braced
his
legs
against
the
deck
,
gripped
the
boom
near
her
stomach
,
and
heaved
.
It
would
not
budge
.
He
tried
several
times
,
but
the
boom
was
lodged
firmly
against
the
mast
on
one
end
and
against
the
deck
coaming
on
the
other
.
Brande figured
that
they
each
had
half
-
an
-
hour
of
oxygen
remaining
.
Floating
above
her
,
he
unsnapped
her
scuba
harness
and
attempted
to
push
the
oxygen
tank
to
one
side
,
to
give
her
room
to
escape
.
It
would
not
move
.
The
boom
was
pressing
too
hard
,
making
a
concave
gulley
across
her
stomach
.
He
tried
lifting
again
.
Janelle’s
eyes
followed
him
,
reflecting
less
panic
.
Believing
in
him
He
needed
a
lever
.
Rotating
he
searched
around
himself
for
anything
and
discovered
nothing
.
Signaling
with
two
raised fingers
that
he
would
be gone
two
minutes
,
Brande
pushed
off
the
deck
and
shot
for
the
surface
.
Their
rented
day
cruiser
was
fifty
yards
away
;
and
he
swam
for
it
.
Pulling
himself
over
the
transom
,
Brande
scrambled
around
in
the
cockpit
,
searching
lockers
and
seat
cavities
,
then
found
an
oar
for
the
rubber
dinghy
.
He
paused
for
long
enough
to
radio
a
mayday
message
,
than
went
back
into
the
water
,
stroking
for
the
bottom
,
tugging
the
oar
with
him
.
She
smiled
when
he
reappeared
.