Last Chance Harvey-Part 2 (Blogophilia 23.11)

Light was breaking the tops of the trees as Jim watched for obstructions. Sipping from his cup, he winced. God, the store coffee sucked. Oh, well. Nothing was perfect. But all in all, the trip out was uneventful for this "Choose Your Adventure" lake outing. No rain, engine issues or drunk jet ski nuts to ruin things.

Flipping up his cap up, the red bandanna mopped the up the sweat. What a deal. How many fifty year olds had the balls to take on a wild goose chase? Jobs or usually wives came first. But for Jim, there was no wife and never will be. Boat bunnies kept him happy and rarely pushed for anything permanent. If one got mad, there were two more ready to take their place. And It helped he was his own boss, buying and selling marine gear on contract.

It had been a Havana Daydreaming kind of life with no regrets. Dropping out of college and never quite fitting anywhere, he still made his way. The last place he was before he came to the lake, a girl he had dated turned up pregnant. He left the night he found out, never looking back. Yeah, it was cruel. But so is life. Women and kids bog you down from drinking and diving.

He thought of Harvey Lloyd. He was Icarus incarnate. He came to lake with nothing, crashing at a trailer over in Flowery Branch to hide from the cops. But within a couple of months he had his deal going and the money began to flow. Boats showed up over night from from all over the South, never staying long. Nobody asked questions. Who wants to ruin a guys party when he’s paying?

But it hadn't taken long for his true self to show. Hitting the head one night after poker, Jim saw him open a cabinet through the mirror. Stacks of cash almost fell out on the floor. It was impressive, but not tempting. It was bad money, anyone who touched it would come to a bad end. Was any of it still below deck? Probably not. But it was still nice to dream.

As they approached approach into the cove, a red and black cabin cruiser came up. "Two Dawg Special" was a well known party boat, piloted by Kip, a burnt out frat boy with an inheritance. Short and squat, he had always been a lake rat surviving on the surface. He never earned anything on his own. Even the cruiser had been his Dad's. But he had taken good care what had been given to him, unlike a lot of rich kids.

Jerry waved and the bigger boat pulled aside to for a chat. Two large women of indeterminate age were sitting in the front, legs hanging off the bow. Wearing white "You Only Live Once" t-shirts, they had almost predatory grins on their faces. One was in a pink one piece swimsuit that glowed under her wet shirt. She stood up and began to dance unsteadily. She pulled her partner up in a sloppy embrace. It was obvious they had started the day early, voices echoing through the cove.

The women did slow dance around the bow, then turned toward the bass boat. With a smile, Pinky stripped the shirt of her partner. There was nothing underneath. She was pretty once, but that was a long time ago. Now everything pointed toward the decks, leathery skin flapped around her middle and that wasn’t her real hair color. The absolute lack of embarrassment brought a laugh from every one.

In a whisky tinged voices, the girls asked if they liked skinny dipping. Silly girns on their faces, they pointed at the diving gear and declined the invite. They were truly Naked Lady Cove's mascots. Women of a certain age who no longer cared what the world thought. In the bars they were called lake trolls, but to both Jim any port in a storm would do.

Chit-chat over, the captain gunned the motor and headed deeper into the cove. The sudden wake cut across the sides of the bass boat, making the men grab the rail to keep balance. Jim wondered if a day with the ladies could rock the same way...Eh, maybe next time. There were too many things to do and not enough time to do them.

Jim and Jerry ended up following the cruiser into the main part of the cove, but they weren't going to the swimming hole. They were heading to a spot almost dead center between the shores about 250 yards from the main channel. Five minutes later, Jerry called out.

"Hey, Jim. Check the map. I think we are pretty close."

The laminated chart was in a pocket on the dashboard. With a quick glance, Jim nodded they were there. Jerry swung the boat parallel to the shores and cut the motor. It was obvious why no one bothered trying to find it. You would need a good size salvage rig to even attempt it. The bottom dropped like a cliff about 30 feet from shore. At some points, it was 100 feet deep. The anchor went over with a splash. while they made preparations for the dive.

"You sure this is the right place? Jim asked as he tied the diver flag on the stern cleat.

"Yeah." Jerry replied as he slipped his tank over his shoulder. "Tom and I brought his Fish Finder out her a couple of weeks ago and we got the profile. "

"So, where's Tom?"

Tom Jarrett was the Marina's main mechanic. A tall, lean guy and not much of a diver, but great at minding the gear while you are down.

"He got a call from a guy stuck up near Brown's Bridge. Broken prop shaft."

Jim shrugged and took another slug from the cup.

"So, how deep?"

"Not too, maybe 45 feet and in a fairly clear area. We ran it three days in a row to make sure." Jerry replied as he finished zipping up. "I've done a few dives in this area, but frankly I've never seen the thing. But there is a lot of crap on the bottom, and I might not have seen it."

Still a little skeptical, Jim finished up his prep. The plan today was find it, do a perimeter swim around for problems, then take a quick peek inside. They had only brought single tanks, giving them about 40 minutes of dive time, with maybe 25 of those with the wreck if they found it. If it looked promising, they could always come back.

They decided they were both going down. It was something of a risk, but they were a man short. Even if the boat broke loose, it was still only a few hundred yards to shore. They checked each others’ tanks and hose one last time and decided they were ready. Jim lined up on the port side and leaned back, letting the momentum of the weight carry him over.

The shock of impact went through his wet suit. It was early May,the water here was still cold from.all the shade. A few seconds later, Jim felt the thump to his left and turned to see Jerry settling in. Exchanging thumbs up, they adjusted their masks, blew out their regulators and flipped over to start the dive.

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Writer’s Choice:

Topic-Choose Your Own Adventure

Prompt One -Jimmy Buffett Song (Havana Daydreaming)

Prompt Two-mention skinny dipping.

Pic-Irene Melgoza

Pic guesses- lake troll, gnome, stump, Old man, driftwood,