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Even Sam seemed to warm to him, asking, “So what’re you studying?”
“This is only my first year, so there is everything. Math and history and science and politics. One day I hope to be a doctor. But that is a long time from now.” And for the remainder of the winding mountain drive, in between pointing out scenic areas of interest, he talked about his school, his seven brothers and sisters, his uncle the fisherman, and his cousin the concierge, who was also putting himself through school because, unlike the rest of their family, he did not inherit a fondness for boating. And before Remi knew it, they’d arrived at the port.
António unloaded their gear that filled his trunk. “Where is it you’re diving?” he asked.
“Out by the southern end of Snake Island.”
His smile faded. “Keep watch. My uncle tells of pirates. What sort of boat have you hired?”
“That,” Sam said, “is a good question. The Golfinho, is all we know.”
António seemed to perk up at the name. “Captain Delgado. My uncle speaks highly of him.”
“Good to hear,” Sam replied. “So how do we get in touch with you when we’re back in port?”
He pointed into town. “My uncle’s house is not that far. I can see the docks from there. It is good it is a weekend and I can stay overnight. When I see the Golfinho return tomorrow night, I will come.” He looked up at the sky and, though there wasn’t a cloud in sight, said, “Let us hope it is before the storm rolls in.”
Captain Delgado seemed to be the polar opposite of António. In his mid-forties, he was short, stocky, with permanent frown lines across his brow. He and two of his men had been waiting there, watching for them, only approaching after António drove off. “Fargo?”
“Sam and Remi,” Sam replied. “So where’s this vessel of yours?”
“Right there,” Delgado said, pointing toward the end of the closest dock.
Remi was pleased to see a fairly new catamaran research vessel. “That should do nicely.” But he continued past the gleaming forty-eight-foot boat, not stopping until they reached a dilapidated forty-two-foot fishing charter, its faded green hull having seen better days probably decades ago. “That’s the . . . Golfinho?”
The man grinned, his teeth yellowed from tobacco. “A bit rusty around the edges, but very seaworthy.”
Sam eyed the vessel. “You’re sure about that?”
“A good boat. Fast. Pirates, they leave us alone. No money, right?” He laughed.
Remi and Sam laughed with him, but with less enthusiasm. Remi, recalling António’s warning, asked, “Are there many pirates around here?”
“Some. But we have guns. We protect you.” He nodded to his men to gather the Fargo gear. “If you are ready, we load up your things and get started. We want to be on our way back tomorrow before the rain starts.”
At the second mention of weather, Remi accessed her phone just to make sure the chance of light showers hadn’t been upgraded. The symbol now showed a lightning bolt through it. Even so, it still wasn’t expected to hit until later the next evening. If they didn’t find what they were looking for tomorrow, they’d have to come back after the rain.
Once they were in deep water, Remi let her fears about the weather and the boat’s storm-worthiness rest. Aside from the occasional creaking and moaning of the ship’s hull as they cruised toward Snake Island, towing a fairly new-looking Zodiac behind them, nothing seemed amiss. Selma had vetted the captain, his crew, and his references and had assured Remi that they were reliable. Besides, António had mentioned that his uncle spoke highly of the Golfinho’s captain. That had to mean something, even though Captain Delgado and three of his four crew members looked more like pirates than fishermen. The fourth and youngest, Nuno, reminded her a bit of António, both in age and build. Unlike António, he seemed nervous, glancing over at her, then looking away whenever she made eye contact.
Remi couldn’t decide if it was her presence on board or something else bothering him and so she did her best not to look at him.
Sam noticed also, moving beside her and whispering, “Quite the motley crew, eh?”
“I’ll say. As long as the Golfinho gets us there and back in one piece, I’ll have nothing to complain about.”
As they neared the island that evening, the captain turned the helm over to one of his older crew members, then walked back toward Sam and Remi, leaning over the side next to Sam. “What brings you to the Ilha da Queimada Grande?”
“Looking for evidence of a shipwreck,” Sam said.
“Treasure?” The captain smiled. “I hear that is your specialty.”
“In this case, no. We’re here to document possible artifacts.”
“You are braver than I,” the captain said. “Too many snakes.”
“Lucky for us,” Sam said, “we only need to search the water.”
“Good thing. They could have the winning Mega-Sena lottery ticket on that rock and I would not go. Better to die an old pauper than a rich snakebite victim.”
