The Vortex

  

George Ames looked up at the sky. It was red and boiling with agitated clouds. The sea was getting increasingly rough with the waves foaming and splashing against the Jolly, a forty foot trawler he had rented for his research on the Bermuda Triangle mystery. Just a few minutes ago the sea was almost flat calm and the sky was a cloudless cerulean blue. Then it was chaos.

A huge wave splashed against the port bow drenching him and almost making him lose his hold on the ship’s railing. He was in his late 20's, tall and thin with a mustache and goatee, giving him a scholarly look.

Which indeed he was, having an advanced degree in physics. He had a theory about the disappearances in the Triangle and what caused them. He had rented the Jolly to transport him and his equipment to the exact center of the area commonly referred to as the “Bermuda Triangle”. But now he looked to be among the missing in that area. The sea was now almost totally white from its agitation and he could not help but think of the “white water” mentioned in some accounts of the disappearances. Another wave washed overboard and he almost went with it.

“Inside man!” yelled a crewman from a hatch just forward on the deck. “Are you mad staying out there!”

George entered the hatch door which caught the wind as he opened it almost throwing him off his feet. He struggled to close it and fought against the wind holding it open. Finally, with a supreme effort he did, collapsing on the pitching deck inside, utterly exhausted and dripping wet.

The crewman, named Ramos, dark and bearded, braced himself against the walls of the corridor. “Keep inside if you know what’s good for you. We’ll be lucky if we don’t capsize.”

George looked ahead and saw the captain fighting the ship’s wheel as it nearly spun out of his control, the cabins glass windows were totally awash with water.

“Waves coming everywhere! I can’t keep the bows pointed head on–we may capsize! Never have I seen it like this!” yelled the captain.

The captain, Janos, was short, fat but had a lot of strength in his powerful arms, now put to the test. Beside him was the ship’s other crewman, now desperately calling on the ship’s radio.

“Mayday! Mayday! We are in distress in a storm and may capsize. White water!” He went on to give the ships position.

The ship gave a lurch sideways as a huge wave spun it about, slamming George and Ramos against the wall. The captain fought the wheel desperately, his brow covered with sweat.

Suddenly the ship began to spin, now completely out of control as waves hit it from every angle. The ship’s bow pitched up and down then it began to turn over rolling. George was slammed against the wall losing consciousness, his last thought being the ironic one of searching for the Bermuda Triangle Mystery and now being a victim of it.

 

 

 

 

The Beginning

Jane Koval entered the offices of Ames Enterprises. She could not help but be impressed by its size and opulence. The lobby was three stories high and had a large modern sculpture consisting of sharp angles and shapes against one wall catching the golden rays of the late afternoon sun. A big crowd of people went back and forth around her intent on their business.

Jane was tall and blond, in her early twenties, and dressed in a smart business suit. Many of the men in the lobby looked at her as they went by. Being used to this kind of attention, she largely ignored it, but still got some satisfaction from it.

She caught the eye of an attractive, brunette receptionist, who looked at her with inquiring eyes. Jane walked up to her desk.

“Can I help you?”

“I’m here to meet Mr. Ames.”

“Mr. Ames is a very busy man–he only sees people by appointment. Your name is....?”

“Jane Koval.”

“Oh I see it here. Please go up to his office on the 30th floor. The elevators are right over there,” said the receptionist with a pleasant smile, but with an enquiring look in her eyes.

Jane went to the elevator and waited for it to come down, thinking as she did so. Ames Enterprises was a vast organization with many facets in its empire, especially finance. Horatio Ames was one of the ten richest people in the world. She could not understand why he would want to talk to her; marine archaeology was hardly in his line. She had achieved some recognition for her work involving the ancient indigenous peoples of the Carribean, especially their ruins now under water that had existed a thousand years ago. She had gotten into some controversy over the “underground stonework” generally thought to be a natural phenomenon but which she had evidence to prove otherwise. This had caused scorn from some of her colleges and bitter disputes. It all had to do with getting funding for various projects. If she could be discredited than others would have the advantage. Archaeology could be a very competitive field, as cut-throat as in any business. But if she could interest somebody as rich as Ames in her projects...

The elevator opened and several people got out. She found a man looking at her intently. He was big, blond and well built with a crewcut. Though he was dressed in a suit, one got the impression that he did not often wear one. A scar marred the otherwise handsome features of his strong, blue-eyed face. She turned her head and went into the elevator. As it ascended, she found herself thinking about him.

Two other men were in the elevator with her as it ascended, both dressed in conservative suits and both looking at her also intently, but with a different look than the man had. One pointedly looked at her handbag and briefcase.

“We’ll have to look at those Mam,” said the taller one as he reached out for her handbag.

Anger bristled through her and she responded, “That’s my private business! Who are you to expect me to show you!”

The man smiled ruefully, and said, “We’re with security and we must investigate any packages or containers–I’m sure you’ll understand.”

Jane still felt angry and hesitated.

The other man said, in a gravely but kindly voice, “If you don’t let us look we cannot let you into his office. I’m sorry but that’s the rules.”

Jane surrendered her items and after a brief examination they were returned to her. She still felt miffed, but also a little embarrassed. I guess, she supposed, that if you’re as rich as Ames you have to be careful, one of the down sides of being wealthy.

The elevator door opened and they walked into a large wide hall with a very high ceiling decorated with chandeliers. On the side walls were large windows giving a breathtaking panorama of the city. They reached the end of the hall and faced two large doors that were hand carved with intricate scrolling designs.

“You can go in now Mam,” said one of the security guards.

As he did so the doors opened automatically and she entered a huge office. A huge desk occupied one side of the room behind which was a man, seated in a wheelchair. He was in his late sixties, and thin, with a large shock of white hair. Though his face showed his age with its wrinkles and sagging neck, his blue eyes were intent and intelligent and carried a compelling force in their gaze.

“Please sit down Ms Kovel.” said Ames in a deep, resonant voice.

Jane did so, almost sinking into the plush leather chair.

“Would you care for anything to drink? Coffee? A mixed drink?”

“No thank you, Sir.”

“Well I think I’ll have something.” With that he pressed something on his desk and muttered a few words.

He smiled and it seemed to light up his face. Jane began to feel that she could like this man.

“I suppose that you’re wondering why I called you to my office? Let me show you.” With that he turned a picture around on his desk showing a man that looked a lot like a younger, but bearded version of Ames.

As Jane studied the picture, a maid came in with a tray. She was tall, and elegant looking, managing to look both sexy and business-like at the same time. She glanced briefly at Jane and smiled.

As she set the tray in front of Ames, she said, “It’s about time for your injection. Mr. Ames?”

Ames brushed his hand and said, “Not now Melissa. A bit later.”

Melissa bowed slightly and left the room.

“One of the things you have to put up with when you’re older–injections! Well now down to business. Do you know anything about my son?”

Jane hesitated. If she were to say no, perhaps he would be insulted. But she honestly did not know anything about the man.

“No...I don’t. Should I?”

“Well he’s also into marine archaeology like yourself, but perhaps a little less scientifically. He was investigating the Bermuda Triangle Mystery.”

Jane gave an internal groan. That was a subject of high sensationalist speculation. Mention of it in her field gave rise to derision and ridicule. She could never get financing from any of the usual sources for such an investigation.

She smiled and said, “That is a very speculative subject. Admittedly there were some strange disappearances. But if you look at any body of water in the world, you could also find similar instances of ships and planes disappearing. It happens all the time all over the world. I feel that he would have been wasting his time.”

“He felt otherwise because he believed he had concrete evidence indicating some strange events in the area. Have you ever heard of the British author William Hope Hodgson?”

“I believe that he wrote some horror stories, in particular The House on the Borderland, a classic.”

“That and more. He also wrote a book called The Boats of the Glen Carrig.”

“I’m not familiar with that one.”

“It concerns the shipwreck of that ship and the adventures of the survivors, who seemed to have gotten into a strange dimension. They found dangerous creatures, an alien land, and the shipwrecks of other vessels that were trapped as they were. It even mentions a sort of Sargasso Sea. The story concerns their adventures there and eventual escape.”

“The Sargasso Sea is near the area of the Bermuda Triangle but it is not mysterious. It simply has a lot of floating seaweed, and its not of the density that could entrap a ship of any size.”

“Still it intrigued my son and he did further research on the subject, including getting assess to some of the personal papers of Hodgson. Those papers indicated that the story was based on real events and even gave its approximate location of what may be called the “warp” that gave entry into a different dimension where the stories events were true. Evidently Hodgson felt that it would be too risky to report it as fact and presented it as fiction.”

“You say it gave a location?”

“Yes it did. Hodgson had navigation skills and the location was exactly in the center of the area called the Bermuda Triangle.”

“And did he go there?”

“He did and he disappeared. I think he may have been caught in the same dimension as Hodgson. I want you to help find him?”

“Just what could I do?” said Jane, looking uncertain.

“I want you to go the spot where he disappeared in a boat that I will charter and investigate. I have also engaged the services of a Mr. James Cutter, who owns a security company. He will provide protection for you.”

Joan sat back and looked at him, saying, “You’ve taken me aback with all this. I’m not sure how to answer you.”

“As you are no doubt aware, I have assets to fund projects such as yours. If you agree to help me on this, I will help you on a project of your choice to the tune of a million dollars or more–whatever you require. My son is important to me and I will do anything I can to find out what happened to him, and to save him if he’s alive.”

In spite of her doubts, the mention of funding reached her. She had in mind a number of projects that she would dearly love to undertake. Projects that would undoubtedly be rejected by the usual sources of funding. In particular the Bimini Wall...

“In addition, you will be paid a salary of $50,000 a month and all expenses will be paid by Ames Enterprises-- If you need time to think on it...”

“No. I will do what you want. But I will need to have access to all information you can give me about your son and his activities leading up to his disappearances.”

“You shall have it. When you leave my office there is a package for you containing my son’s papers as well as access to his computer files. If you need anything else, do not hesitate to ask.”

Jane stood up and said, “Thank you very much, Mr. Ames–I will do all that I can.”

“I’m sure you will and by the way here is the card of Mr. Cutter. He will be contacting you about travel arrangements.”

 

Jane went down the elevator feeling a bit dazed and a bit excited. If she could get the funding she had dreamed of... She hefted the canvas bag that contained the written records of George Ames. There was a surprising amount of it and she would go through it carefully.

 

She spent the rest of the week going through the records and found some surprising data. George Ames was very through and scientific even though his background was in business administration and not archaeology. He had thoroughly researched all the information he could find about the Triangle and found that if he triangulated the incidents of disappearance they all seemed to center around a particular spot and even around a phase when the moon was full. He had it marked on the map with coordinates.

This as she knew would still leave a lot of ground to cover even if the distances were down to seconds of arc. But with modern GPS tracking it would be considerably easier than it would have been before.

She next looked at the book, The Boats of the Glen Carrig by William Hope Hodgson. She found it a very entertaining read but still it is fiction she thought. Then she saw some papers fall out of the back of the book.

The were copies of letters written by the author concerning the events of the book:

...I have written the account as a work of fiction but it is based on a manuscript giving a true account. I was in an old book shop in the Strand when I discovered them. They were enclosed in a leather packet. Examining them, I saw that they were old script, mid 18th century and still readable. I saw that they concerned the sea, always a matter of great interest to me and decided to purchase them.

The author’s account is given in the story pretty much verbatim without embellishment on my part except where necessary due to grammar and missing sections. I decided to publish it as fiction, realizing while it is an entertaining read, I would be exposed to ridicule if I were to publish it as fact.

I have given the coordinates of the position of the Glen Carrig as near as I could determine from the book. I could not help but notice that the area is rife with disappearance of ships both sailing vessels and steam. Many of theses vessels have no mention except as “foundered” in the books of the insurance companies.

For myself, I was on a ship, the Sea Queen, one of the last clippers in the 90's in the general area. My station was high on the main royal sail, which we were setting, trying to get the outmost out of any scrap of wind due to a calm. I could see agitated water some miles to port which was a surprise because all around us the sea was calm. I called to the mate, who, incredulous, climbed up to my perch and trained his glass on it. He was very surprised and did not know what to say. He let me view the disturbance with the glass and I could see a good deal of agitated water with waves that could have swamped the ship had we been in them. But we were soon past them and on our way to England.

Reading the account made me think of this incident. What could have caused rough water on a calm sea? A whirlpool? Or perhaps it would have led somehow to the land described in the manuscript.

 

Jane reflected on the letters. She noticed that the coordinates given where pretty close to those marked down by George Ames. She had heard of the Bermuda Triangle stories that were particularly popular in the 70's and 80's.

The most popular was the one concerning the loss of the six Avenger torpedo planes near Florida in the 40's. All were lost without trace on a simple training exercise. Even more intriguing was the subsequent loss of a search plane the following day. One of the few messages that were received was a reference to “White Water”, a word that increasingly popped up concerning disappearances in the Triangle. The explanation generally given by the authorities was that it was due to a navigation error on the part of the lead pilot, that he had somehow convinced himself that he was west of Florida instead of East of it, thereby going further away from land instead of closer. Still the man was said to have been experienced; he was instructing the other five pilots in navigation. The missing search plane was said to have been lost due to smoking cigarettes on board the aircraft causing a fuel explosion. While smoking was common to the era and the craft in question was known to be highly subject to fires, it still seemed like a glib explanation.

Another incident was the huge cargo ship Cyclops which disappeared without trace. Anything of its huge size should normally have left at least some sign of what happened, but it was totally gone, like the Avengers. One theory about that was the supposed existence of chemicals on the ocean floor that could have been activated somehow. Still, it seemed a weak explanation.

The most intriguing thing however was the concentration of incidents in a single area. Looking at it on the map did not reveal anything out of the ordinary. There was no volcanic activity in the area that would produce huge tsunami waves, nothing of any geological note from the rest of the area. Except for one thing, the weather. Hurricanes seemed to form there extremely often and would create havoc for people in the western Atlantic. Meteorologist cited wind patterns and movements of cold, warm air to account for it. But could it be something else?

George Ames went out to investigate the spot that corresponded to the center of the area. Jane looked at the map and notices that the “Bimini Walls” seemed to point in the same direction. These were huge blocks of what looked like stone work on the ocean floor. They were passed off as natural formations but their size and regularity seemed to make that suspect. Jane had spent time exploring them and took out her map, to be included in the book she was hoping to publish one day. The lines of the ruins seemed to point to the spot that George Ames was going to.

Could there be a connection? Could there be some structure at the center that caused the disappearances? Perhaps the wall was the remnants of some ancient advanced civilization. She felt an

Impressum

Verlag: BookRix GmbH & Co. KG

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 18.05.2020
ISBN: 978-3-7487-4192-3

Alle Rechte vorbehalten

Widmung:
This book is dedicated to William Hope Hodgson. His novel The Boats of the Glen Carrig was my inspiration for this story.