Journey to Atlantis Read Online Free

bay, which would likely be too far away anyway. I figured I could contact the RCMP by shortwave and ask them to bring an ambulance. But where would I meet them? In the storm it was almost impossible to know where we were coming in.
    When I guessed we were about an hour from land, I surfaced, turned on the radio and made the call. The storm hadn’t lessened at all and my passengers were rolling around on the floor. The radio was full of static. I didn’t know how to identify myself except by the name everyone had given me the year before.
    “This is the Submarine Outlaw. I am requesting an ambulance for two fishermen. One of them is dead. Over.”
    “… RCMP … repeat … message please … identify … position …”
    “This is the Submarine Outlaw. I have two victims from the storm. I think I’m coming in around Cape Freels. I’m not sure. I expect one hour. Over.”
    “… submarine … land? … ambulance … storm … Over.”
    “Can you set up a spotlight? I can read Morse code. Over.”
    “Roger … spotlight … ambulance … how many dead? Over.”
    “Two victims. One of them is dead. Over.”
    As we approached land I caught glimpses of lights but none of them blinking in code. Were we too far north, or south? Looking at my charts I guessed south. So, turning north, and against all my experience as a submariner, I turned on the sub’s bright floodlights, aimed them towards shore and went up the coast hoping the authorities would spot us.
    Half an hour later they did. The RCMP met us in a sheltered cove with a motorized inflatable boat. Even though the cove was sheltered, the sea tossed everything around like rain in a bucket. I saw four vehicles with lights on above the dock. Three officers motored out to meet us. They were wearing bright orange sea jackets and carrying a megaphone: two men and one woman. One man waved while the lady spoke through the megaphone.
    “Are there injured?” she said.
    I nodded and raised one hand.
    “Dead?” she asked.
    I nodded again and raised the other hand. As the boat approached the sub I noticed the lady was young and looked kind of nervous. One of the men smiled when I reached down to help him up the side of the sub.
    “So
you’re
the Submarine Outlaw?” he said.
    He looked at the sub and shook his head. He didn’t seem too interested in the fact that I was carrying wounded and dead passengers.
    “It’s pretty small,” he said. “You go to sea in
this
?”
    “Yup.”
    I was nervous because I knew my submarine wasn’t legal. What if they told me to moor it right then and there to the dock? What would I do? I just hoped they wouldn’t say anything. Suddenly, the expression on his face changed.
    “Okay, son. Show us your cargo.”
    “Umm … we won’t all fit inside,” I said. “And they’re too heavy for me to carry out by myself. We need to use a harness and rope.”
    I held up my harness.
    “No,” he said, “you better let me have a look.”
    “Okay.”
    I held onto the hatch and exchanged a nervous smile with the lady in the boat while her partner climbed inside and took a look. When he poked his head out he made a couple of hand signals to the officers in the boat and the lady spoke into her radio.
    The transfer of the victims seemed to take forever. They had to be lifted out by stretcher, one at a time. The injured man went first. I didn’t believe they would ever get the stretcher through the portal but they did. They took him to shore and put him in the ambulance and it left immediately. Then, they came back for the dead man. The critical moment for me was when they took him away and were off the sub. That was my chance to leave. No one had asked me to stay or told me to report anywhere. I watched as the policevan left. Then the three officers returned to their boat and headed out towards me. Yikes! So far I hadn’t done anything illegal. But what if they told me to surrender my sub right then and there? What if I refused? Suddenly I