Page 352 of The Romance Adventure

Twenty minutes later, Jolie stands at the end of the dock wearing a white sundress, a wide-brimmed hat, and oversized sunglasses. Her tan skin glows and she waves as I pull up. “Hello, sailor. This is quite the big boat you have.”

“Good morning. How’d you sleep?”

She shrugs noncommittally. “I smell coffee.”

“And I got muffins, thanks to Robyn at Beans and Books.”

We get underway and I tell Jolie about the Petrel’s logbook, Robyn found that recorded the wreckage of the Crimson Tide. “The barque took some serious cannon fire and then ran aground in Middle Bight Cay.” I point eastward.

Her eyes widen a fraction. “Maré Carmesim?”

“We found the coordinates in the logbook, but the boat wasn’t there. Then Harley recalled two things. One, a place her uncle called Sailor’s Folly, and a map she saw at the top of the old lighthouse with the location of various shipwrecks.”

“Let me guess, there was a barque marked at Sailor’s Folly.”

I click my tongue. “You got it.”

“And you’ve waited to check the lead because⁠—?”

“It’s not called Sailor’s Folly to be funny. Lots of boats go down there.”

“So, we took out the biggest one?”

“Go below and you’ll see why.”

Jolie doesn’t return for almost ten minutes. When Chip showed us the underwater viewing panel in the hull, my brothers and I were mesmerized. Seeing the swaying seagrass, the passing fish, and the silent underwater world was better than any movie or video game we’d ever seen.

However, now, it’s my wife who mesmerizes me when she settles by my side as I guide the boat with practiced ease.

“I like this,” I say casually.

“Being on the water? It’s practically your second home, what with the diving and the surfing and sailing.”

“I mean out here, in my favorite place with my favorite person.” I’m not trying to butter her up, but it’s the truth. I just wish I knew the entirety of it because I can’t help but feel like she’s keeping something from me.

Jolie’s ensuing silence doesn’t give me confidence that I’m not overthinking things.

As we continue, the sky remains clear and the water calm. Hope joins me as we near Sailor’s Folly.

“Will you head below and watch for anything that looks like the remains of the boat? I have the depth and fish finder on, so I’ll keep a lookout from here too.”

She salutes me and says, “Aye aye.”

Her playful reply makes me think that I was going overboard in my head.

An hour passes as we navigate around the area, but nothing shows up other than sandbars and a manta ray.

Dropping anchor, I go below deck. “I’m going to dive. The sand could’ve covered up the remains of the Crimson Tide. I’ll have a better view of anomalies without the glass.” I rap on the viewing window and notice a little condensation. “I’ll make it quick.”

I consider going down with equipment, but because we don’t see so much as a trace of the barque, I opt to free dive.

The process is much the same, only it doesn’t involve oxygen. If I find anything promising, I’ll get the gear.

But after taking a great swim, I discover nothing. This trip turns out to be little more than a lovely morning with my wife. I’m glad for the time together, even if she’s relatively quiet and like she’s playing a game of Red Rover—sometimes it’s like I have her full attention and others, it’s as if she runs away from me.

Back at Coco Key, I reverse the process from this morning and take the Big Boat out of the water to check the glass viewing panel for leaks and make the necessary repairs.

Jolie seemed perfectly content on the water but shrinks slightly when we’re met with a welcoming committee.