Cape Disappointment

 

Cape Disappointment

6:45 a.m.

 

Under a gray morning sky, the U.S. Cost Guard rescue vessel, Chinook, raced head-on to meet another fifteen-foot wall of raging white water.  With a bone-rattling smash, the wave stopped the vessel in its tracks, lifting its bow as it dropped more than twenty tons of sea onto the four-man crew.

Lieutenant Eric "Big Daddy" Wisdom smiled from his vantage behind the pilothouse as he watched cadets Geary and Richardson hold on for dear life.  Both men were trainees enrolled in the Coast Guard's heavy-surf and weather rescue course, taught exclusively in the waters off Cape Disappointment.  Wearing protective helmets and heavy weather gear, the two cadets were harnessed to a steel rail mounted behind the open pilothouse.  Today marked the two trainees' first initiation to what Big Daddy called "challenging waves," and Mother Nature was cooperating beautifully.

Fed by fierce Pacific storm centers, ferocious waves race across thousands of miles of open ocean, often traveling a week or more before arriving at the Northwest coastline.  Approaching Cape Disappointment, these powerful swells become enormous walls of churning sea, battering anything in their path.  More than two thousand vessels have sunk off Cape Disappointment since the early 1800s, making the waters off the Oregon/Washington coast some of the fiercest in the world.

Big Daddy Wisdom leaned forward to shout to his pilot.  "Deacon, how do we look?"

"Winds at thirty-one knots, waves at thirty-three miles per hour.  About a seven on the Beaufort scale."

"Perfect.  Take us out a bit farther.  We'll teach our boys here a little more about humility, then let them get acquainted with Oscar."

Deacon flashed him a thumbs-up, then yelled out, "Starboard bow—starboard bow, hold on, we'll push!"  The wall of white water crashed into the boat, lifting it clear over its swell before slapping the airborne vessel thirteen feet down into the ocean.

"Hang on, kiddies, hang on. Two more coming, negative front—"

Geary and Richardson ducked behind the pilothouse as the Chinook rose up over the swell, its entire hull exposed in mid-flight.

"Whoah-hoo!" yelled Big Daddy as the vessel plunged bow first back into the sea.  For a frightening moment they were in up to their waists, and then the craft righted itself, bobbing like a cork in an ocean of lather.

"Hold on," Deacon yelled, fighting to realign the bow before the next blow.  The pilot wiped foam from his face, bracing himself against the wheel as yet another thunderous wall of water rushed at them head-on.

 

*        *        *        *        *

 

The Megalodon moved lazily through the thermocline, its caudal fin just barely keeping the big fish above stall speed.  Mouth slightly agape, its slack lower jaw quivered reflexively as it breathed in the sea, which rushed through its mouth and gills.  Shards of blubber hung from gaps between the predator's serrated teeth, all that remained of the 7,600-pound male elephant seal the shark had devoured only hours earlier.  Satiated for the moment, the monster continued its northward trek.

Beneath the creature's teethlike skin, running from head to tail along ether side of its muscular torso, was a sensory canal known as the lateral line.  Connected to the surface of the skin by small tubes, this canal contained specialized cells called neuromasts.  Variations in pressure within the predator's environment stimulated thousands of cilia within this incredibly sensitive movement detector, which was capable of registering even the faint heartbeat of an animal moving through water miles away.

The Megalodon remained within an acoustics waterway resonating with the vibrations of a thousand migrating whales.  The pods were well aware that the hunter was close, just as a herd of zebra knows when a lion is about.  But the cetaceans could also sense the predator had recently fed, and therefore, would not attack unless provoked.  Still, they gave the beast a wide berth as it followed them north along the Oregon coast.

As the shark moved past Cape Disappointment, its lateral line detected a different kind of reverberation along the surface, one too massive to ignore.  Aroused, interpreting the buffeting vibrations of the Chinook as a direct challenge, the Megalodon deviated from its course to respond.

 

*        *        *        *        *

 

"Stand by, Captain," Dr. Maren called out from his SOSUS station.  He readjusted his headphones, listening intently.

Jonas could see beads of sweat form on the man's forehead.

"The Squalus just changed course.  She's now heading due east.  Damn, her speed's increased, too.  Something must have spooked her."

"Or gotten her attention," Jonas said.  "Captain, how close are we now?"

"Just under five miles, but we'll have to make a course change if the Megalodon's moving into shallower waters.  Harry, take us farther out to sea.  We'll circle back and approach from  the west."

Maren looked up, obviously annoyed.  "Is that really necessary, Captain?  We're so close—"

"Coast Guard reports fifteen-foot breakers.  I can't risk taking those waves broadside."

Jonas left the control room and descended two flights of stairs, emerging on the main deck.  He jogged to the stern, where the AG-I  submersible was being readied by two crewmen.

Mac and Dief were standing next to an immense hunk of whale blubber suspended from the large housing and winch fastened to the stern's deck.  They waved him over.

"How's your head?" Mac asked.

"Pounding like a son of a bitch.  Sorry about flipping out last night."

"Forget it.  Where's your fish?"

"Moving toward shore.  I take it the bait's for luring her topside.  Where'd you get the whale meat?"

"Fished it out two nights ago," Dief said, taking a drag from his cigarette.  "All that remained from one of her previous meals."

"You nervous, Dief?" Jonas asked.

"Hell, yes," he smiled.  "Any last words of advice?"

"Yeah, don't go."

"Thanks a lot."

Mac slapped Dief on the back.  "You'll be fine.  Just don't enter the water until we contact you from the copter.  Jonas, if you don't mind, I want to be airborne before those waves slam into the William Beebe 's ass."

 

*        *        *        *        *

 

"Hold on, boys," Big Daddy yelled.

The wall of white water exploded over the bow with the power of a raging river.

"Okay, Cadet, toss Oscar!"

Geary reached down and unclasped the life-size training dummy from its leash.  "Man overboard, starboard bow," he yelled, tossing Oscar into the sea.

"Standby," Deacon yelled.  "We'll come around the moment we get a hole."

"Hang on," Big Daddy said, "here comes a widow-maker!"

Deacon drove the Chinook 's bow into the barrier of water, hitting the swell just before it broke.  The small boat catapulted over the wave, the twin screws spewing water into the air.  And then the boat righted itself as the blades gained a foothold on the sea.

Deacon spotted the next swell approaching on the horizon.  "Hold on, I'm coming about."

He turned hard to starboard, pointing the bow east against the incoming wave.

"There's Oscar," Geary yelled, pointing off the port bow.

"Richardson, stand by with your rescue hook," Big Daddy ordered.  Staring over the transom, he watched the approaching swell race toward them from behind.  "Faster, Richardson, go-go—"

Richardson reached over the starboard bow and hooked Oscar, pulling him back on board just as the fifteen-foot torrent of ocean burst over the transom, knocking him flat on his back.

"Goddamn," Big Daddy said.  "What the hell happened to Oscar?"  He held the dummy up, inspecting what little remained of its upper torso.

"Jesus, Lieutenant, it looks like something bit it in half."

"Oh, Christ Almighty . . ."  The memory of the seventy-two-foot great white feeding in the Tanaka lagoon flashed in his mind's eye.  Big Daddy had taken his family to see the monster only four months earlier.  He broke into a cold sweat, his mind overcome by fear.  "Deacon, take us in now!"

With a tremendous thud, the Megalodon's head struck the hull of the Chinook, cracking four of its support ribs and caroming the boat sideways.

Deacon fought to regain control.

Big Daddy Wisdom looked to his left, swearing aloud as he ducked.

The churning fourteen-foot wave barreled into their exposed port side, pushing the vessel forward as it lifted, then rolled the boat upside down.

Big Daddy felt the breath explode from his chest as he was dragged underwater, the thunderous roar of the ocean above his head overwhelming his senses.  He opened his eyes to find himself submerged, caught within his safety harness as a powerful force tried to tear him away from the deck of the inverted Chinook.

Locating the line of his harness, he pulled his way to the safety clip and freed himself.  Pushing away from the inverted deck, he surfaced, shivering from the cold.

Deacon appeared a moment later.  "Lieutenant, behind you—"

Big Daddy turned to see an orange helmet bobbing at the surface.  He swam to Geary, who was barely conscious, his life vest barely keeping his head above water.

"He's still attached to his harness," Big Daddy yelled to Deacon.  "I need to free him before the next wave hits.  Find Richardson."

Deacon saw another wave approaching fast.  He ducked his head and surface dived.

The Coast Guard captain had to kick hard to descend beneath the capsized hull, the cold water biting into his skin, making every movement doubly hard.  Grabbing onto the boat's rail, he pulled himself down another five feet until he was level with the inverted deck.

He spotted Richardson.

The cadet had become entangled in his harness.  Deacon stared at the bulging eyes of the corpse, now bobbing against the submerged deck.  The face was a frozen mask of terror.

A strange glow caused him to look down.

Deacon tried to scream, expelling his air as his mind snapped.  Overwhelmed by primal fear, he paddled upward in maddening strokes, slamming his head hard against the submerged deck.

Rising vertically, the Megalodon opened its mouth and gently plucked its struggling victim away from the boat.

Deacon felt daggers clasp onto his kneecaps, pulling him away from the Chinook.  Grabbing the rail, he tried to hold on.

With an agonizing snap, his legs severed in the demon's mouth.

The Angel of Death rose, stretching her unfathomable jaws wide open, chomping down on Deacon's upper torso and three feet of aluminum rail.

 

*        *        *        *        *

 

Big Daddy shook Geary until the cadet moaned.  "Wake up, son, and hold on!"  He ducked underwater, dragging himself below by the leash of Geary's safety harness.  The safety line led him straight to the inverted steel rail.  He grabbed Geary's safety clip in his numb fingers and strained to unfasten the line.

The his eyes bugged out in absolute terror.

Suspended vertically, hovering directly beneath the capsized boat, was a stark-white creature at least twice the size of the Chinook.  The gargantuan head shook, its hideous mouth gnashing upon Deacon's freshly mangled remains.

Big Daddy pinched his nose, choking back the acidic bile that rose in his gut.  A flash of orange showed from above—Richardson's drowned corpse.  Still secured to the boat by its harness, the dead cadet bobbed against the submerged decking.

Wisdom's heart ticked like a bomb ready to explode.

A menacing gray eye glanced up at him.  In his feverish madness, Big Daddy heard Angel's demonic voice speak to him as her quivering jaws opened and closed.  Yes, Big Daddy, I'll be with you in just a moment . . .

A deafening roar in the distance broke the spell.

The Megalodon ascended toward Richardson's bobbing corpse.

Afraid to move, Big Daddy gulped, his lungs screaming for air.  The roar from above thundered like a freight train.  Fighting to hold his breath, he closed his eyes as the prodigious mouth closed on Richardson's body.

A thought came to him.  He opened his eyes, then ever-so-gently unclipped Geary's harness from the rail.

The gray eyeball turned, registering movement.

Big Daddy hastily wrapped the freed end of Geary's leash around his forearm and clenched his teeth as the eye searched for him.

 

*        *        *        *        *

 

Geary snapped out of his delirium to gasp at the roaring horizon of white water bearing down upon him.  He gulped a breath and ducked instinctively, pulling himself below by his leash.

Big Daddy spun around, Geary's actions tugging him upward/

Homing in on the movement, the Megalodon rose majestically toward the source.

Paralyzed by fear, Big Daddy could only watch as the creature's mouth seemed to yawn open before him, stretching out below him like a tunnel.  A current sucked him closer.  He closed his eyes.

Through blurred vision, Geary saw the albino's glow.  Fear drove him back toward the surface, his mind oblivious to the roar.

The wave slammed into the cadet, capturing him within its rolling vortex.

Launched upward by the arm he had wrapped in Geary's harness, Big Daddy opened his eyes—horrified by hideous pink gums and an upper jaw that seemed to jut forward at him.  The lieutenant's heart seized in his chest as the nine-foot mouth slammed shut upon empty ocean; Wisdom literally yanked out of the jaws of death by another incredible force of nature.

The wave hauled Geary and the trailing Eric Wisdom two hundred yards inland before releasing them.  Big Daddy surfaced, gagging and screaming and hyperventilating, his shattered mind gone beyond reason.

Something grabbed him and he lashed out blindly, striking Geary on the nose, drawing blood.

"Lieutenant!  Lieutenant, calm down —"  The cadet located the cord on Wisdom's life preserver and pulled it, inflating the orange vest.

Big Daddy stopped thrashing.

Geary saw the terror in the lieutenant's eyes just before the older man lost consciousness.

 

*        *        *        *        *

 

"Mac, to your left . . .  I see something floating at the surface."  Jonas focused his binoculars on the object bobbing in the sea as Mac angled the helicopter closer.  "Damn, it's the hull of a capsized boat," Jonas said.  "I don't see any survivors."

"I'll radio the Coast Guard," Mac said.

Another powerful swell churned by, the hull disappeared beneath it.

"Mac—"

The wave had rolled the boat back into an upright position.  Floating atop the sunken deck, tethered to a rail, was a bleeding, half-eaten human corpse.

As Jonas watched, the Megalodon surfaced next to the rail, pushing its snout sideways in an attempt to snare the gushing remains.

"Oh, Christ."  Shaking with rage, Jonas leaned out of the cockpit and screamed, "I'm going to kill you, Angel, you hear me!"

Mac grabbed him by his elbow and yanked him back inside, shocked by the expression of madness on his friend's face.

Jonas turned to see the caudal fin slap across the surface as the creature abandoned the sunken craft.  "Where's she going?  She's moving toward shore—"

"Jonas, calm down."

"Mac, move, go . . . head east, hurry!  There might be someone else out there."

Mac spun the chopper toward shore.

Jonas watched the gray-green waters as the helicopter's shadow passed over an ivory blur.  He grabbed the binoculars and searched the sea.  "Mac, there."  He pointed to an orange life vest being waved above the surface and knew the Meg was racing toward the same spot.

Jonas ducked into the rear of the chopper and slid back the cargo door, his leg throbbing from the effort.

"Hold on," the ex-Navy pilot yelled, accelerating ahead of the fifteen-foot wall of churning sea.  The airship dropped precariously to soar just above the surface.

Mac braked hard, nearly tossing Jonas out of the cargo area as he spun the chopper in a tight circle to face the incoming barrage of water.  "Move your ass, Jonas!"

Jonas was already out the door, both feet positioned precariously on the landing struts.  He heard the roar to his left as he grabbed the unconscious lieutenant by the life vest, hauling him on board as the other man pushed from the water.  The cadet lunged, grabbing Jonas's wrist with one hand, the landing struts with the other—as a heart-stopping glow rose up beneath him.

"Go!" Jonas screamed.

Mac yanked the joystick back, causing the airship to leap skyward as the creature's head rose above the surface, eyes rolled back, jaws fully hyperextended to engulf the legs of the dangling cadet.

A wave exploded against the Megalodon's upper torso, driving the beast back into the sea.  A river of foam buffeted Jonas, the cadet's hand sliding within his grasp.

A scream—as the young man slipped from the landing strut.

Jonas watched him plummet thirty feet into the sea.  "Mac, we lost him!  Go back—"

Grabbing the rescue harness, Jonas shoved his arms inside and released the safety catch on the spool of steel cable.  Spotting the orange life vest, he jumped.

"Goddamn it, Jonas!" Mac yelled.

Jonas plummeted feetfirst into the cold Pacific.  He sank six feet before the cable nearly dislocated his shoulders, then kicked hard to the surface, the soaked bandages on his injured leg weighing him down.

Geary wrapped his arms around Jonas's neck in a suffocating bear hug.

Jonas saw Angel's dorsal fin appear behind the cadet.  The glistening snout broke the surface, two huge nostrils flaring as the fish snorted the sea like a mad bull.

The bruising noose of steel cable wrenched Jonas and his passenger into the air, driving the breath from his chest, crushing his rib cage.  The combined weight of the two men sheared the skin along Jonas's armpits, the canvas flailing in the wind.

Unable to activate the winch, Mac could only watch as the two men dangled helplessly from forty feet of cable.

A blur caught Jonas's eye.

Angel breached, attempting to snag her prey just as she had in the lagoon.  Jonas caught himself staring down into her yawing gullet as the man in his arms began sliding and slipping from his grip.

Jonas dug his fingertips into Geary's life vest just as the helicopter lurched to a higher altitude.

The Megalodon disappeared.

Icy tears clouded Jonas's vision as the wind tore into his face.  His arms felt numb.  He squeezed his eyes shut, struggling to maintain his grip.

Geary continued slipping, his face sliding past Jonas's chest.

Jonas lunged forward, biting into the cadet's life vest and coiling his good leg around the man's waist in a vain attempt to stop him from falling.

The cold wind howled in Jonas's ears.  He heard the cadet whisper, "Can't . . ."

They seemed to slow, and then the deck of the William Beebe miraculously appeared below their dangling legs.

Fabric tore from Jonas's teeth as Geary's limp body slipped from his grasp.  The cadet fell twenty feet to the main deck.  Jonas slipped out of the noose, dropping in a heap to the deck seconds later.

Lying on his back, too numb to move, Jonas stared up at the swirling gray skies, listening as the chopper landed somewhere to his left.

Footsteps bounded across the open deck.

A beautiful face blotted out the sky, blond hair blowing in the wind.  Warm hands embraced his frozen cheeks—soft lips parting, pressing against his in a prefect embrace.