Luke suddenly caught the drift. “And your ship sank on the way to San Francisco.”
“Not the ship, Mr. Lucas, the chartered excursion steamer taking the artifacts to Santa Cruz to meet the ship. According to the survivors, deep swells and whitecaps made for a rough passage. Suddenly there was a boiler explosion and fire. The people escaped to a small boat relatively unscathed, and were ultimately rescued by a passing fishing boat, but the steamer drifted away from land engulfed in flames; it then presumably sank. There was no one around to witness her last moments, but she took Zhou Man’s treasure down with her.”
An incredulous expression crossed Luke’s face like a blush. He felt as though he’d lost the thread. “I hope you’ll forgive me for asking, but what’s the problem? Your company has more than enough money to mount a search of its own. All you need is a dependable research vessel and crew, a couple of side-scan radars—computer-linked to a broadband sonar, of course—throw in a couple of RUV units and a half dozen deep-water divers, and off you go. It shouldn’t take you more than eight months to plot every piece of debris off the coast of Santa Cruz for a hundred- mile radius. If you run a thorough plot with the best equipment and the best people, the search shouldn’t cost much over three hundred thousand a week. But of course, that’s not counting little things like food, a qualified medical officer and supplies, diesel fuel, maritime insurance, and a bunch of stuff like that.”
Luke carefully watched Mr. Wu’s expression for a hint of what was on his mind, but drew a blank and continued. “Assuming that the steam launch was made of wood, which is par for the course in that era, and that she did in fact burn to the waterline, the chances of finding any trace of the hull itself are negligible at best. Being a screw-driven, steam-powered vessel means the only metal you’re likely to find would be a simple two-or three-cylinder engine and a boiler and firebox. But if there was an explosion as reported, you may not find the boiler or firebox in the same location. Then there’s the matter of a hundred years of silting. If the artifacts weren’t already effectively shattered by cold seawater coming into contact with red-hot stones, they’d probably now be buried under several meters of silt, depending on where the burning hulk ultimately went down, of course.”
Luke could see that Mr. Wu was getting the point, but the man was still curious. “Tell me, Mr. Lucas, why do you presume the stone objects were destroyed by the fire?”
“I didn’t say they were destroyed by the fire itself. The stone artifacts were most likely wrapped and sealed in some kind of waxed cloth, linen most likely, and packed tightly around with straw inside an appropriately sized wooden shipping crate, because that’s what people did in those days. Agreed?”
Mr. Wu nodded. “I will take your word for such details, but finish the equation if you please.”
“Of course, sir. So now we have a stout wooden crate packed tightly with flammables like dry straw and waxed cloth, and a fire breaks out all around. The box then becomes a self-consuming furnace; the waxed cloth and tightly packed straw make stupendous fuel. One must assume, therefore, that the temperature of those stones during the fire must have been very considerable. And if they didn’t shatter to pieces from the heat, then certainly immersion into cold seawater from that state would have done the job quite nicely. So it’s very possible that what you’d be looking for now might be little more than unrecognizable chips and chunks of stone.”
Mr. Wu was silent for a moment. “So you don’t hold out much hope of finding either the wreck or the cargo intact?”
“I didn’t say that. Anything is possible. Perhaps the boat sank before the fire reached her cargo. There were no witnesses to the final moments, so no one knows. But these days they seem to be finding every important ship that ever went to the bottom. I just don’t believe that in this particular case a full-blown research expedition is appropriate, at least not right now. For one thing, it’s far too expensive, and second, if you don’t know what you’re looking for or where to begin looking for it, you’re just wasting money. It’s far better to spend that money on preliminary research first. There is a mountain of information out there to be gleaned and cross-referenced. Things like old tidal charts, known wrecks and obstructions, historical data, even local newspapers of the period can prove helpful. Perhaps some passerby onshore saw the smoke from a fire at sea and pointed out some landmark to draw a heading upon. Who knows? But you won’t find anything without looking.”
The elder Wu nodded. “I understand. So you’re not altogether discounting the possibility that the stones could still be found intact.”
Luke chuckled. “I’m not in a position to doubt anything at all, Mr. Wu. It’s all up for grabs to my way of thinking. Perhaps the explosion blew the cargo overboard, I don’t know. But I am saying that it really doesn’t matter to me one way or the other.”
Mr. Wu looked surprised. “What do you mean, Mr. Lucas?”
“Well, I can’t speak for my colleague, of course, for I’m sure he has his own ideas on the subject, but personally I have enough evidence here to publish one whopping great paper without finding the stones at all. Your son and I have even discussed coauthoring a paper together. Our combined fields of study draw on some very powerful arguments for credibility. And now that we know the other half of the story, I really don’t believe we would be faulted for not finding the solid evidence. But perhaps someone else might, and then you can show them your ledgers. That’s going to make for a very interesting court case.”
The elder Wu appeared to be seriously digesting everything Luke had to say. After a few seconds he motioned Luke back to the dinner tables, where, magically, three snifters of fine brandy and small pots of coffee had been deposited by unseen hands. Robert stayed bent over the ledgers, making notes.
Luke resumed his seat, tasted his brandy, and smiled. “If you’re at liberty, might I ask you a question, Mr. Wu?”
“By all means, Mr. Lucas. I’ll answer if I can.”
“Since your company has known about the loss of the steam launch since 1906, how many attempts have been made to find and salvage the contents before now?”
“It’s odd that you should ask, because I only recently discovered that two attempts had been made. In 1921 a group of Japanese abalone divers were employed to make a search in a promising location. Unfortunately, the information used was erroneous and after one man died, and nothing of interest was located, the project was abandoned with bad feelings on both sides. The second attempt took place in 1938 using salvage divers from San Francisco. Both attempts proved fruitless, deadly, and rather expensive.”
“So why, may I ask, would you want to jump through that hoop again? Admittedly the equipment is better today, but the launch has had more time to bury its secrets even deeper under the silt and sands. Even if someone were successful in narrowing down the search area, there could be no guarantees of success. The launch could have drifted for hundreds of miles before she sank or, if the explosion holed her, she could have gone down very near land. Without the use of the proper equipment and the appropriate computer programs, the odds of finding the target aren’t even worth mentioning. Even with all the bells and whistles, the possibilities are slim to none. Do you have any idea how many fishing boats have gone to the bottom in the last hundred years in Monterey Bay alone? The last historical estimates indicate over one hundred and eighty reported sinkings in that span, and about half that many again that went to the bottom unreported for one reason or another. So you see, Mr. Wu, by the time your people had checked out every reasonable or promising target between Monterey and Santa Cruz, you’d be old
