‘Swim first, work after,’ Dario said, smiling. ‘Be careful where you are putting your feet.’
Joe gingerly tiptoed into the water. It became clearer and clearer the further away they moved from land, and he was intrigued to see the long, tangled roots of the trees stretching downwards into the muddy seabed, almost like an upside-down forest. Colourful sponges and anemones had attached themselves to the roots, while tiny crabs scuttled up and down and shoals of small fish flitted among them, all feeding on the organisms that had their homes there.
‘Some of the roots are huge!’ he called out to Dario.
‘Old trees,’ replied Dario, who was floating on his back. ‘Some not cut down before.’
Joe turned over on to his back as well, flapping his feet to push himself away from the mangroves, enjoying the coolness of the water. Although the sun was beating down, black clouds were gathering on the horizon.
Chapter 13
After a while, Joe and Dario returned to the shore, tucked into their salted eggs, rice cakes and dried mango, then set about measuring the mangrove trunks. They stood shoulder deep in the water and each took one end of the tape measure, manoeuvring themselves round the trunks until they had an accurate record of their girths. Dario had been involved in previous surveys and knew exactly what to do. Occasionally, in order to circumnavigate a trunk, he lowered his snorkel mask over his face and disappeared below the surface of the water, re-emerging with a whoop on the far side. Joe wished he had brought his own snorkel with him, especially when Dario brought up first a prawn and then a huge starfish he had discovered.
‘They are happy here,’ Dario said, grinning. ‘Mangrove is nursery for them.’
The sky was growing blacker all the time as they continued their work. Joe thought it wouldn’t make much difference to them if it rained, but he was tiring from the effort of pushing through the water and holding up the tape measure, and it was becoming too dark to see what they were doing. At last, as the first drops of rain began to fall, Dario decided they should go back.
‘Rain might be very big,’ he said, and began to scramble on to the shore.
Just then there was a loud whoosh from somewhere not too far away. The sea began to eddy and churn. Joe tried to grapple his way on to firm ground, but a huge wave rolled towards him, washing over his shoulders and tugging at his legs. He found himself being sucked down to the seabed. He kicked and battled, gasping for breath. He felt himself being lifted again. Something caught one of his hands. He fought against it until he realised that it was Dario trying to haul him out.
‘Hold on, Joe,’ his friend called.
‘Help me,’ Joe cried when the sea dragged at him anew.
He gripped Dario’s hand with all his might, terrified at one point that the boy would lose his balance and fall in with him. But as he held on, the turbulence gradually died down and he was finally able to crawl ashore. He rolled on to his back, exhausted. Only then did he notice the torrential rain, which drummed at his face and body.
‘You OK?’ Dario asked, squatting next to him.
Joe nodded. He was beginning to shake as it dawned on him that he’d had a very lucky escape. ‘You saved my life,’ he said. ‘Thank you.’ His voice sounded strangely disconnected and the words wholly inadequate. ‘What happened?’
‘Dynamite. Someone use dynamite to fish. I go find who. You wait for me.’
Joe took in what Dario said and panicked. ‘I’m coming with you,’ he asserted, struggling to his feet. ‘I’m not staying here on my own.’
‘There might be danger,’ Dario cautioned. ‘Those people not like to be caught.’
Joe hesitated, wondering what his friend intended to do, and then it came to him like a flash. ‘It was those two men! I bet it was those two men!’
‘What men?’
‘The men on the motorbike. The same men we saw at the basketball court.’
All of a sudden, Joe was more excited than fearful. He held the clue as to who was carrying out the blast fishing, he was sure of it. If only he could remember exactly what they looked like.
‘We don’t know who it was,’ said Dario, ‘but we will see, I hope.’
He headed off through the trees, following the line of the shore. Joe ran after him.
‘Go quietly,’ Dario warned him.
It was raining so hard that the ground was beginning to flood. Muddy water splashed up Joe’s legs and rain streamed down his face. He had no idea what Dario had in mind, but in his own head he wanted to confront the men and make them aware of the damage they were doing. You’re selfish and irresponsible, and you’re destroying the planet, he imagined himself saying to them. Don’t you care? They might be dangerous, though, as Dario had said. Perhaps his friend just wanted to have a look at them so that he would be able to recognise them if he saw them again and then report them to the authorities. The best thing would be to take a photograph of them secretly and hand it to the police.
A photograph. My camera! In horror, Joe remembered he had left his camera hanging on the branch of a tree, out of its case. It’ll be wrecked!
‘My camera!’ he called out to Dario, but the older boy was too far ahead. Joe stopped in his tracks, desperate to go back and get
