"Surfing Treasure's Wake" Chapter 28 - The Swell

“Surfing Treasure’s Wake”, a tale of morality, faith and a young man’s desire to reunite with his estranged father.


In 1715, the Spanish galleon the San Miguel is caught in a terrible hurricane off the south end of Amelia Island. Black water rushes across her decks. Crew members lash their bodies to whatever object they can reach. Below decks, Isabella Rojas and her six terrified children desperately pray to God for help. Finally, she bounds herself and each of her doomed children to a single strand of rope in a vain attempt to save them, before all are washed overboard into the black stormy seas. Each child desperately struggles for life, each eventually drowning as their increasingly-dead weight finally pulls Isabella beneath the stormy seas where they now rest, waiting to be released from their watery graves.

Marc, a sixteen-year-old surfer and his mother, Lisa, have recently moved to Fernandina Beach, Florida, in the hopes of finding a better life, after Marc’s abusive father abandons them following a tragic accident, in which Marc tries to protect his mother from his father’s violent temper. Marc, feeling it was his fault his father left, carries this burden on his too young shoulders.

As this story unfolds, Marc encounters an old witch who tells him to “Trust the spirits. Let them show you the way.” Then, while surfing one day, he meets Sponge Bob, a retired local treasure hunter and boogie boarder. Together, as their friendship grows, they try to solve the “Legend of Isabella Rojas” as Marc encounters her ghost and that of her six children; each providing clues about where they drowned. If Marc can find Isabella’s golden medallion of the Virgin Mary, then he can free their souls from their watery graves and will be rewarded with something greater than gold or silver.

But Marc is also haunted by a dream of a murdered Calvary trooper and a buried tin box full of gold, located somewhere around the Casa Grande, Arizona area; the same area where his estranged father went treasure hunting years before and stole a suitcase full of money from Manuel, a spiritual Mexican farmer. Because of his father’s actions, Marc’s guilt forces him to befriend Jesús, Manuel’s son, and to help him find that buried tin box full of gold.

Yet, Marc continually runs across the path of his estranged father, who is also after that same tin box of gold. Marc struggles with his emotions to reunite with him, only to finally realize his ultimate truth.

After a tragic turn of events, Marc fulfills the “Legend of Isabella Rojas” and is rewarded with something he has been secretly hoping for. But his reward comes with a high price. And in the end, it’s Jesús who helps him to understand this.

Ghosts, surfing, lost treasure and the colorful history of Amelia Island set the background as Marc tries to solve the “Legend of Isabella Rojas” and to right the wrong his father committed against Manuel and Jesús, all the while searching to fill the void in his young heart his father left behind.

Chapter 28

The Swell

   The next morning, tropical storm Alberto was approximately four hundred miles east of Jacksonville. As predicted, Alberto continued to veer off into the middle of the Atlantic. But, her wind blown waves were crashing onto the beaches of Amelia with ten to fifteen foot breakers.
   Marc heard his telephone ring early. It was Kip wanting to know if he wanted to go surfing.
   “Of course!” Marc replied.
   “Ever surf a tropical storm? The waves are really big.”
   “No, but as long as I can get out…”
   “Garth’s going to use his jet ski. We’re going to the south end. I hear the waves are breaking all the way across to Bird Island.”
   “Can you drive? Mom’s car’s still in the shop.”
   “No problem. See you in a bit.”
   Kip swung by and picked Marc up. Steve also tagged along hoping to snap some photographs of this once in a decade event.
   Arriving at the south end, they were amazed at the size of the waves. The white topped breakers were crashing all the way across the inlet. It looked to Marc like the ocean was nothing but one big breaking avalanche.
   Soon, Garth jetted up the inlet, through the rolling choppy water, the jet ski spouting a high rooster tail of water from behind. He beached his jet ski and walked up to the three of them. “Okay, gents, whose up for this.”
   “I’ll go first,” Kip said, then turning to Marc. “I’ll wait for you just beyond the lineup. Garth’ll be on watch, on his ski. He’ll zip in and pick us up if we fall.”
   “Um, okay,” Marc responded, feeling his nervousness creep into his stomach.
   Garth fired up his ski and took off with Kip seated behind, his surfboard under his arm.
   Marc watched them disappear as they bounced beyond the breakers, as Steve set up his tripod and camera, attaching the long black telephoto lens last.
   “You ready for this?” Steve asked Marc.
   “I can’t wait. Ever see that movie, Big Wednesday?”
   “Great movie. Today is big Monday! You ever surf anything this big before?”
   “Sure,” Marc lied.
   “Just keep your head on straight and don’t get too carried away. Remember, Garth’s out there watching, so use him,” Steve said, meeting Marc’s eyes.
   “I will. Don’t worry, I will.”
   A short while later, Marc heard Garth’s jet ski and then saw him come into view, again being followed by the jet ski’s long arching water spout. Marc continued to watch as Garth again beached his ski.
   “Marc, you gotta see those waves! They’re perfect!” he said. “Ready to go Scratch?”
   Marc climbed on board. Then Garth gunned the ski back out into the channel. As they approached the mouth of the inlet, Garth slowed to a stop.
   “What’s up?” Marc asked.
   “Waiting for that set to pass, so we can get out,” Garth replied.
   They sat, bobbing up and down for a few minutes watching the waves crash, feeling the surge of water lift them high. Then Garth twisted the throttle. The jet ski jumped forward, as if it were a dolphin clearing the surface.
   “Here we go!” Garth said, as Marc increased his grip on the ski’s side handles.
   They raced straight ahead. They could see Kip sitting on his board, rising up and down, beyond the point where the waves were breaking.
   “Uh oh,” Garth said to himself.
   “What?” Marc overheard.
   “This is going to be close!” Garth screamed, seeing Kip rise higher than normal, up and over an incoming wave.
   “That wave’s going to break right on us if we don’t get over it,” Garth yelled over his shoulder.
   Marc held on even tighter.
   They roared toward the rising mountain of water. The peak rose directly in front of them, as they raced up its face. Then, just as the wave was about to break, the jet ski cleared the top and leapt into the air.
   Marc felt his stomach rise. He dropped his board in mid air, right before the jet ski crashed down, bouncing him off.
   “Yeah!” Kip yelled, watching it all happen.
   Garth immediately turned the ski around to see if Marc was alright.
   Marc nodded his head, as he swam over to retrieve his board. Then the three of them came together to talk.
   “I’ll be in the channel. If you fall, wait for me to come and get you. Don’t try to fight this. It’s too crazy. Okay?” he said to Kip and Marc, mostly Marc.
   Then Garth took off, zipping down the face of a smaller wave, back into the inlet, into the middle of the channel, where he watched and waited.
   Kip and Marc paddled into the lineup.
   “Let me go first,” Kip said.
   “Be my guest!” Marc offered, as a set began to roll in.
   “The sets are coming in waves of five. The second and third look the cleanest,” Kip informed Marc, as they both rose high up over the first wave.
   The second wave peaked to their right. So, they waited for the third. It rose up and was about to break directly on top of Kip when he turned his board around and began to paddle, hard.
   The last thing Marc saw was Kip kicking and paddling, as the monster picked him up and launched him down its face. Marc sat behind the rolling wall of water, wondering if Kip had made it. Then the wave peeled both ways. Marc saw the bottom of Kip’s board shoot above the top of the wave and back down, as Kip hit the lip.
   A few moments later, Marc saw Kip surf his board up and over its back, ending his ride.
   “Yeah! Yeah!” Marc heard Kip yell, as Kip paddled back to him.
   “Oh man! You’ve got to try this! I’m so stoked!” Kip said, adrenaline pumping through his body. “Watch out for that takeoff. Be aggressive and you’ll make it.”
   “Okay,” Marc replied, feeling nervous, “here I go.” Marc began to pull hard into the quickly rising wave. He looked back to find the peak and saw a huge wall of green water was about to crash down, right on top of him.
   “Oh shit!” he said, pulling with all his strength.
   Marc felt the wave grab hold of his board. He jumped up and looked down. It felt like he was in mid air, as the giant wave slapped him forward. Marc immediately stepped on the back of his board, trying to keep its nose up. He made the drop and looked right. The entire length of the white-topped wave was about to close out. Marc immediately turned his board into its face, trying to get back over it, to safety.
   Just as Marc was about to clear the wave, its curling lip caught his board from beneath. He felt himself beginning to get pushed up and back, as the nose of his board began to rise straight up and over him. Marc immediately wrapped both arms around his board, hugging it with all his might. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. Marc readied himself for the pounding he knew he was going to take.
   The wave threw him forward and then crashed directly on top of him. Marc struggled under all the tons of churning white water. He couldn’t get back to the surface. He began to panic.
   Garth, idling in the channel, saw all this. But, he had to wait until it was clear. Then he saw Marc’s board, rise straight up like a tombstone. Garth knew Marc was still under water, at the other end of his bobbing board. What the hell, Garth thought and gunned his jet ski toward the upright surfboard.
   Marc controlled his panic. He felt the tension from his leash yank his leg up. Marc grabbed the leash and pulled himself toward the surface, hand over hand. He finally broke through gulping down air, as Garth skied up, waving to him to get on board.
   Marc dragged himself onto the back of the ski. Looking up, he saw another giant wall getting ready to crash over them. It blocked the sky as it rose steadily higher. Marc grabbed his board, as Garth turned the ski around and gunned the throttle. The jet ski sped forward, as the avalanche of white water chased them from behind, back into the channel. Finally, when they were safe, Garth asked if Marc was alright.
   “I’m fine. Man, did I get worked. What a wave!” Marc yelled, adrenaline oozing from every pore in his body.
   “You ready to try again?”
   “You bet! Get me back out there.”
   Garth transported Marc back out beyond the lineup, to where Kip was waiting.
   “Glad to see you’re still alive.”
   “Ah, man, the wave closed out on me.”
   “My turn,” Kip said, checking to make sure Garth was back on watch.
   Kip paddled back into the lineup and caught the next wave. Again, Marc watching from behind couldn’t tell if Kip had made it, as he disappeared in front of the twelve foot monster. But, when Marc saw Kip hit the lip and turn his board back down the face, he knew he had.
   After Marc saw Kip kick out, it was his turn. He waited, as the first two waves passed then paddled into the third. It felt like he was going a hundred miles an hour, as he dropped in, his board bouncing down the wave face.
   Marc made his bottom turn and looked down the line to see a twelve foot wall of water building ahead of him. He “S” carved the wave. Then he slowed his board and cut high up into its wall. The lip began to curl over, as Marc angled his board back down. A huge watery tunnel began to form. Marc slid right into it, standing up. The tunnel completely surrounded him. Marc dragged his right hand along the face, feeling the upward onslaught of water. Then the tunnel collapsed. Marc emerged still standing then he turned his board and shot up and over its back just as the wave closed out.
   “Way to go, Marc!” Kip yelled.
   Once Marc was lying back on his board, he felt the adrenaline again surge through his body again. It felt great!
   They continued taking turns while Garth waited in the channel. They each wiped out a couple of times, but Garth was right there to scoop them up from all the chaos. When they started to get tired, they decided on one more ride each.
   By this time the current had carried them south, almost even with Bird Island.
   Marc set up for his last ride and caught a rogue fifteen footer. It was huge! He made the drop and cut left. As he screamed along its face, his back mere inches from the monster wall he lost his balance and fell. He tobogganed on his butt down the face, until the incredibly fast moving water carried him back up to the very top of this monster, then violently body-slammed him down. He couldn’t tell which way was up, as tons of chaos tossed him about like a rag doll in a pit bull’s mouth. Finally, he was able to get back to the surface only to find that his new board had snapped in two. He was too far south for Garth to get around the corner of Bird Island. The waves were just too huge and wrapping around the island’s corner. So Marc swam, using his broken board as a kick board, as the waves continued to crash around him.
   It was becoming hard for Marc to swim. Every few yards he struggled, was met with yet another wave, chaos and backwash, as all the water tried to find its way off the beach. Marc realized he was caught in a rip tide, a bad one. He knew he had to swim parallel to the shore or risk being swept out to sea. But, he was so tired. His broken surfboard just wasn’t enough. Marc’s arms felt like lead weights. His legs began to burn. Another wave crashed right on him and pushed him under. He tried to fight to the surface. His energy drained away.
   So this is it Marc thought, as his panic began to fade, only to be replaced by a sense of calm. He knew he was drowning. And he knew Garth couldn’t see him, as the waves obscured his view from the channel. Images of his mother, father and Bob flashed through his fading mind, as his last breath finally escaped his burning lungs.
   Suddenly, he felt something grab him from below. As his last breath bubbled away, Marc opened his eyes and looked down. There, beneath the water, he saw someone about his age pushing him up! Marc’s vision began to fade just short of blacking out when he broke the surface, gagging and coughing, sucking much needed fresh air back into his aching lungs. After a moment, he regained his senses and felt his energy slowly return. He immediately put his face under water and opened his eyes.
   There, Marc saw a young man of about eighteen. He was slowly sinking to the bottom, arms reaching up as if to say, save me. Marc knew he’d just encountered the last ghost child!
   When Marc finally made it to Bird Island, he dragged himself up on the beach and flopped down, panting and feeling the warm sand through his chilled body. After he’d rested for a while, he sat up and looked out to where Kip had caught a huge right. Marc marveled as he watched Kip chew it up. Kip finally dropped back down on his board and sledded into the channel where Garth was waiting to pick him up.
   Marc guessed that Garth would come across the inlet to get him shortly, after he‘d dropped Kip off with Steve.
   After resting some more and thinking about his close shave with death, Marc tore open his Velcroed leash, picked up his broken board and began walking along the edge of the island, towards the inlet.
   As he walked, he couldn’t help admiring the tremendous waves still pounding in. He imagined seeing himself cut and slash the huge walls of water. His earlier brush with death began to fade from his mind, to be replaced by thoughts of surfing and Isabella. Then something caught his eye. It was shiny. But, Marc couldn’t tell what it was from this distance. Marc looked back over his shoulder, at the place he came ashore. With a start, he realized that the spot he almost died was the exact spot where he and Bob had found the shoe buckle and toy cannon. It was the same spot where he saw the last ghost child. He knew what lay before him buried in the sand.
   Marc ran over to the shiny object and pulled it up. It was almost completely encrusted with centuries of sediment. But, one corner was exposed. Examining the object, Marc saw a few worn letters. Latin, he thought? He rubbed the exposed area. A blue sapphire and green emerald caught the sunlight and exploded in brilliance. He’d found the medallion.
   Garth soon made his way across the inlet, to Bird Island, where Marc was waiting for him.
   “You okay?” Garth asked.
   “I’m fine. But, I almost bought the farm out there. That last wave really worked me.” Marc didn’t say anything about the ghost, making sure the medallion was safely stuffed in the pocket of his swim suit. “Let’s get out of here and go home.”
   “You’ve got it, buddy,” Garth replied.
   They jetted back across the inlet and, after Garth beached the jet ski, Marc climbed off. Kip and Steve were looking at the photos Steve had taken. Garth said his goodbyes and went back up the inlet to load up his ski.
   “Marc, look at these! Steve took some excellent pictures of us,” Kip exclaimed.
   “I got some really good ones of you,” Steve added.
   “We’ve got to go!” Marc excitedly stated.
   “What’s the hurry?” Kip asked.
   “This!” Marc replied, digging into his pocket and handing over the partially rock-covered medallion.
   “Holy shit! Where’d you find that?” Steve said, reaching out to hold it.
   “On Bird Island. I need to get this to Bob. I think it came from the San Miguel.”
   “Let’s go,” Kip said.
   They loaded up Kip’s truck and drove back north, pulling over once to let two police cars and an ambulance race by, their red lights flashing and sirens wailing.
   They pulled into the back parking lot of Amelia Research and ran inside.
   Bob was there talking to Wayne, planning the next trip south aboard the Polly L.
   “Bob!” Marc yelled, as he entered the shop. “I found it!”
   “The medallion?”
   “I think so,” as Marc handed over the artifact.
   “It’s heavy. Where’d you find it?”
   “On Bird Island. It was lying in the sand. And, that’s not all.”
   “What do you mean?”
   “We were surfing the mouth of the inlet. My board broke and I couldn’t get back to shore. I almost died!”
   “Are you alright?”
   “Yeah,” Marc hesitated. “I swear as God is my witness, Isabella’s oldest son saved me!”
   “What?” Bob said, as Steve and Kip stood there not believing what they were hearing.
   “It’s true! What can I say? There’s the medallion.”
   “What’s going on?” Kip asked.
   Bob told them both about the legend of Isabella Rojas. “See? Here’s a shoe buckle and toy cannon with one of her son’s initials engraved on it.” Then he turned toward Marc, “Where’d you say you saw that ghost?”
   “Over the same spot we found those,” Marc answered, pointing to the buckle and cannon.
   “That must be the resting place for Isabella and her children,” Wayne speculated.
   “Before we jump to conclusions, let’s get this into the acid wash and make sure it’s the medallion. We should know by tomorrow,” Bob recommended.
   “Okay. I’ll definitely be back here in the morning,” Marc replied.
   After saying their goodbyes, Kip drove Marc home. On the way, Kip was full of questions. Marc tried to answer as best he could. His excitement caused him to jump around as he speculated about the medallion and what it could mean.
   After Marc was dropped off, he went inside where he found a note stuck to the refrigerator. It was from his mother. She’d gone shopping with Dick. Marc read the end of the note out loud, “I love driving your Jeep and I love you.”