“A good question. The key is the red banner.” Dimitov pointed to the painting. “Note the mainmast.”
Giordino nodded. “It has a small red pennant with some sort of swirling logo.”
“That’s called a tughra. It’s a calligraphic monogram of the Sultan, representing his reign. Only the Sultan’s personal ships would fly such a banner. That’s why it was noteworthy in the logbook. They specifically mentioned the tughra. The mast seen in the water most certainly came from the Fethiye.”
“Okay, I’ll bite,” Giordino said. “So where do we start searching?”
“Now you are talking.” Dimitov clapped his hands. “I suggest we begin in the northwest corner of the grid, which is only a few miles up the coast.”
Pitt looked at the eager archeologist. “It appears we have a workable search plan. Are you prepared to stay with us for the full survey?”
Dimitov opened his suitcase and pointed to a stack of paperback novels. “I am aware of the tedium associated with an underwater search,” he said with a grin.
The Macedonia slipped her dock lines within the hour and sailed up the Bulgarian coast, arriving at Dimitov’s search grid after dusk. The ship eased to a halt as Giordino launched an autonomous underwater vehicle over the side. The AUV contained a battery of electronic sensors packed into a torpedo-shaped housing that could skim above the seabed while running a preprogrammed route. Pitt supplemented the AUV survey by releasing a towed array sonar behind the Macedonia. Both underwater units contained a multibeam sonar system that could provide imagery of a shipwreck, or any other object of size, that protruded from the seafloor.
Dimitov joined Pitt and Giordino on the ship’s bridge to monitor the real-time results from the towed sonar. After a few hours of watching a drab, undulating sea bottom pass by on a large screen, he stood and retrieved one of his paperbacks. “Good night, gentlemen.”
Giordino raised an eyebrow. “Retiring from the fight already?”
“Temporarily, my friend, just temporarily. The Fethiye has been resting for over two centuries. I’m sure she will still be there for the hunting tomorrow.” The archeologist gave a formal bow, then stepped out the bridge door and into the night.
13
Dimitov’s words proved true, but just barely. Giordino was manning the Macedonia’s towed array sonar system at five in the morning when a scraggly, oblong shape scrolled across the monitor. He saved an image of the object and continued the survey until Pitt and Dimitov stepped onto the bridge two hours later.
“Picked up an interesting target on the last survey lane,” he said as Pitt handed him a cup of hot coffee.
“Can you show it to us?” Dimitov crowded close to the monitor.
Giordino retrieved the image and magnified it, revealing details of a largely intact shipwreck.
Dimitov’s eyes grew wide, then he shook his head. “It appears to be a sailing ship, but it must be more modern. You can see a capstan, the rudder, even a mast lying across the deck. It is in too good a condition to have sunk two hundred and fifty years ago. Still, an intriguing wreck.”
“What’s the depth of the target?” Pitt asked.
“Just under seventy meters.”
“That’s in the ballpark for the anoxic zone,” Pitt said. “The lower depths of the Black Sea are deprived of oxygen and therefore lack destructive marine organisms. There’ve been a handful of ancient shipwrecks discovered at that depth in an excellent state of preservation. If this wreck is lying in a low-oxygen state, it could in fact be a nicely preserved Fethiye.”
“The dimensions look close to the known specs of the Fethiye,” Giordino said. “It certainly gives the appearance of a three-masted frigate.”
“Yes, I can see it,” Dimitov said with growing excitement. “It would be too good to be true. Can we investigate further?”
“It certainly warrants some attention,” Pitt said. “What are our options, Al?”
“The submersible is dry-docked until we receive some parts from the States. That leaves dropping an ROV over the side or putting down some divers on mixed gas.”
“I vote for the latter.” Pitt had a gleam in his eye. “You up for joining the party?”
Giordino grinned. “Like a New Year’s Eve reveler.”
Dimitov looked puzzled. “You mean, you two are going to dive the wreck?”
“Why leave the fun and glory to someone else?” Pitt said.
The Macedonia returned to the target site for a few additional passes with the sonar to better mark its position. The crew then retrieved the towed system and dropped a buoy alongside. The ship moved off and took up a stationary safety position a few hundred meters away to await the return of the AUV.
Wearing cold-water dry suits, Pitt and Giordino climbed