A Final Distress Call

My name is Professor Heltor Patrius, submarine biologist and the foremost authority on deep-sea excavation. Six months ago, I developed a blueprint for what could potentially be the next generation of submarines. Capable of plunging to depths of approximately twenty-one hundred feet in six seconds, without disturbing the equilibrium of anybody aboard, this was to be the future of underwater transportation. I called her Trident.

She uses high velocity turbine fans attached to vacuum vented intake valves to maneuver in either direction while keeping any water out. Powered by the friction produced during potential and kinetic energy, panels channel the energy throughout the watercraft. She powers herself by moving. A lithium based polar conductor attracts and absorbs excess energy, and redirects it to the turbine fans for departure after each mission. I didn’t account for the calamity that I have fallen victim to. Foolishly, I elected to test the prototype alone, and discretely. I might even add greedily, as I ventured under the pacific in hopes of finding a treasure not many are aware exists.

Long ago, sometime when pirates sailed the seas, there was a colony, on an island long washed away by the violent waves no doubt. On that island, lived a Greek family in the water-mechanics business. They owned a company called Hydronics. Hundreds of patents and dozens of inventions earned this family a very husky fallback option. They invented the early concept for what we know today as the oxygen tank and snorkel mask. Founded in the middle of the ocean, there were no allies to share these profits with, so they piled up. Pirate conquerors began to hear tales of the wealth floating in the middle of the ocean. Soon, they made their way toward this island. The story goes that this family somehow became aware of the approaching threat and began to plan accordingly. Quickly, arrangements were made for any and all blueprints owned by this family to be stored away and passed down the bloodline. These fortunes were welded into a steel reinforced canister and submerged to the bottom of the ocean. This was my father’s great grandfather’s family. If I remember correctly, the pirates did all they could to try and retrieve to location of this treasure, and my ancestors died protecting it.

I began planning my descent after the legacy of Hydronics was passed down to me, five generations later. Harnessing energy produced from this ship’s freefalling state seemed efficient enough. Two months ago, I took my boat and headed for the ocean. With Trident anchored to the ship’s base, she was easily accessible during the storm. Hurricane Sandy hit and destroyed my boat, along with all of my research. The cruelties of the ocean are not to be trifled with. Witnessing the storm drawing closer, I quickly boarded Trident and hit her free-fall release valve. With the lithium base fully operable, she was designed to filter energy into the thrusters during arrival, so that departure would be possible. I never calculated the fall distance. It seems she plunged only thirteen hundred before we hit the bottom, or so we thought. Because Trident didn’t fall the entire twenty-one hundred feet, she did not store enough energy to be able to return to the surface. And here I’ve sat for two month, hoping for salvation.


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If anybody is out there, please heed my warning. Do not attempt to find this treasure. It was plummeted beneath the sea for a reason. Many people have died trying to locate this legendary fortune, and not one soul knows its contents. Greed has confined me to the limits of this watercraft. This has been a valuable lesson, far richer than any treasure is worth. To those attempting to acquire this wealth’s location, know that you will suffer a similar fate, but only if you work alone. I send this message in hopes that someone will find me down here and bring me home. Together, we can all split this wealth and thrive, just as the island of my ancestors has. This was a journey to be ventured and shared, not a selfish trip to be embarked on alone. Please put greed aside. If anyone is out there, please, help me.


About David Jiminez

David is a 21 year old creative writing major from The Bronx, New York. Writing has been his passion ever since he could hold a pencil correctly. Capturing and maintaining the reader’s attention is something he loves challenging himself with. There are many techniques and words that attract the interest of the human mind on an entertainment level. He is looking to make a living out of exploring them. His son is nearly 2 and he means the world to him. He wants to be able to give him everything he wants and needs, which is why he is elated to be attending Full Sail University. His goal throughout his education is to acquire many different techniques and writing styles, as well as sharpen his current abilities. Growing up, he was a comic geek with hopes of working in the film industry on projects related to the scripts of well known comic heroes. He has big dreams and huge ideas and knows one day, he will paint the world with his work.

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