There definitely seemed to be an abundance of the usual suspects in this area.. Perhaps more than there should be, or perhaps she was seeing the same shoals over and over again. That was distinctly odd behaviour. The fish didn't seem to be foraging, and indeed the bottom here was apparently undisturbed. Yet whenever they headed for the open sea, something seemed to turn them back in. A large predator perhaps? Juliet reached back and pulled the shark-prod off her belt. It was very similar in function to a cattle prod, delivering a sharp electric shock, conducted perfectly by the salt water, into the fish. Used correctly it would have the same effect on the fish as a cattle prod on a cow, discouraging it from getting too close. Used incorrectly, it could stun the fish causing it to sink and drown. That was not something Juliet would want to do. Even the most brutal predators of the deep had their place, and the only reason to actively seek to kill a shark (other than for food) would be if it was dining on human flesh. (Duuuuh dun, duuuuuh dun, dun dun, dun dun, dun dun, dun dun, dundun-dundun dundun-dundun, du-du-DAAAAAAH!) The infamous music always went through her head whenever she thought about sharks. The fact that they rarely attacked humans was ignored by the sensationalist media. The reason for shark attacks on humans was almost always the result of blood in the water (from open wounds or female time of the month) and the fact that humans splashing inelegantly at the surface of the sea sounded to a shark exactly like a fish in distress...<br/><br/>Whatever predator was out there, though, Juliet was reasonably confident that her presence would scare it away. She swam out beyond the sand bar, the school of Golden Trevally following behind her, as they often did, ironically, with sharks and whales. The sea bed dropped away into darkness and as ever, Juliet experienced a touch of vertigo. This was still relatively shallow, only 20m or so, and as her eyes adjusted so the ocean bed came back into view. This was nothing like diving in the open ocean, the sea bed a dizzying 2km beneath you, nothing but blackness down there, and nothing but a horrible death if one ventured too deep without the proper equipment.<br/><br/>Juliet looked around and shrugged. There was nothing. No shark, no other predator. But something had been keeping the shoal penned in the cove, because they quickly vanished into the blue ocean. Most odd. But still, not the oddest thing to be found or observed under the ocean, in this strange, alien, hostile environment. In fact, Juliet knew it was earth's deep oceans and the life that thrived at those impossible depths that was the inspiration behind the search for extra-terrestrial life on Jupiter's moon Europa. She dismissed the thought of ever getting to dive<i>that</i>ocean, as amazing as it would be. Clearly her presence had scared off the predator as she predicted.<br/><br/>She swam down. 20 metres was easily within the range of her standard air mix bottles, her lungs drawing a little harder on the regulator as the pressure increased around her. The bottom was mostly clear of kelp, and she spotted a round stingray unbury itself from the sand and swim away as she approached. The ocean was it's usual crowded yet vastly empty self. She checked her compass on her watch. Far too easy to get turned around down here, loose your sense of direction, and end up feeding the crabs. That way. She swam back slowly, rising up the undersea sand-dune that guarded the cove, partly to allow herself to decompress properly but mostly to explore the ocean side of this sand bar. She reached the top with ten minutes air left and allowed the breaking waves to surf her over into the cove, braking the surface and swimming with a leisurely breast stroke back towards the boat, her regulator trailing.<br/><br/>But something caught her eye. She paused and repositioned her mask, looked again. Yes, there was definitely something glinting down there. Slipping the mouthpiece back in, Juliet dived down the four metres to the seabed. Following the glint of reflected sunlight. There, buried in the sand, where nothing of this sort should be, she saw a fine silver tray. Engraved on it, the words "SS Pacific, 1851".