 Long entry, the Ketch Scarlet Queen, Philip Carney, master, positioned 2 degrees 40 minutes north, 125 degrees 37 minutes east, wind brisk, sky fair, remarks, departed Sangui Islands after fulfillment of promise, reason for promise, Kang's treasure in the ghost of Tangulan. It was three days out of Basilan following the final sailing orders from my employer, Kujikang, that we raised the smoking island of Tangulan. It's a volcanic island, eight miles square and uninhabited, rimmed by coral reef, its active crater grumbling intermittently and spewing out thick gaseous smoke that hangs continually over the vicinity in a thick cloud. Reminded me of Iwo Jima, the most unpleasant island in my world, with its jumbled heaps of black sand and a complete lack of vegetation. But it was this island that had been drawing us like a magnet over thousands of miles of ocean. It was here that the Scarlet Queen would perform the duty she was originally built to perform. It was here that I'd live up to the agreement I'd signed with Kang over a year ago. I would at last see the historical $10 million treasure lifted out of the scuttled Chinese junk. I'd see it resting finally in the hold of the Scarlet Queen. I went around the northern tip of the island and saw the last of the sun as it disappeared behind the pall of smoke. The constant evening gloom that had caused added to the feeling of loneliness. I was alright with me because loneliness was just what we needed at this point. The feeling was fine, but it didn't last long enough. My crewman Nielsen, who was on lookout, broke the spell just as we approached the only reef passage marked on our chart. Hey, the beard! What do you got, Nielsen? If I thought we were going to be alone on this blasted island... How did I take the wheel and hold away from the pass? I'm going forward to have a look. The hull was a lugger, resting at an easy angle on the coral a little better than halfway through the pass. Her masts broken, her rigging tangled. There was no sign of life on her. With binoculars, I could see a rude camp on the beach beyond. There was no sign of life there either. The figures of four men I saw were sprawled on the sand. And if they were alive, I was sure they'd be on their feet watching us as we came in. And so mutual continues the voyage of the Scarlet Queen, written by Gildowd and Bob Tolman, and starring Elliot Lewis. The Scarlet Queen, proudest ship to plow the seas, bound for uncharted adventure, every week a complete entry in the log, and every week a league further in the strange voyage of the Scarlet Queen. Heck, and the silent camp on the beach could have meant anything. Tragedy that was coincidence, or a setup by Kang's arch enemy, Constantino. I left the Queen outside the reef with Gallagher in charge. We put our small boat over the side and Nielsen and I rode in through the pass, over the quiet water of the lagoon. Stepped out onto the white sand. The volcano rumbled now and then. Huge land crabs scuttled away from the bodies as we approached the camp. Told a pretty plain story. Three of the men lay on some black sand that had been scraped into a couch. The fourth lay a few feet away. Beside him was a medical kit. Just beyond his fingertips was a hypodermic serringe and needle. What do you make of it, Captain? Stay back, Nielsen. Whatever they died of wiped out the whole crew, including the doctor. Maybe there's a plague. Looks like it. There was something about this hole and that rubs me the wrong way. I know what you mean. Come on, let's get back to the ship. An hour later, we'd run the passage into the lagoon and crept along the inside edge of the reef for 200 yards to the unmistakable formation of coral that was our last landmark. We dropped a hook. We performed a maneuver that was the culmination of all the other maneuvers on the voyage of the Scarlet Queen. We drifted back, letting out anchor cable, until we reached a spot which, if the chart was correct and no one had beaten us to it, was directly over the hull that guarded Kang's treasure in the likeless, smoke-shadowed water ten fathoms below. But the feeling of elation was completely foreign to the atmosphere of Tangle Land. Gallagher and I stood at the rail, feeling the oppressiveness, the uneasiness. As night settled down over us and the glow from the volcano's crater flickered weirdly on the cloud of smoke above. The atmosphere was bad enough, but Nielsen's hail made it worse. Skipper! Captain Carney! What, Nielsen? There was a light on the island, sir. Where? Here. There it is. Up there. You see it? Yeah. What do you think it is, sir? Ah, that's gone. Nielsen, go kill all our lights. Roll out the crew. Tell them to draw up a double anchor watches tonight. Yes, sir. That's an odd one, Skipper. What do you make of it? I don't know, Red. Could have been molten lava rolling down from the crater. What are you handed me? I never heard of lava blowing uphill like that light. All right, then. You name it. You find four men dead from the plague on an unpopulated island. So? We must be a ghost. I hope it is, Red. But just in case it isn't, go break out enough rifles to arm the crew, will you? Gallagher and I split the night so that one of us was on deck all the time with two armed crewmen. The shoreside light appeared a few more times. But when the light of morning forced through the smoke cloud, the island was silent and foreboding. But that's all. We had breakfast and turned two on the most important day's work of the voyage. Hold on, hold on. The hand here will rig the gear in the main mist to handle both the dive and the blackboard and the cargo gear. Nielsen. Yes, sir. You and Crowder fall two with me. We'll break out the diving gear and give the pump a try. Yes, sir. Platform's ready for you, Skipper. Good. Rig me that watertight flood lamp, Red. There's no sun getting down there. I'll need light. It's as good as rain. I looked at the rail and watched the big lamp sink slowly over the side, throwing a hazy, green-tinted circle of light out into the clear water. Went down three fathoms. Four fathoms. Five fathoms. Six. Went down seven fathoms. Seven and a half, and I stopped it. Hold it. Steady as it is on the light. Steady as it is. The circle of light had settled over the outline of the jump. It was leaning about 30 degrees to port. It's after half and part of the main house crushed into a crevice in the coral. It's movable spars and rigging, swinging uneasily in the current. It's there, Skipper. The whole blasted thing is there. Sure it's there. Get the suit ready. Cola, get the suit on the platform. Crowder, stand by the winch. We're ready to go to work. In 10 minutes, I'd gotten into the suit. The platform had lowered me below the surface. And I was left with no sound but the light bubbling of my escape valve and the faint throb of the air being pumped down to me. It was the first grip in the pit of the stomach that comes with adjusting yourself to a new element. Then the awareness of long shapes that dotted into the light from the darkness and left again. Desired to look behind you when you can't. Then the platform reached the level on the sunken deck. Hold it, Red. I stepped onto the sharp slant of the slippery deck. The passageway into the main house that held the treasure was blocked by a shoulder of coral. I made my way along at starboard side to a group of three portholes that led enough light in to show me the interior. I stood for a good minute. Lost in the sight of what lay just a few feet away from me. Lost in the thought of what had led up to this instant and what the four neatly stowed boxes meant in Kang's life and Gallagher's life and the crew's lives. And in my life, the crackle of the intercom circuit in Red's voice that brought me back to the fact that it had to be gotten out of the cabin now that we've found it. All right, I'm all right. What the hell are you talking about? I'm looking at it, Red. It's here. Let's get it started. Not as easy as that. The passageway is jammed shut. We can get it out in one load, but we'll have to cut in through the side. You better come up there. We'll get the key already. Yeah. And give me plenty of help with my line, Red. This deck doesn't like me. It's spongy with rot. Hello, Red. This is the most cautious few feet I've traveled since the first time I walked at all. So they tell me, mate. So they tell me. With the excitement of being on the verge of recovery, I don't think any of us took time to think of the night before or the ghost of Tangolan, or at least no one mentioned it. And when it floated in on us, it was so silent that none of us knew. I'd gotten out of the diving suit and we were grouped on the landed side with the deck putting lines on the wrecking bars and saws and the rest of the cutting gear. And we didn't hear it until he pushed his head up over the side of the seared and spoke. Who'll be it? Hey, it's got to get them. Hey, put down the gun. I'll call my volcano down in a lot of you. Who are you? Hey, poor Sam Brennan. How'd you get here? I hid behind the coconut log. Drifted down on you with a tide. Who'll be you? Bill Carney, captain of the ship. Was that you on the mountain with the light? Hey, could it come aboard, Captain? I have a hunger for Christian food. I never word for you. Bring him aboard. Keep your eye on him. Two crewmen reached down, took him by each arm and hauled him aboard. What came up over the rail did justice to the head that topped it. His hair was shaggy and shoulder length. His face matted with wild beard. His body was gaunt, covered by a collection of wet rags that was part cloth, part skin, part seaweed. No makeup man in costume or anywhere could have done as well for the Ben Gunn character out of Treasure Island. We took him to the galley and opened a tin of hash for him. His wild, slightly vacant eyes flashed and he fell too with a will with his right hand. Held out his left for me to see the nails were raw, heat blackened. What? What'd be the cause of that? Do you reckon? Oh, wait a minute. Let's start farther back than that. Where'd you come from? Come from? My island. I've been a copper grower there for my volcano overflowed and burned out my groves and everything else. But I've been alone since then. Been being 10 years ago. 10 years alone on that island? Eh, it's company enough there is. The voices at night and work enough for the fish to catch and clear them for my volcano. Yeah, sure. Now, about your hands. What happened to them? Torture. It was hard cruel to pour some burning they were. Who? Eight of them that come not two days back. Eight? Yeah. Them that run the craft on my reef yonder and laid them poor dead corpses out on the sand. How do you like that? You mean those men didn't die here? No, they come as they are. Poor dead corpses. Poor Sam Brennan saw them laid out neat like they are. Then I stepped into the midst of the living my arm raised to friendship and they all fell upon me. Hard cruel. Forced into my fingers heated needles. Even the marks that you see there, see? Pretty rough. Why did they do it, Sam? For my wisdom, no less. When I told them little, only that they saw it sailing in and saw no more. They'll get no talk from poor Sam Brennan with talk what sailing, Sam. The Chinese craft were lying over now. There you are, Redden. How's the team now? Hard to get it, Skipper. Hard to get here before us. How do they get any place? I can tell you, I'll tell you that and more. I've been at the side at night, moving here, moving there. Covered by the growls of my volcano. They learned of my island from a servant and masterlander. Sure, sure. We've been nicely suckered that death camp set up so we wouldn't risk infection to look over the island. They sit there and watch us load the stuff on the queen. Then what, Sam, do you know? Hey, this is what I know. There's a fast power yacht in the lagoon around the island on the far side of the pass. Inside the reef. Hey. That's great. And the wreck ship with the reef passage is prepared with dynamite knowledge so that when you start to leave, a touch of the finger will topple it into the passage and you'll be bottled up here at the mercy of that craft which is armed like a man of war. That I know. That poor Sam Brennan heard himself. Yeah, thanks for the dope, Sam. I take it they have a detonator set up on shore to blow the charge. How many men are with it? Maybe one alone. Rest be on the boat. If I took care of the ones on the boat, could you manage the one ashore? The one? Matched against the knights in my volcano and me. We'll manage him. We will. Good. One more thing, Sam. Will you go to the wreck with me before you go ashore? Aye, aye. I'll go the way you come. Wait a minute, Skipper. That's putting your head right into it, isn't it? Well, what else, Red? That'll be bottled up here like fish in a glass tank. Yeah, we ought to be able to cut the wires to that dynamite before they get the idea that it's any more than a curiosity trip. They must have expected that. I hope you're right, Skipper. I'll have to take over the diving, Red. You take it. Work as fast as you can. Cut a six-foot hole into that cabin and we'll all come out in one load. The gear's all ready. Okay, Skipper. I'll do my best. That'll be good enough, Red. And be careful, huh? Me? You telling me to be careful? Red was in the suit and on his way down by the time Sam Brennan dropped over the side and I got myself ready and headed toward the wreck in a small port. I took with me an explosive detonator, rigged for dry-cell batteries, a couple of small blocks with well-oiled sheaves and enough strong light lines to reach across the hundred yards between shore and the wreck. I boarded it before Sam arrived. Climbed down into the cabin and started tearing a place to pieces. The first ten minutes of searching weren't enjoyable, but they weren't as bad as the next twenty when I dropped into the hold and still hadn't found the charge. By that time I'd been there too long for my visit to look like one of curiosity to anyone. When I did find it seven sticks strong down in the filthy bilge, my heart was pounding and no one could have convinced me that I didn't rip the wires loose. A split second before the man at the detonator had decided to push the plunger home. But when I had them harmless in my hands, even the bilge air smelled as sweet as life itself. What do you plan, Captain? All you have to do is go ashore, Sam, with the end of this line. I've got the detonator set so that when the power yacht hits the line just as she enters the reef passage, this wreck where I'll blow up right in their faces. Do you understand, Sam? It has a good sound. My ship is on one side of the passage. They'll approach from the other. The only thing I want to be sure of is that you'll leave enough room on my side so that the Scarlet Queen can squeeze through. Proper vengeance they get from poor Sam Brennan. That's right. All right, Sam. Keep going. With the end of the line looped around his tattered waist, he slipped silently into the water with only his head showing behind his log. Started shoreward, taught a spot, I pointed out to him. May have been minutes, but it seemed like hours before he got there. I watched him secure the line to a jutting rock and then disappear. I heaved my line as taught as I could, raved it through one of the blocks I'd rigged, made it faster the detonator so that the slightest tug would blow the charge. Then I went back to the Queen. All right, Captain. Well, sure glad to see you, sir. Thanks, Nielsen. Where's Mr. Gallagher? Oh, he's still submerged. What's the trouble? Well, nothing now, sir. He was on his way up. The cargo's aboard, but the chief's line fell, and we had trouble getting him out of the cabin in the junk. He was down too long. We didn't want to risk bins bringing him up faster than we should. We'll have to speed it up a little, Nielsen. Get on the intercom. Tell him I'm back, and he has to get up as fast as he can. Yes, sir. Caller, stand by the windlass. I'll get the motor started and we'll inch up on the anchor. And where's the diving platform? Pull our platoons down, sir. We'll have to have more speed. Tell Gallagher to hang on. We'll have to weigh anchor before we get him aboard. We'll have to forget pressure and everything else and get him aboard. Tell him that. Tell him the powerboat expected is in sight about a thousand yards off our bow. It was natural that it should show. We'd used too much time. Time enough for anyone to realize that something was wrong and decide to find out what. The anchor's in sight, sir. Nielsen. The platform's in sight, sir. So I stood there with my hand on the throttle and not able to open it and watched the Constantino boat push its sleek bow around a point of land. She was moving slowly, still only inquisitive, still unable to see what was going on on our decks. Anchor is up, sir. Secure the anchor. It's clear in the platoons, sir. The platform's clear. I waited another 30 precious seconds till Gallagher had been swung inboard. Then I opened the throttle. Awake churned as we picked up speed, Gallagher Queen built a bow wave that curled and gleamed milkily in the gloom. That bow wave was like a starter's gone to the power craft. She built a bigger one of her own as her throttle was open and she picked up speed that made our pace look like that of a canal scowl. I didn't have time for any kind of caution. When we'd covered half the distance to the pass, I swung toward the island, blind to the reefs or channels or depths, knowing only that I needed that swing to make the narrow lane between the reef and the trip cord that would blow the booby trap and the wreck. By the time I'd made the turn the power boat had closed within less than a hundred yards of us and the men aboard were opened up to stop us with every means they had. Hey, come to the cockpit, Brad. Stand by to take the wheel in case I catch one of these things. Come on, Skipper. Crouched as low as I could and watched a series of bullet holes appear in the deck in front of me. Felt as splinters as another burst caught the mizzenboom above me. Can we do it, Skipper? No in a minute, Brad. We've got 25 yards to go. They've got about 60. You're awful close to the reef, Skipper. Yeah, yeah, yeah. We're two towards the line in the middle of the channel. By the time our bow slid by the raging coral the power boat was no more than 25 yards of stern. The range was point blank now but that wasn't what I was worried about. Straight down into the pass felt the first ocean swell lift our bow. Our stern swung to Port La Carte and I fought it back with hard hound. Then I just hung on and hoped because there was nothing else to do. Don't just stand there with your mouth open. Now to pull their eyes away from the mangled wreck that the sleek power yacht had suddenly turned into. Her superstructure was torn to bits. She was afire and settling by the stern in the reef passage. Then they stumbled to their station. Let's stop and change! Make sail! The mainsail climbed into the smoked old sky. The gyps, then the mizzen and the scarlet queen as though feeling the success herself and the lifting of strain and tension kneeled in thanks to her own gods and leaned before the winds they sent her an answer to her prayer. It's a board skipper, it's a board and we're out of there. It's a board, Rad. Well, you don't sound too happy about it. Happy? Rad, I don't even believe it. Yeah, I kind of know what you mean, skipper. After what's led up to it, it don't seem right just to pick it up like some bales of rubber or some sacks of rice and put it in a hole. Yeah, that's about it. Of course, Sam Brennan can have his island. We're out of there. Yeah, that's a little hard to believe, too, but assuming that we are, where are we back? Back to Hong Kong to sign over the stuff we don't believe to catch. A city, skipper. Yeah, we've earned a celebration and I can't think of a better place than Hong Kong. I don't see any reason for waiting till we get there if you know what I mean. I think I do. You don't know, you're psychic. After you, mate. After you. Log entry. The catch scarlet queen. Miles traveled from San Francisco 21,308. Wind brisk, sky fair. Carrying full sail. Ship secure for night. Signed Phillip Carney. Master. Queen stars Elliott Lewis as Phil Carney with Ed Max as Gallagher. And tonight featured Bill Johnstone as Sam and William Conrad as Nielsen. Music scored and conducted by Richard O'Rott. The Scarlet Queen, a command radio production directed by James Burton, is written by Gildowd and Bob Tallman. And came to you from Hollywood.