He had discovered a pearl fishery so fabulous, so unbelievably rich, that his find would make headline news throughout the world.
He knew also that unless he could keep his find secret until his claim on the pearl fishery was established, treasure seekers and money-mad cutthroats would descend on him like hungry sharks.
He felt sure that his actions and explorations had been secretly watched. He knew who the watchers were—unscrupulous men waiting hungrily to move in and jump the claim he had struggled so hard to find.
His first problem was to get off this tiny speck in the bay and back to Martinique. He was no more than five miles off the shore of the main body of the big island. If he had reckoned his position correctly, there was a long spit of land jutting out from Martinique that he could reach by a two-mile swim. He would need to rest. Calm now, he settled into the sand to sleep.
When the man awakened, the light of a brilliant tropical morning proved that he had been correct in determining his position. The sandspit jutted out, welcoming him. Farther beyond he could see the lush, green-covered pitons rising in the center of Martinique. Some of these peaks reached a height of nearly four thousand feet.
The man began his long, slow swim. He had no fear of the sea—though he knew sharks abounded in these waters, and he was unarmed.
But by midmorning he had reached the mainland of Martinique safely. He was pleasantly tired from his long swim, and stretched out on the warm sands to rest and allow his clothing to dry.
In the early afternoon he reached the town of La Trinité, sprawling at the approach of Presqu’île de la Caravelle, the peninsula that formed the Baie du Trésor.
He found a room in a small pension, a rooming house, and spent most of the night writing two letters. One of them was addressed to his son in The Netherlands. The other was to Charles Keene on the island of Curaçao in the Netherlands Antilles.
Along with the letters, he carefully prepared two small boxes.