“Not even the Iberian pirates sail here,” Manuel said while adjusting the harness straps across his chest. “They say the depths are cursed.”

“They probably spread the rumor to keep their treasure safe!” Carlos replied, getting in one last chuckle before putting in his mouthpiece. The sylph-generated oxygen entered his lungs.

Carlos turned away from Manuel and lumbered across the deck of the skiff towards Luisa and Antonio. The two treasure-hunters were sitting on the edge of the small craft clipping weight belts to their waists.

Carlos moved slowly and hunched over to compensate for the 40 kilograms twin-hose aluminium double-tank aqualung rig strapped to his back. He sat down on the skiff’s edge by his additional gear: two extra lamps for safety, each diver always had two backups, some net sacks to retrieve any valuables discovered, and the guideline, which he’d be responsible for.

Carlos was eager for the weightlessness promised by the sea.