LITMIR.BIZ

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Swahili and any other language that popped into his head. He continued until an angry Grimley hung up the phone.

      Guides: Spirit and Mortal. Spirit Guides take lost souls to a permanent portal to contact the Spirit Keeper. Mortal Guides assist Keepers with their quest to resolving problems and only Chosen-ones Guides can see portals and spirits.

      Individuals who have the gift but not Chosen-ones are also known as Guides. These people in life are mediums, clairvoyants, spiritualists, etc. When they die and become Spirit Guides and stay at the first level to help lost souls. These Spirit Guides are many and take lost souls to the right portals Spirit Guide or Keeper. They also use temporary portals to contact mortal Guides, although this contact is brief and instigated by the living Guide, via séances or other means to contact the spiritual realm. These Spirit Guides have restrictions and the mortal Guides cannot see spirits or portals, although they can see mortal’s auras, hear spirits, and smell their odours. Their gift was not passed down the bloodline and they have no joining, so whom they married was their choice.

      All Spirit Keepers and Guides give off a familiar smell associated with them in their lifetime that only people with the gift could smell. The Keeper’s odours are stronger. Granny Pearl’s odour was of Brussels sprouts, while Jack’s odour smelled of Brylcreem, which made Church worried about using Brut body splash.

      Church was nineteen when Granny Pearl introduced him to his first assignment and as Church fixed a leaking tap in the toilet, he smelled Brussels sprouts.

      ‘Granny Pearl’s early.’ he thought as he made his way to the portal room.

      Granny Pearl was in the Portal along with a white spirit. She introduced Church to Albert Wright, a recently deceased 79-year-old man who was now a lost soul with a problem. Church felt sadness coming from Albert’s soul as he related his story, while Church wrote the details on a large notepad, which he referred to as ‘Spirit notes.’

      PATH GTR 001: Fishermans Friend

      Albert’s tale began 30 years ago, during the late 1950s. Albert was the skipper of the trawler ‘Ross Rodney’ sailing from the port of Grimsby.

      With calms seas, they fished for cod on the Anthony Bank fishing grounds in the North Sea. Coming to the end of a trip and with the fish hold almost full, dawn broke as they hauled in the last catch of the season. The bulging net covered the deck and the crew removed the cod-end spilling fish wriggling onto the slippery deck. The five-man deck crew went to work, sorting the catch. The crew saw several large boxes amongst the writhing fish and removed eight boxes from the nets. They carried them below deck until they had finished sorting, gutting, and icing their catch. While steaming home, the crew gathered in the galley to investigate their find. They gasped in amazement when they opened the first wooden box and found it contained gold bars and the seven other boxes contained the same, with a small-engraved brass plaque fixed onto each box.

      SS BATAVIER V

      Dutch/Batavier line. Amsterdam:

      Built: Gourley Brothers & Co.

      Commissioned: 1903.

      Delighted, but shocked by this treasure, Albert and his crew knew they must keep their discovery quiet, realising that the English government would take the gold off them as the country still suffered from post-war expenses, so they buried the loot in Albert’s garden amongst his vegetable patch.

      Several days into their next trip, on a bitterly cold January morning, they set the trawl nets into a calm sea. Albert started the slow trawl and then he and the crew felt a thud on the port side. The Bosun went across the slippery deck to investigate as an explosion ripped through the side of the vessel, violently rocking the boat, and throwing the Bosun into the icy cold ocean. They had struck an unexploded mine, one of the many from World War 2, still floating around the North Sea. The small trawler listed and started sinking, with the crew tossed into the bitter, cold, merciless North Sea. Immersed in the frigid water, Albert panicked and splashed around, his drenched woollen deck clothes now became like a lead suit dragging him under to a watery grave. Accepting his fate, he stopped splashing and prayed as he sank beneath the waves. His hand then touched something and he grabbed onto a piece of fishing net attached to the Rodney and hauled himself back to the surface. The little trawler turned turtle, leaving the keel exposed above the waterline. Albert pulled himself onto the icy cold metal of the keel. With the last of his strength, he entwined himself in the netting. He resembled Captain Ahab snared to Moby Dick.

      Luck or fate was on Albert’s side, as a trawler fishing nearby saw the Rodney’s plight and steamed towards the stricken vessel. The trawler, aptly named the Samaritan, pulled alongside the upturned hull, the crew saw Albert lying exhausted, and as hypothermia took hold, he felt at peace. He closed his eyes and said a prayer before he heard someone yelling and the engines of another trawler.

      “Grab the float,” yelled a crewman as Albert heard the dull thud of a cork float hit the overturned hull. He glanced over and saw the rope of the rings of cork slipping off. He grabbed the rope and, untangling himself from the Rodney’s net, clung on as the Samaritans crew hauled him through the frigid water and onto their deck.

      The Samaritan’s fearless crew, after pulling Albert from the clutches of an icy, watery grave, searched the surrounding area but unable to find the rest of Rodney’s crew.

      Mariners are superstitious and Albert, now fearing the Bataviers treasure cursed, never touched the gold for decades.

      Albert lived in his home in Grimsby throughout his life. He and his wife had a son, Keith, who had a son, named John.

      Losing the Rodney and its crew devastated Albert, although he continued to skipper trawlers until he hung up his oilskins and retired from fishing at 65 years old. He’d seen the decline of the industry he loved over the next ten years and with his wife dying a few years earlier, he knew his end drew near. He wanted to leave his family something of value. One night, he was watching a T.V. program on the BBC about a treasure unearthed in England. The program mentioned that the finders kept all the proceeds. Albert knew then what he must do. Even though he feared the gold cursed, he felt that maybe the curse would lift if he passed it on to help others. At least proceeds from the sale would come in handy for his grandson John and his family, with him being out of work and a new baby on the way.

      Albert wrote to the admiralty and various government departments. The government responded by writing him a letter, informing him about the vessel: Steam Ship SS.Batavia V, which sank in May 1916, along with its cargo of gold, rice, etc. The letter explained about the vessel and its contents insured by a Swiss company, so with no one salvaging the wreck or its contents, the gold legally belonged to him.

      On receiving the letter, Albert dug the boxes the following day. Unfortunately, the fickle finger of fate stepped in, and Albert suffered a fatal heart attack. He died before his planned excavation.

      “I would like you to help my grandson John find the gold,” said Albert and gave Church instructions and relevant information he thought useful.

      “Good luck Church,” said Granny Pearl, as her and Albert’s spirits faded, and the portal closed. Church read his notes and called his parents.

      The following day, Church borrowed his mother’s battered, second-hand Ford Escort car and drove the four hours to the northeast coast. He arrived at Albert’s old house in Grimsby late afternoon.

      John, a fisherman like his father and grandfather but with the fishing industry in severe decline, with most of the trawler fleet decommissioned, John was unemployed. Albert had bequeathed his house, including the contents to John, and he and his pregnant wife had moved in several days ago.

      Church sat outside in the car, trying to figure out his best approach. Albert had told Church that as a child, John would often visit, but he had seen little of him over the past few years. Using this information, Church figured out a plan. John and his wife Sandra were in the kitchen unpacking boxes when Church knocked on the door. John answered.

      “Hello John. My name is Church and I was a friend of your Grandad’s,”

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