SILVER BUBBLES by Peter Fergus is published

Dec. 12, 2006 – Mike Morgan’s commercial diving business is going downhill fast; his wife has left him and now all he owns is at risk. It is time to throw caution to the wind and fill a lifetime’s dream, which is to escape to sea and salvage the riches from lost and forgotten shipwrecks. Along with two good friends Billy Wells a tough ex mineworker once prize-fighter and Phil Roper a carefree ex-Royal Navy clearance diver, they purchase a decommissioned trawler and embark on a risk filled underwater adventure uncovering lost and hidden treasures. The strong camaraderie between the team is a force that carries them through tough and perilous encounters. Living life to the full in every way, they are determined to succeed.
Silver Bubbles is a salty and saucy armchair adventure.

About the Author: Peter Fergus is a charter boat operator living and working in Plymouth. He is a professional diver and worked for over twenty-five years in the industry as well as being an active sport diver. He now conducts diving charters and general workboat duties which include film and media work. Peter has written two other diving-related fictional thrillers entitled Revenge and Deep Deceit.

Excerpt from the book: “Phil, who was holding the mooring line, put his thumb up, as did Billy, he was doing the dive. I spun the wheel to the port then starboard, positioning Sea Gem alongside the marker like a parked car. The loud horn blew and Billy jumped, disappearing into the deep indigo blue.
Hand over hand he pulled deeper and deeper, the pressure started squeezing his mask. A little blow through his nose equalised the pressure removing the discomfort. His ears were next. Holding his nose, he blew. There was a crackling sound then everything became louder. Noisy bubbles ran passed his ears and a little water seeped into his mask impairing his vision. He held his head back and pressed the top of his mask, while blowing through his nose to force the water out at the bottom. The salt water in his eyes was a regular discomfort and would be forgotten.
A piece of steel about eight inches in diameter came into view, pointing up like small flagpole. Old netting, instead of a flag, waved gently in the slight undercurrent. As he descended, two large round shapes appeared through the misty water. The shot line had passed between the boilers.”
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Author: Peter Fergus

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