Three-act structure, with cold open and close. Archaeologist Catriona Bell, in early 1939, finds a scroll in an old archive that shows her the way to Atlantis. Nobody found Atlantis before, because Plato made a maths error when translating the original Egyptian source. Distances were all multiplied by ten. So Atlantis was much smaller and much closer than anyone thought - inside the Mediterranean, off the shores of Libya.
SIS sends an ONI Commander - covered as a RN CPO - to “assist” Bell, and they also recruit a Mediterranean smuggler who was in prison, promising him freedom in exchange for his help. With a small boat, they set out to find the lost city. The Thule Society are on her tail, trying to plunder Atlantis' technology. Inspired by the writings of Edgar Cayce, the archaeologists on both sides expect fantastic solar-energy-harvesting crystals and death rays.
But when they finally find it, they discover that Atlantis' cool technology was bronze alloying. They figured out how to make a better crucible that made them the first people able to make bronze.
That's it. Just bronze. Nothing special at all by 1939 standards. But in the 15th century BCE, when all your neighbours are still using lumpy, sad copper, bronze was pretty cool.
The Nazis are intent on tearing up the entire site in order to “find the hidden technology”, but knowing now that there is none, Bell requests support from the British Expeditionary Force. Threatened with overwhelming firepower, the Thule Society pulls back, only to watch in consternation as the Brits set up a security cordon, and then do…nothing.
Bell returns to England, hoping to return with a proper archaeological expedition, but the outbreak of World War II stymies this. But at least she gets the satisfaction of knowing that she found Atlantis…even if it wasn't what anybody expected.
ChatGPT said: That's a rock-solid concept, Tim — very 1930s pulp-adventure in tone but with a grounded, subversive reveal. Here’s how you might structure it into a three-act structure with a cold open and a close, while retaining the pacing and style of the era:
Cold Open: “The Scroll” Setting: A dusty archive in Alexandria, Egypt. Candlelight, the smell of old papyrus, shadows dancing on the walls.
Event: Dr. Catriona Bell discovers an untranslated scroll misfiled among Roman tax records. It mentions a lost land called Atena-set, with coordinates and details that don’t add up—until she realizes the Greeks mistranslated Egyptian distances.
Stinger: A man in the shadows sends a coded telegram—“The Englishwoman has found it. Inform Berlin.”
Act I – The Map, the Muscle, and the Motive Inciting Incident: Bell is called to London under vague pretenses. The SIS (with help from ONI) has caught wind of her find. She's assigned an “assistant” – a grizzled, tight-lipped RN Chief Petty Officer (really a U.S. Navy Intelligence Commander) named Jack Collins.
B-Plot Introduction: In Malta, they spring Leon Andros, a sardonic Greek smuggler, out of prison in exchange for a boat and his Mediterranean knowledge.
Rising Action: The three form an uneasy alliance, chased by storms, Nazis, and the awkward flirtation between Bell and Collins. Flashbacks or anecdotes reveal each character's personal stakes.
End of Act I: Using the adjusted distances, Bell narrows Atlantis to a small seamount off the Libyan coast—just submerged enough to be hidden for millennia.
Act II – Sunken Stones and Shadowy Pursuit Midpoint: They dive and discover ruins—walls of a non-Egyptian style, a bronze-age layout, inscriptions hinting at a proto-European culture. No gold, no power crystals—just remarkably advanced metallurgy for the time.
The Thule Society Arrives: Submarines, uniformed occultists, and hired muscle. The villains are led by a charming sociopath, Baron Ernst von Koenig, who believes in Cayce-style mysticism and expects ancient death rays.
Tension: As Bell’s team documents the site, the Nazis begin excavation with TNT and primitive dredgers. Collins sabotages one operation while Andros distracts the guards.
Revelation: Bell realizes the true “treasure” is the metallurgical innovation—the use of high-tin bronze and a previously unknown crucible design. The Atlanteans weren’t gods. They were just first.
Act III – The Siege of Silence Climax: Bell transmits her findings to British command. The Thule Society, believing there must be more, prepares to raze the site.
Twist: Rather than engage directly, the British Expeditionary Force surrounds the site, cuts off supplies, and waits. Realizing they’ve been had—and that there's nothing magical to be found—Koenig is forced to retreat.
Falling Action: Bell and team are ordered home as war looms. She tries to argue for preservation, but priorities shift toward conflict.
Close: “A Whisper in the Sand” Setting: London, days after Britain declares war on Germany.
Mood: Grim, rain-slick streets, blackout curtains.
Final Scene: Bell, sitting by the fireplace, re-reading her notes. She toasts the fire with tea, not whiskey, saying softly, “You were real, after all. Not gods. Just clever.”
Final Shot: On her desk, the scroll lies open next to a small, unassuming crucible fragment.
Themes: Truth vs. Myth: The reality behind the Atlantis myth is mundane, but no less wondrous for it.
Colonialism and Knowledge: The British and Nazis both come seeking power, but only Bell understands that preservation is power.
Timing is Everything: Even the greatest archaeological find can be lost to the tide of war.
Want a title suggestion or to workshop any of the character arcs?
You said: Going for an Indiana Jones-style romp, but with a female lead. That latter point matters more because in 1939, while women had made many strides towards equality, there was still a long way to go. Which allows me to play off sexist themes as well. “What can she accomplish? She's just a woman.”
ChatGPT said: Perfect. That gives your story a sharper edge and some real resonance—especially by undercutting both pulp tropes and sexist assumptions at every turn. If you want that classic Indiana Jones feel—adventure, banter, dangerous ruins, and Nazis getting what's coming—you’re right on track. Let’s build on that with:
Key Adjustments for Indy-Style Tone + Feminist Undercurrent 1. Catriona Bell as Protagonist: Make her:
Brilliant but not over-glamorized—the kind of dusty-shirt, mud-on-her-boots academic who fights more with words than fists… until she has to.
Socially aware of her gendered treatment but not cynical—she doesn’t posture or preach, she just wins.
Formidable in quiet ways: she picks locks with hairpins, knows six ancient languages, and can stare down a Nazi officer without blinking.
Let her have a signature accessory like Indy’s fedora—maybe a silk neck scarf that belonged to her suffragette aunt, or a field hat her male colleagues keep “borrowing.”
2. Amplify the Sexism Theme Without Getting Heavy-Handed Let the world underestimate her—then show them why they were wrong.
Examples:
The British SIS handler calls her “Miss Bell” even after she corrects him to “Doctor Bell.” She never raises her voice—just proves him wrong with a flawlessly decoded Egyptian inscription.
The ONI commander (Jack Collins) starts skeptical. Maybe he says something like: “Didn’t expect the archaeologist to be wearing a skirt.” She responds dryly: “Good thing I packed trousers.”
Nazi antagonist Koenig could quote some pseudo-Nietzschean nonsense about the “weaker sex”—only to end up getting outmaneuvered by her wit and preparation.
3. Balance the Pulp with Substance Pulp stories thrive on action and adventure, but let your Atlantis reveal be the subversive pivot:
Everyone’s chasing ultimate power—Bell alone values knowledge.
While others are digging for death rays, she’s cataloguing shards of crucibles and sketching trade routes.
The irony: the real power of Atlantis was metallurgy—which the world now takes for granted.
Optional Character Tweaks to Support Your Theme Jack Collins – ONI Commander Posing as RN Chief Petty Officer Starts off brash, dismissive. Used to command. Used to women not being in the room.
Comes to respect her not just for intellect, but calm under fire and moral clarity.
Never “rescues” her—maybe gets rescued by her. Possibly while grumbling, “You’ll never let me live this down, will you?”
Leon Andros – Smuggler Witty and irreverent. Doesn’t care about gender—only competency.
Maybe he figures out she’s the real leader of the trio first.
Grew up around strong women and doesn’t understand the others’ surprise at Bell’s leadership.
Potential Title Ideas You want something punchy, adventurous, evocative. Some ideas:
“The Bell of Atlantis” – plays on her name, the myth, and a metaphorical call to truth.
“Bronze and Blood” – hints at the violent history and the true secret.
“The Lost Crucible” – literal and figurative; Atlantis as a crucible of civilization.
“Catriona Bell and the Sunken Truth” – classic Indy-style structure.
“Atlantis Found” – short, blunt, ironic.
“The Last Secret of Atlantis” – gives it a grand, final feel.
Final Beat of the Ending (Alternate Suggestion) Just a thought: you could end with Catriona teaching again, quietly, back in England. A young woman in the front row asks, “Do you really believe Atlantis existed, Doctor Bell?”
Bell smiles faintly, and says: “I believe the world still has a few secrets left… especially the ones no one’s looking for.”
Would you like help sketching out the key set pieces (like the dive, the first Nazi ambush, or the final standoff), or mock up a one-paragraph back cover blurb?
You said: Go with “Catriona Bell and the Lost Crucible.” Maybe toss in some stuff in the intro about Atlantis supposedly being the crucible of civilization as a misdirect. Also, should the big reveal be a third-act twist, rather than in the middle of second act?
ChatGPT said: “Catriona Bell and the Lost Crucible” is excellent—evocative, punchy, period-authentic, and rich with layered meaning. You're absolutely right: you can use the idea of Atlantis as the “crucible of civilization” as a thematic red herring early on, and then subvert that in the final act with the reveal that it was literally a crucible—a metallurgical innovation that changed everything, but isn’t flashy.
🎬 Revised Structure Notes with Third-Act Reveal You're right to consider moving the reveal to the third act. A mid-second-act reveal drains tension unless there's a bigger twist coming. If you preserve the mystery and keep both sides believing Atlantis hides something earth-shattering, the audience stays hooked. Let’s tighten the pacing and payoff:
🧭 Opening: Misdirection and Mystique In Bell’s lecture or voiceover: “Plato called Atlantis the cradle of civilization. A perfect society lost to time. A myth, they say. But what if the myth is just a poor translation?”
She explains how the Egyptian source was misread: 100 stadia becomes 1,000; what was near becomes distant.
SIS is intrigued—not for academic reasons, but for what Atlantis might contain. Weapons. Technology. Power.
ONI gets involved: if the Nazis believe it, they can’t ignore it.
→ This intro frames Atlantis as a mythic source of power, hinting at Cayce-style supertech, keeping pulp expectations alive.
🏺 Act I: Assembly & Discovery Bell, Collins, and Andros form the uneasy team.
Travel and early puzzles establish her credentials: she’s no fraud, and no fool.
Clues found at a Minoan site or sunken wreckage point them toward the Libyan coast.
⚔️ Act II: The Chase & the Rising Stakes Diving, ruins, sabotage. Constant threat of Thule Society interference.
One of Bell’s discoveries: a strange mold or crucible shard. Doesn’t make sense yet—too early for that metallurgy.
Nazis start blasting into the seabed looking for crystal batteries or beam weapons.
Bell protests: “You’ll destroy everything!”
Baron Koenig sneers: “If it’s worth preserving, it will survive.”
Keep the tech's true nature unclear—hint it's not what people expect, but don’t confirm.
🔥 Act III: The Lost Crucible (Literal and Metaphorical) Bell finds a nearly intact metallurgy workshop. She deciphers markings, finds traces of high-tin alloys, and realizes: They weren’t gods. They were metalworkers. Skilled ones.
The “Atlantean Power” was knowledge. Not magic. Not divine.
Koenig refuses to accept this, escalating to full-scale looting and destruction.
Bell sends coded intel to the British Expeditionary Force.
The BEF arrives and surrounds the site—but rather than engage, they cordon it off and do nothing.
The Thule Society is confused and outraged. Koenig: “Why don’t they move?” Collins: “Because they’ve already won.”
Nazis pull back, realizing there’s no miracle to be found.
Bell: “Knowledge can’t be stolen. Only shared—or destroyed.”
🏛️ Epilogue: The War and the Woman Bell back in England. Her paper on “The Metallurgical Breakthroughs of the Atlantean Bronze Age” is ignored by the press and buried under headlines of war.
She teaches quietly at a university. Women in the back row; male professors dismissive.
A young girl asks: “Did you really find Atlantis?”
Bell, with a ghost of a smile: “I found a crucible.” Pause. “In more ways than one.”
🧱 Thematic Layering: “Crucible” as a Triple Metaphor Literal: An alloying breakthrough—a crucible that lets tin bond better with copper.
Metaphorical: Atlantis as the “crucible of civilization,” where innovation sparked dominance.
Personal: Bell herself passes through fire—skepticism, danger, sexism—and emerges stronger.
🔥 Pulp Set Pieces (Suggestions) A trap-laden tomb off Crete where the scroll was sealed away by Phoenicians.
A submarine battle in the Libyan shallows, where the Thule Society tries to ram their boat.
Underwater ruins, with bioluminescent fish casting eerie light over a mosaic showing the crucible and trade ships.
A Nazi dig site where they're using early sonar tech to blast into sediment layers.
Would you like help drafting a pulp-style back cover blurb or some chapter titles in that 1930s adventure serial style?
You said: If the Thule Society has access to a U-Boat, what's to stop them from just using a deck gun to try to force the British boat to submit? Was there a U-Boat that didn't have a deck gun?
ChatGPT said: Excellent and practical question, especially if you're aiming for 1939 realism. Here's a breakdown of how U-boats worked in that era, and how you might plausibly stage a confrontation without the Thule Society just blowing the heroes out of the water:
⚓ Did U-Boats Have Deck Guns in 1939? Yes—most German U-boats in the early stages of WWII still had deck guns, typically 88mm or 105mm.
Type VII (the most common):
Had an 8.8cm SK C/35 deck gun, with around 200 rounds.
This was useful against unarmed merchant ships or for finishing off wounded targets.
Type IX (longer range, less common):
Often carried a 10.5cm gun with more range and punch.
However, these were removed from later models as the war progressed due to increasing air threats and the need to stay submerged.
🧱 So Why Wouldn't They Use the Gun? Here are some realistic, story-relevant reasons the Thule Society chooses not to or cannot open fire with the deck gun:
✅ 1. Stealth is Paramount They're not supposed to be here.
Firing on a British vessel in international or contested waters before war is declared could provoke a diplomatic or military incident Germany doesn't want yet.
They're on a black-budget occult expedition, not a sanctioned Kriegsmarine patrol.
Collins (to Bell): “They can't risk an open fight. They fire that gun, and Churchill gets his war by Monday.”
✅ 2. Their U-Boat is Modified or Civilian-Covered The Thule Society might be using a modified U-boat or submersible with the deck gun removed to make room for storage (loot) or extra divers.
Possibly a smaller Type II coastal U-boat, which had no deck gun, just torpedo tubes.
“Doesn’t look like a war sub to me. No gun. Probably a prototype, or one of theirs they didn’t want anyone to see.”
✅ 3. The BEF Has Air or Naval Support Once Bell radios for support, the BEF sends an escort destroyer or floatplane patrol, which loiters nearby.
The U-boat would be suicidal to surface and engage.
“They’re boxed in. They fire, they die. So they wait. And watch.”
✅ 4. They Do Fire—But Miss (or Hit Something Else) You could have a single deck gun shot fired in frustration or desperation.
It could miss, cause a landslide, or damage the ruins, raising tension and forcing an early climax.
📘 Summary of Canon Options Reason Result Historical Accuracy U-boat has no deck gun Plausible—Type II or modified sub Accurate U-boat is undercover Firing = diplomatic disaster Very accurate BEF has support nearby U-boat can’t risk exposure Accurate They fire and miss Raises stakes Cinematic, realistic if range is long
👁️🗨️ Bonus Cinematic Detail: When the Thule U-boat surfaces, Bell recognizes something strange about it—runic symbols or Thule insignia welded onto the conning tower. This sets it apart from regular Navy subs. Maybe Andros shudders: “That’s not a normal U-boat. That thing’s cursed.”
Would you like help working that scene into a dramatic standoff—perhaps when the British destroyer shows up just as the Thule sub prepares to fire?
You said: The Type II makes sense for a few reasons. First off, it was obsolete by '39, and the few that actually saw battle during the war were in the Black Sea. (And had to be dismantled and shipped there by truck!) Second, it did have a deck gun, but it was a 20mm AA gun. They could absolutely fire that into a light tramp freighter without blowing it straight to hell, giving a chance for a cat-and-mouse set piece, with Andros losing them in rocks and shoals too shallow for even the Type II to enter. Third, its 24-man crew was for combat operations. Remove the torpedoes - which would be useless to the Thule Society - and you could squeeze in two more men, allowing them to carry a dozen goons, a few scientists, and the people actually vital to manning the ship. (The goons can be recruited from the worst of the Kriegsmarine.)
ChatGPT said: That’s spot-on, Tim—you're tying real-world naval specs into pulp storytelling with just the right level of plausibility. Using a Type II U-boat modified for occult Nazi goonery hits the sweet spot for a 1939-set story like Catriona Bell and the Lost Crucible. Here’s how you can leverage those details to enrich tension, realism, and that serial thriller tone:
⚓ Modified Type II U-Boat: Thule Society’s Ghost Sub ❖ In-World Description (for Dialogue or Narration): Small, squat, scarred from years of wear.
Conning tower marked with esoteric Thule sigils or red lightning-runes.
No torpedoes; instead, the forward compartment has been converted into scientific storage, and midship berths are crammed with bunks and weapons crates.
Armed only with the 20mm flak gun, but dangerous in close—especially to an unarmored tramp freighter.
🔧 Practical Modifications (You Can Mention or Allude To): Original Feature Modified For Thule Use 5 torpedo tubes Removed; storage for excavation tools, occult gear 24 crew capacity Crew reduced to ~15 + 10 “goons” 20mm AA gun Still operational, used as main offense Short range Stationed at a hidden cove/supply point, possibly in Vichy Libya Coastal patrol design Perfect for sneaking through narrow ruins, submerged grottos, or sandbanks
⚔️ Chase Scene: Cat-and-Mouse With a Bite Setting: Shallow rocky coastline off Libya, maybe near Cyrenaica or an ancient submerged breakwater.
The tramp freighter (commandeered by Andros) is lightly armored, slow, but more maneuverable in shallows than a sub.
Thule sub fires warning shots—tracer fire from the 20mm AA gun rips through rigging, smashes barrels, tears canvas.
Bell ducks inside the hold with vital scrolls while Collins tries to man a rusted Lewis gun or signal lamp.
Andros pulls into a maze of coral shoals and ruins, playing a deadly version of “chicken” with depth and tide.
The Type II can’t follow—not without grounding.
Thule goons disembark in small motorboats to pursue on foot or by dive gear.
Optional Climax: A sudden squall rolls in. The sub loses sight of them. In the thunder, Collins mutters: “I’d take a proper destroyer any day. But I’ll admit—Andros has balls.”
🧠 Smart Use of Historical Detail You’re subtly signaling that:
The Thule Society isn’t acting with full Kriegsmarine support—they're using scraps and castoffs.
Their belief in occult power outweighs tactical logic.
Bell’s group, while under-equipped, wins because of cleverness, knowledge, and terrain—not brute force.
This ties perfectly into your larger theme: technology and might are nothing without understanding—just like Atlantis' “power” wasn’t death rays, but bronze alloying.
💡 Scene Flavor Ideas A diver fight near underwater ruins, using ancient spears or artifacts as improvised weapons.
Thule goons chanting some mystical garbage before an assault, showing how warped their priorities are.
Bell finds an ancient engraving identical to the Thule symbol, and realizes: they’ve misunderstood everything. The symbol didn’t mean power—it meant craftsmanship.
Would you like a schematic-style diagram of the Thule-modified Type II, or want help scripting the dialogue for that chase scene?
You said: Wait. There were still feluccas operating in the Med in '39, were there not?
ChatGPT said: Absolutely—feluccas were still common in the Mediterranean in 1939, especially in coastal and island regions where tradition and practicality prevailed. They’re a great fit for your story, and using one opens up all kinds of evocative possibilities.
🛶 Historical Reality Check: Feluccas in 1939 Still in regular use throughout Egypt, Libya, Greece, and Italy—especially for short-haul cargo, fishing, and smuggling.
Powered by lateen sails (triangular, efficient in varying wind).
Shallow draft—ideal for hugging coastlines, entering estuaries, or navigating shoals where larger vessels (like U-boats) can’t follow.
Commonly crewed by two to six men, but larger ones existed.
Frequently used by smugglers, rebels, and black market operators. Perfect for Andros.
So yes: a felucca in 1939 is completely plausible—and thematically on point.
🧭 Narrative Advantages ✅ 1. Cat-and-Mouse Plausibility A Type II U-boat has to stay submerged or at sea, while the felucca can dart through narrow passes and hide in shallows.
U-boat deck crew trying to aim a 20mm cannon at a zig-zagging, low-profile felucca? Difficult at best.
✅ 2. Visual and Tonal Flair Imagine the contrast:
Sleek, gray Nazi U-boat vs. sun-bleached, patched-sail local vessel.
Bell hunched beside a crate of Minoan artifacts while a torn sail flaps above her.
Andros working the tiller one-handed while firing a pistol with the other.
✅ 3. Thematic Reinforcement The felucca, a symbol of older, simpler times, becomes the vessel carrying the truth about an even older world—Atlantis.
Meanwhile, the Nazi U-boat, symbol of modern terror and force, is bogged down by superstition and arrogance.
⚔️ Suggested Set Piece: “The Shoals of Sirena Point” A sequence where Andros uses his intimate knowledge of the coast to guide the felucca through twisting limestone channels, while the Thule U-boat must stay offshore.
The U-boat fires a few times—the tracers spark off rock and sea—but can't follow.
Andros to Collins: “This boat’s got a soul, see? That machine—they chained theirs to a myth.”
📘 What to Name the Felucca? Something period-authentic and subtly symbolic might be nice. Some ideas:
Agapi (“Love” in Greek – simple, ironic if Andros loves the boat more than people)
Thalassa’s Gift (A nod to the sea)
Almah (“Young woman” in Arabic—evocative of Bell, subtly feminist)
Galatea (The mythic sea-nymph—poetic and classical)
Sibyl (Mysterious, prophetic—a ship named for a seer)
Would you like a description of the felucca suitable for a character introduction or reveal scene? Or maybe help drafting the escape sequence itself?
You said: And Egyptian felucca were two-masters with lateen rigging. Hell, we've got photos of them still in operation as working vessels in '55. Nowadays, they're more for leisure than work, but they still sail.
ChatGPT said: Exactly right. You've nailed both the historical accuracy and the visual flavor.
By 1939, Egyptian two-masted feluccas—especially on the Nile delta and coast—were still actively used for cargo, fishing, ferrying, and yes, smuggling. The twin lateen sails gave them excellent maneuverability, especially in the choppy, inconsistent wind conditions of the Mediterranean littoral.
📷 Confirmed by Photographic Evidence Yes, there are documented felucca operations into the 1950s—and even into the early 1960s in rural ports.
They were a common sight in Alexandria, Rosetta, Tobruk, Benghazi, and especially in uncontrolled waters where larger vessels struggled.
🧭 Why the Two-Masted Egyptian Felucca Is Perfect for Your Story ✅ 1. Period Accuracy with Local Color Andros operating an Egyptian felucca gives you authenticity while distinguishing your vessel from the usual cliché tramp steamers.
It instantly conveys: “This crew knows the old routes.”
✅ 2. Tactical Advantages The shallow draft and low silhouette make it hard to target with AA fire.
The lateen rigging allows quick sail adjustment—ideal for tacking into wind and dodging through channels or around reefs.
✅ 3. Cinematic Beauty Picture: canvas snapping in golden light, wind screaming through rigging, a Nazi sub’s silhouette surfacing on the horizon.
Bell clings to the mast as the vessel heels over.
Collins muttering, “This thing wasn’t built for speed—”
Andros, grinning through salt spray: “No, but she was built for this.”
⛵ Suggested Specs for Story Use (for the Agapi, perhaps?) Feature Detail Type Traditional Egyptian coastal felucca Rig Two-masted lateen Length ~15–18 meters (49–59 ft) Draft ~1 meter—ideal for shoals and ruins Cargo Capacity Up to 8 tons—plenty for archaeology gear Speed 6–8 knots in fair wind Crew 3–5 minimum; Andros could handle it with Bell and Collins if needed Armament None officially… but maybe a stowed Lee-Enfield or a sawed-off shotgun in the hold?
🧃 Bonus: Possible Modifications by Andros Secret compartments for contraband or scrolls too valuable to leave lying around.
Reinforced tiller to handle aggressive tacking maneuvers.
A collapsible makeshift motor, barely functional but “gets you home when the wind dies and the company’s worse.”
Would you like help writing the reveal of the felucca—perhaps the moment when Bell first sees it in port, doubting it’ll float—and Andros proves her wrong in classic pulp fashion?
You said: Andros was plucked out of an Egyptian prison. Egypt was still in British hands in '39, correct?
ChatGPT said: Yes—Egypt was still effectively under British control in 1939, though it had a veneer of independence.
🇪🇬 Political Status of Egypt in 1939 Egypt had been nominally independent since 1922, with the Kingdom of Egypt established under King Farouk.
However, the Anglo-Egyptian Treaty of 1936 allowed the United Kingdom to retain military control, particularly over:
The Suez Canal Zone
Foreign policy
Defense coordination
British influence extended through the Royal Navy, the RAF, and significant intelligence and administrative infrastructure—especially around Alexandria and Cairo.
British intelligence (SIS/MI6) operated openly in coordination with the Egyptian government, which was seen as weak and heavily influenced by Britain.
So yes: Andros being in a British-controlled Egyptian prison in 1939 makes perfect historical sense, especially if he’s:
A smuggler caught working outside British maritime regulations,
Or running afoul of port authorities in Alexandria or Damietta,
Or suspected of aiding anti-colonial groups (plausible, even if he’s only in it for profit).
🧷 Story Opportunity: Andros' Arrest and Recruitment Maybe he was caught smuggling Greek antiquities or arms, or falsely accused by rivals.
The prison is technically Egyptian-run, but a British officer or SIS liaison shows up to offer a deal.
You get a classic pulp scene: “Leonidas Andros?” “That depends. Are you here to hang me or pay me?” “Neither. You're going to take a woman archaeologist and a naval officer into the Libyan shallows to look for a fairy tale.” “…Ah. So pay, then.”
🗺️ Suggested Locations for His Imprisonment: Alexandria: Main British port. Ideal for quick transitions.
Cairo: More bureaucratic, could give Bell time to convince SIS to cut him loose.
Port Said: On the Suez. Dingier, ideal for a dirt-floor, bribe-riddled jail.
Mersa Matruh or Marsa Alam: Outposts where he'd be closer to the action.
Would you like help fleshing out Andros' intro scene in the jail, or how the SIS justifies pulling him out?
You said: How about this: Andros' actual ship - a tramp steamer - was impounded by the Egyptian government, and Collins is unable to convince the locals to release it. (His cover makes him a CPO, so not as influential as he'd like.) Luckily, Andros knows how to sail, having started in feluccas, and Collins is able to convince them to release such a vessel to them, as they are far less militarily important. Egypt is sweating the possibility of war, just like everybody else.
ChatGPT said: That's a clever and entirely believable scenario—both historically and narratively. It solves multiple problems at once while reinforcing character dynamics and setting up a visually iconic pulp adventure vessel.
Here’s how this fits into the story organically:
⚓ Situation Breakdown Andros' Background: He originally ran smuggling routes using his own small tramp steamer—something like a rusting coastal freighter.
Caught (or set up) in Egyptian waters, likely smuggling contraband antiquities, arms, or “liberated” British supplies.
His ship was impounded—not scrapped, but locked down in an Alexandrian harbor yard.
Collins' Cover Problem: As a Royal Navy Chief Petty Officer, Collins doesn’t have the diplomatic clout to reverse the seizure. He’s:
Low enough rank not to shake up the Egyptian bureaucracy.
Also trying not to blow his ONI cover.
The Egyptians—technically neutral but practically British-aligned—don’t want to risk angering London or the local nationalists by giving a suspected smuggler his gunmetal tub back.
The Solution: Collins pulls strings to secure a “low-priority” vessel—a felucca—under the radar.
The Egyptian port officials are more than happy to offload one of the idle local boats, especially with war rumblings on the horizon and no desire to attract Axis attention by aiding a military-looking operation.
“A felucca?” Bell asks. “You want to take me to Atlantis in a boat last seen on a Roman coin?” Collins: “You want the steamer? Get promoted.” Andros (grinning): “I’ll have her dancing on the waves before tea.”
🎬 Scene Idea: Port Tension & Felucca Reveal Location: Alexandria port yard Mood: Dust, salt, and diesel smoke. The massive tramp steamer looms in dry dock—padlocked, rusting, two bored Egyptian soldiers smoking nearby.
Scene:
Bell sees the steamer and assumes that’s their transport.
Collins tries to talk to the port master, comes back frustrated.
Andros shrugs: “They won’t let you near her. War's brewing. They’re hoarding hulls.”
Bell: “So what’s the plan?”
Cut to the next scene: a two-masted felucca bobbing at dock, sails rolled and faded, its hull sun-scorched and patched with tin.
Andros: “She’s no lady, but she’ll do.” Bell: “That boat’s older than your jokes.” Collins (smiling): “And twice as seaworthy.”
🧠 Thematic & Character Payoff Andros proves his value—not just muscle or snark, but a true sailor who can coax a felucca through waters a U-boat can’t touch.
Bell gets a crash course in practical sailing and comes to appreciate pre-industrial seafaring as much as ancient metallurgy.
Collins' frustrations grow—he's used to control, and this ragtag method eats at him until he learns to adapt.
🗺️ Bonus Historical Texture Egypt's port authorities in 1939 often favored neutrality in public, while working just enough with the British to avoid reprisals.
The idea of confiscating militarily useful ships while allowing small civilian vessels to operate fits real pre-war tensions.
Feluccas were often rented out for small sums by the Egyptian coast guard or port authorities—especially to trusted intermediaries (Collins could pose as a logistics advisor).
Want help scripting that port scene out with dialogue and character beats? Or a mock-up of the felucca’s interior setup once they’re underway?
You said: I think that Bell would have reasonable respect for traditional sailing. No experience, but at least respect. However, the lack of speed might concern her; her knowledge of traditional sailing matches her period of study: antiquity. She's thinking in terms of galley speed, but a felucca could leave one of those dinosaurs in its wake.
ChatGPT said: Exactly—Bell would absolutely know the limitations of ancient ships, and be pleasantly surprised (if skeptical at first) when the felucca outpaces her expectations. Her concern isn’t elitism—it’s urgency. She’s racing the Thule Society, not sightseeing.
Here’s how that might play out in a character-revealing scene:
⚓ Scene: Bell First Sees the Felucca Dockside, late afternoon. The wind carries the scent of brine and spice. A pair of cats nap in the shade of netting. Andros gestures proudly at a sun-bleached felucca with patched sails and a hull that’s seen better centuries.
Andros: “Behold: The Moonfish. She’ll outrun anything this side of Gibraltar.”
Bell: (arms folded) “You’re joking.”
Collins: (deadpan) “He is. Her name’s The Dustbucket. But she is fast.”
Bell: (circling the hull) “She’s… older than my thesis. Andros, I studied Greek biremes. That thing won’t even—”
Andros: (cutting in, gently smug) “—won’t even creak at six knots in a headwind. She can turn on a coin, sail into the wind, and thread a reef in pitch black.”
Bell: (reluctant) “I admit… she’s more elegant than I expected.”
Andros: “She’s not elegant. She’s mean. She’s the kind of boat that bites you if you insult her.”
Bell: (glancing at Collins) “How long from here to the island?”
Collins: “If you had your steamer? Two days. On this? Three. Maybe less if Andros pushes her.”
Bell: (nods) “Alright. Let’s get moving. I’d rather the Nazis not get there first just because we were admiring the scenery.”
🔍 Character Layering Here: Bell’s concern is mission-driven, not snobbery.
She respects traditional craftsmanship, but her knowledge is focused on antiquity—galleys, square rigs, oared triremes.
The felucca subverts her expectations: it’s a true sailing vessel, fast and agile, not some ponderous hulk from the Odyssey.
Andros earns respect here not by bravado, but through calm confidence in his element.
Collins acts as foil, deadpan and quietly wrangling bureaucracy to make it all happen.
Would you like a schematic of the felucca's internal layout for planning set pieces (smuggling compartment, sail stowage, deck plan, etc.)? Or a brief “ship character profile” for The Dustbucket or Moonfish?
You said: Looked at some pictures, and it looks like felucca of the era still used a straight tiller, not a wheel.
ChatGPT said: Correct. Feluccas—especially those operating in the Mediterranean and Nile as late as the 1930s—typically used a long, straight tiller directly attached to the rudder post rather than a wheel-and-cable system. This was true even for larger two-masted examples. It's a simple, reliable mechanism well-suited to shallow waters, tight maneuvering, and the limited crew such vessels usually had.
Here's what that means for your story: ✅ Authenticity Details: The helmsman would stand or squat near the stern, hand on the tiller, often needing significant upper-body strength to handle it in high winds.
The tiller sweeps across the deck, which could make movement on the rear deck tricky during a chase or boarding scene—perfect for dramatic tension.
You can highlight the physicality of handling the felucca. Andros may show real seamanship here, muscling the vessel through maneuvers with instinctive finesse.
Bell’s academic background might cause her to misjudge how physically demanding modern traditional sailing can be.
⚓ Scene Potential: Bell: (watching Andros fight the tiller in heavy wind) “I thought steering was just… turning the rudder.” Andros: (gritting his teeth) “With a wheel, maybe. This? This is steering with your spine.” Bell: “I’ll just hold this rope then.” Andros: “That’s the sheet. Don’t let go unless you want to kiss the sea.”
This also subtly reinforces why this ship works for them: it’s unassuming, agile, and utterly not what the Thule Society is expecting—especially if they’re clumsily navigating in a stubby Type II that can’t follow into the shallows.
Would you like a rough cutaway layout of the felucca for scene blocking or escape sequences?
You said: I'll rough that out. Most felucca appear to be single-deck vessels, but I've found one photo of a two-deck, dual-mast variant. Though the top deck has little more than a rail and a canopy over the tiller.
ChatGPT said: That's spot-on. Most feluccas—especially Nile types—were single-deck, but larger Mediterranean variants, particularly around Alexandria or the Levant, sometimes had a partial second deck, usually open and spartan, as you've seen: a raised helm area with a canvas awning or slatted shade, railings, and space for passengers or cargo observation. These were often used for short cargo hauls or as coastal ferries.
For your setting: A two-deck felucca in 1939 is plausible as a heavily-used coastal trader or smuggler's vessel, perhaps modified over time. It might have:
Main deck: cargo, storage, possibly small crew quarters forward.
Upper deck: tiller, lookout space, maybe even a hidden weapon mount if it was ever pressed into “other uses.”
If Andros is a former smuggler or blockade-runner (or just a savvy sailor), he could plausibly have modified the vessel with:
Hidden compartments
Quick-douse sails (to de-rig and blend into the coast)
A jury-rigged auxiliary engine, though Bell might complain it’s “barely more than a lawnmower.”
This adds story flexibility without stretching plausibility. If you’re using this for an escape scene or chase sequence, the raised aft helm makes a perfect last-stand or sniper position, while the open foredeck allows for cargo dumping, dramatic leaps to docks, or an anti-personnel “flour barrel to the face” gag.
Let me know if you want a deck plan sketch idea or layout labels.
You said: Again, it's not his boat. The previous owner I picture as a more honest merchant. That being said, even the most honest merchant is going to have a few compartments to hide guns, when one sails in the southern Med.
ChatGPT said: That makes perfect sense—and adds an excellent layer of nuance to Andros’s character and the story’s texture.
How to Present the Felucca and Its History Owned by a straightforward merchant who used it for coastal trade—olives, grain, textiles—honest work, but like any working vessel, equipped for the realities of the southern Mediterranean.
Hidden compartments would be standard practice, not necessarily for smuggling, but for self-defense against pirates, smugglers, or wartime raiders.
This means a few clever stashes for small arms, pistols, maybe a musket or two, and ammunition boxes—likely in false-bottomed cargo crates or under floorboards.
These aren't secret lairs for criminals but practical measures that Andros knows well and can exploit.
When Andros takes over, he might retrofit or expand some compartments, but the base layout belongs to a man who just wanted to get honest cargo to market.
Narrative Opportunities Bell could remark on the old-world practicality of these compartments, amazed at how everyday danger shaped seafaring life.
Andros could treat them like trusted tools, checking the hidden pistol before a dive or a confrontation.
Collins might joke—or grumble—about “pirate ships” and their “surprise cargo.”
Sample Dialogue Snippet Bell: (lifting a crate lid, finding a hidden pistol) “Is this common? I always thought smuggling was more cloak-and-dagger, less… open storage.”
Andros: (shrugging) “In these waters? You’d be crazy to leave yourself unarmed. Pirates, rebels, customs agents… The sea’s a dangerous place, even if you’re just carrying figs.”
Collins: (deadpan) “And that’s the civilian life, eh?”
If you'd like, I can help you draft a short scene around their first exploration of the felucca’s hold, highlighting the mix of everyday practicality and looming danger.