Operation White Out E-Book

Robert G. Williscroft

• Herausgeber: Fresh Ink Group
• Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
• Serie: A Mac McDowell Mission Series
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Seitenzahl: 497

Beschreibung

Recovering from his Operation Arctic Sting injuries, USS Teuthis Executive Officer Mac McDowell is tasked with laying SOSUS arrays in the southern Atlantic and off Thurston Island, Western Antarctica. Teuthis tangles with Argentine subs in the south Atlantic, then confronts a ChiCom sub off Thurston Island. Mac and his team experience serious setbacks at the hands of the ChiComs while installing a relay transmitter on a nearby mountain peak. Teuthis discovers an underwater oil operation off Thurston Island and is tasked with escorting a Taiwanese sub and underwater tanker under the cover of the largest military marine exercise since World War II: PacEx89. Teuthis is attacked by a Chinese Han-class sub and a previously unknown North Korean AIP sub despite the protection provided by three U.S. fast-attack subs. Will Mac and Teuthis complete their mission, or will they finally meet their watery graves on the Pacific Ocean abyssal plain? 

Leseprobe

Praise For Operation White Out

The fourth in Robert G. Williscroft’s Cold War submarine adventures, Operation White Out, picks up with Mac McDowell still hurting, physically and emotionally, from the events at the end of OperationArctic Sting. That doesn’t stop him from taking up the XO position on the USS Teuthis on a trip to the other side of the world from his previous adventures, to Antarctica.

This time, in addition to their scheduled clandestine duties, Mac’s dive team and the DSRV Mystic exercise what until now had just been a cover story: rescuing crew from a downed sub. Of course, this being a Mac McDowell story, it’s a little more complicated than just that. Fast action, enemy and allied subs, attractive women, spies, and (Ant)arctic exploits—Operation White Out has all the hallmarks of another great Williscroft novel.

—Alastair MayerAuthor of the T-Space Series

I was mesmerized by this remarkable tale of derring-do.

—Captain George W. Jackson USN (Ret.)Author of the Sheppard alternate history novels

Operation White Out may be the best novel in the outstanding Mac McDowell Missions series. Now the Executive Officer of the USS Teuthis, Mac is at the center of a sweeping adventure story. He travels to Falkland Island where his ship completes an acoustic array designed to identify passing Soviet ships. From there he and the crew continue on a “7,800 nautical mile trek” into the Antarctic that leads to Thurston Island and back. Along the way Mac encounters danger, romance, spies, betrayal, deep-sea rescues on the ocean floor, hostile Chinese submarines as well as a Taiwan sub, cat-and-mouse strategic duels with enemy ships, and a lovable, six-ton Orca named Borysko, who follows them and keeps popping up unexpectedly in the most surprising places. Ultimately Mac’s mission leads north to Taiwan where it builds to a shattering climax and a final surprise.

As with previous novels in the series, Operation White Out offers the closest literary approximation to real submarine experience during the Cold War. If you want to know what it was like, read this book, and consult the excellent maps, glossary, and submarine pictures for clarification. At times I almost felt I was onboard the Teuthis and the Deep Submergence Rescue Vehicle Mystic. This experience is enhanced by the author’s often stripped-down style. Going light on adjectives, he skips transitional passages, bringing the reader closer to actual submarine activity. It’s an adventure not to be missed.

—Professor John B. Rosenman, Norfolk State UniversityFormer Chairman of the Board, Horror Writers AssociationAuthor of The Inspector of the Cross Series

Operation White Out is a fascinating adventure inside a nuclear submarine, including international political intrigue and life-and-death undersea conflict, punctuated with humor and a splash of romance. A thoroughly entertaining read and highly recommended, particularly for fans of military drama and anyone who ever served on a sub.

—Kevin G. ChapmanAuthor of Lethal VoyageWinner of the 2021 Kindle Book Award.

Operation White Out

A Mac McDowell Mission

Copyright © 2023

By Robert G. Williscroft

All rights reserved

Fresh Ink Group

An Imprint of:

The Fresh Ink Group, LLC

1021 Blount Ave. #931

Guntersville, AL 35976

[email protected]

FreshInkGroup.com

Edition 1.0 2023

Cover art by Anik / FIG

Artwork by Robert G. Williscroft

Book design by Amit Dey / FIG

Covers by Stephen Geez / FIG

Names, characters, and incidents in this story are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, names, and people, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author and publisher.

Except as permitted under the US Copyright Act of 1976 and except for brief quotations in critical reviews or articles, no portion of this book’s content may be stored in any medium, transmitted in any form, used in whole or part, or sourced for derivative works such as videos, television, and motion pictures, without prior written permission from the publisher.

BISAC Subject Headings:

FIC032000 FICTION / War & MilitaryFIC03105 FICTION / Thrillers / MilitaryFIC036000 FICTION / Thrillers / Technological

Library of Congress Control Number: 2022921561

ISBN-13: 978-1-947893-69-6 Papercover

ISBN-13: 978-1-947893-70-2 Hardcover

ISBN-13: 978-1-947893-71-9 Ebooks

ISBN-13: 978-1-947893-72-6 Audiobook

USS Teuthis Tracks to Antarctica and back to Taiwan

Ebook Readers: All ebook editions (Kindle, Nook, Kobo, GooglePlay, iBooks, etc.) have the Cast of Characters, Dedication, and Acknowledgements moved to the end of the story where you will find a Glossary and a lot more.

Table of Contents

Praise for Operation White Out

USS Teuthis Tracks to Antarctica and back to Taiwan

Prolog

ComSubPac—Pearl Harbor, Hawaii

National Naval Medical Center—Bethesda, Maryland

National Naval Medical Center—Bethesda, Maryland

Part One

Chapter One—Return To USS Teuthis

USS Teuthis—General Dynamics, Electric Boat

USS Teuthis—General Dynamics, Electric Boat

USS Teuthis—General Dynamics, Electric Boat

The Oasis—New London, Connecticut

Chapter Two—Sea Trials

General Dynamics, Electric Boat—Fast Cruise

USS Teuthis—Sea Trials

USS Teuthis—Hudson Canyon

USS Teuthis—Encounter with Cameroceras— Hudson Canyon

The Oasis—New London, Connecticut

Chapter Three—North Atlantic

USS Teuthis—Underway through Block Island Sound

USS Teuthis—Underway on the Surface

USS Teuthis—Transit to the Equator

USS Teuthis—Crossing the Line

USS Teuthis—Transit to the Fauklands

Chapter Four—Falklands

USS Teuthis—33 NM East of Kelp Point

USS Teuthis—Surface Transit to Mare Harbour

USS Teuthis—Mare Harbour

The Pub—Mare Harbour, Falkland Islands

Chapter Five—DSRV Ops

USS Teuthis—Mare Harbour

USS Teuthis—Transit to DSRV Ops

USS Teuthis—DSRV Ops with Splendid

USS Teuthis—Transit to Mare Harbour

USS Teuthis—Mare Harbour

Chapter Six—Transit to South Georgia Island

USS Teuthis—Underway from Mare Harbour

USS Teuthis—Surfaced Transit to Open Ocean

USS Teuthis—Transit to South Georgia

Chapter Seven—South Georgia Island

USS Teuthis—South Georgia Island—40 NM off Cape Douglas

USS Teuthis—South Georgia Island—King Edward Point

USS Teuthis—DSRV Ops East of King Edward Point

Chapter Eight—Subsunk

USS Teuthis—East of South Georgia Island

USS Teuthis—DSRV Ops With ARA San La Muerte (S-43)

USS Teuthis—Mare Harbour, Falkland Islands

USS Teuthis—Underway for Thurston Island

Part Two

Chapter Nine—Bellingshausen Sea

USS Teuthis—Bellingshausen Sea

USS Teuthis—North of Thurston Island

USS Teuthis—Finding Kearns & Starr Peninsulas

USS Teuthis—Potaka Inlet

Chapter Ten—Thurston Island

USS Teuthis—Potaka Inlet Polynya

Divers—On the Seafloor & Ashore, Potaka Inlet

Chapter Eleven—Potaka Inlet

USS Teuthis—Potaka Inlet

Mystic—Potaka Inlet Head

USS Teuthis—Bottomed in Potaka Polynya

Dive Team—Smith Peak

Chapter Twelve—Whiteout

Dive Team—Descending Smith Peak

Dive Team—Transit to Glacier

Dive Team—Trench Shelter

Chapter Thirteen—Glacier

Dive Team—Trench Shelter

Dive Team—Potaka Glacier

Chapter Fourteen—Leopard Seal

Dive Team—Potaka Inlet

Mystic—Potaka Inlet

USS Teuthis—Potaka Inlet

Chapter Fifteen—Chángzhēng 3A & Hi Bào

USS Teuthis—Glacier Bight

USS Teuthis—Wagoner Inlet

USS Teuthis—Bottomed in Wagoner Inlet

Wagoner Inlet—Diving Ops on Bottom

Chapter Sixteen—ROCS Hi Bào

ROCS Hi Bào—Wagoner Inlet

Mystic—Wagoner Inlet

USS Teuthis—Wagoner Inlet

USS Teuthis—Oil Extraction Facility

USS Teuthis—Wagoner Inlet

ComSubPac—Pearl Harbor, Hawaii

Part Three

Chapter Seventeen—ROCS Qiántng Yóuchuán Èr

USS Teuthis—Wagoner Inlet, Northern Edge

USS Teuthis—Bottomed Under the Ice, Wagoner Inlet

Chapter Eighteen—Rendezvous

USS Teuthis—Underway with Hi Bào at North End of Wagoner Inlet

USS Teuthis—Underway in the Southern Ocean

Chapter Nineteen—Auckland Island

USS Teuthis—International Date Line

USS Teuthis—Campbell Island

USS Teuthis—Auckland Island, the General Grant Wreck Site

USS Teuthis—Auckland Island, the General Grant Wreck Site

Chapter Twenty—Solomon Islands

USS Teuthis—Tasman Sea

USS Teuthis—Coral Sea

USS Teuthis—Solomon Islands

Chapter Twenty-One—PacEx89

USS Teuthis—Rendezvous Point

USS Teuthis—Cat & Mouse

USS Teuthis—Consequences

Chapter Twenty-Two—Micronesia

USS Teuthis—Aftermath

USS Teuthis & USS Pigeon—DSRV Ops

USS Pigeon & ROCS Hi Bào—DSRV Ops

USS Teuthis—Micronesian Waters

Chapter Twenty-Three— Philippine Sea

USS Teuthis—The Final Leg

USS Teuthis—Off the Southern Coast of Taiwan

USS Teuthis—DSRV Ops off the Southern Coast of Taiwan

USS Teuthis—Kaohsiung City Harbor

Epilog

epi1National Naval Medical Center—Bethesda, Maryland

epi1Mare Island Naval Station—Vallejo, California

Post a Review

Dedication

Foreword

Disclaimer

Cast of Characters & Ships

USS Teuthis (SSNR 2) Organizational Chart

Cast of Characters

USS Teuthis Underway Watch Sections

Section One—0600 to 1200

Section Two—1200 to 1800

Section Three—1800 to 2400

Section Four—2400 to 0600

List of Ships and Submarines

USS Teuthis—Cross-section

USS Teuthis—Cutaway

A Note about Saturation Diving

Excerpt from Operation Ivy Bells by Robert G. Williscroft

About the Author

Other Works by Robert G. Williscroft

Connect with Robert G. Williscroft

Glossary for Operation White Out

Acknowledgments

Prolog

COMSUBPAC—PEARL HARBOR, HAWAII

Commander Archibald Desmond focused on two semis speeding across a high bridge with a Corvette sandwiched between them, surrounded by traffic front, back, and left, with railing on the right. Suddenly, the front semi braked and turned sharply left. The trailer twisted right, slamming through the bridge rail. The Corvette braked hard, skidding toward the broadsided trailer as the semi behind the Corvette slammed into its left rear, spinning the little sports car to the right. Despite the grittiness of the monochrome satellite image on the RCA KP-5040 projector TV, Desmond saw the second semi push the Corvette through the broken railing of the Gold Star Memorial Bridge, 135 feet above the Thames River, in Connecticut.

“Rewind, please,” Desmond said softly.

Rear Admiral Austin B. Scott, Jr., manipulated a control on his desk and glanced at R. Adm. Jack Darby, who was there to relieve him as Commander, Submarine Force Pacific—ComSubPac.

After watching the Corvette for the second time plunge off the bridge into the river 135 feet below, Desmond uttered softly, “I’ll be a sonofabitch! Those fucking assholes deliberately forced them off. It wasn’t Mac’s fault. They killed my Kate!”

In the ensuing silence, Scott said, “You might want to mention that to Mac.”

NATIONAL NAVAL MEDICAL CENTER—BETHESDA, MARYLAND

“It’s me, Jack,” Master Mariner Jack Petrikoff said as Mac opened his eyes and squinted at the sunlight flooding into his hospital room through the upper floor window. “Jack Petrikoff…I come as soon as I hear—red-eye, Kodiak, Seattle, DC.” Petrikoff looked at Mac warmly. “You alive, my friend. You alive!”

“Wha’ happened? Where am I?” Mac asked weakly.

“Don’ know, Mac, don’ know. Just got here from Kodiak, but you in the Bethesda Naval Hospital, Washington, DC.”

“Where’s Kate?”

As Mac struggled to sit up, a white-uniformed nurse with lieutenant bars on her collars hurried into the room. “Easy does it, Commander. You can sit up, but you have to be careful. You suffered two broken legs, three broken ribs, and a chipped vertebra.” She smiled while adjusting his IV drip. “Push the call button if you need me.” She placed the console in his left hand and departed.

Mac’s blue eyes focused on Petrikoff’s. “What the fuck, Jack? Where is she?”

A knock on the door, and R. Adm. Scott entered, followed by Cmdr. Desmond. Mac lifted his right hand in an attempted salute.

“You’re uncovered and indoors, Commander, so knock it off!” Scott said with a chuckle. “You know Archie, and I know Master Mariner Petrikoff. So much for the preliminaries.”

Desmond stepped to the foot of Mac’s bed, wondering how the admiral would handle this.

Scott pulled up a chair and turned it around, straddling it while leaning forward against its back. “Glad to see you’re still with us and conscious.” Scott’s demeanor turned serious. “I’ve got some bad news for you, Son, and there’s no way to soften this.” He cleared his throat and swallowed. “You got pushed off the Gold Star Memorial Bridge by a couple of semis—part of a sleeper cell in New London. Borysko pulled you and Kate from the wreck on the bottom, but Kate didn’t make it.”

“What…?”

Desmond felt his own stomach drop…again.

“I am terribly, terribly sorry, Mac, but Kate’s gone.” He turned to Desmond with a slight nod.

“I watched the satellite video, Mac. You were sandwiched between two semis with no way to get away because of the traffic. Your DIA2 escort was stuck behind the second semi the whole time. They deliberately crashed the front semi and pushed you off the bridge.” A catch filled his voice. “The water impact broke Kate’s neck; it’s a miracle you survived.” He paused to regain his composure. “Borysko brought both of you back to EB.3 You’ve been in a coma until just a short while ago.” His voice trailed off.

“I’m working with DIA Director General Gene Tighe,” Scott said. “We’ll get those bastards, I promise you.”

Petrikoff remained in the background during Scott’s and Desmond’s conversations with Mac. So, that’s how it happened. Oh, Kate, my poor wonderful girl. He felt himself tearing up, sniffled, and blew his nose. At least you had some happiness before the bastards got you. He stepped to the bed and gripped Mac’s right hand.

“I’m here for you, Diver Boy. You know that.” He peered through his lashes at the look the two naval officers exchanged.

Mac squeezed his hand.

“Thanks, Jack.”

Scott cleared his throat. “I still have some official business with the commander.”

“Sorry, Admiral, we been through a lot together, me and Mac.” Petrikoff stepped to the side of the small room.

“I understand.” Then Scott turned his attention to Mac. “Commander McDowell, you are being assigned as Executive Officer to USS Teuthis.”

“Commander…?”

The admiral placed a set of silver oak leaves on Mac’s pillow.

“TOG…,” Mac started to say, referring to his old team, the Test Operations Group.

“Is being assigned to newly commissioned Warrant Officer Hamilton Comstock,” Scott interrupted with a smile. “Teuthis has a new, complex assignment, and CNO wants to keep the team together,” referring to the Chief of Naval Operations.

“Nuclear Power School…?” Mac started to ask.

“I’m getting to that. Admiral Kinnaird McKee has replaced retiring Admiral Rickover as Naval Reactors. He’s tentatively agreed to let you do the classwork here at Bethesda while you recover. Somewhere along the process, he will personally visit you to assess your progress. That’s when the final decision will be made.” Scott stood up and shook Mac’s hand. “Good luck, Son. I wish I had a couple dozen officers like you.”

Desmond leaned across the bed and took Mac’s hand. “Kate was not your fault, Mac. You gotta believe that.” He placed his left hand over their clasped right hands. “We’ll get the bastards, I promise!”

NATIONAL NAVAL MEDICAL CENTER—BETHESDA, MARYLAND

“You are eligible for a medical retirement with full pay and benefits,” Mac’s Navy detailer, a captain, told him by phone. “You’ve given more than just about anyone. You’re a genuine hero whose exploits are already a legend here at BUPERS.4” The caller paused. “Hell, Commander, I outrank you, but I’ll come to my feet any time you enter a room.”

p

“Thank you, Captain. You made my day, but I don’t deserve your kind words. My team did all the hard work, and they deserve all the accolades, not me. Mostly, I was along for the ride, and when I got back, I managed to get my girl killed. Some hero I am. Besides, I got to get my Nuke quals done so I can ship out with the real heroes.” Mac disconnected the call.

Working through the Nuclear Power School curricula was as difficult a task as Mac had ever undertaken. The theory wasn’t difficult—he already knew most of that stuff. It was the application on a submarine that required all his attention. Difficult probably didn’t describe it so much as challenging. Since 1958, when the USS Nautilus launched, the Navy had experienced zero nuclear reactor incidents. That was an extraordinary accomplishment brought about by strict adherence to a set of procedures that never changed, ever. Learning those procedures was not particularly difficult, but making them a part of his person, a part of his inner being, was a major accomplishment.

Every day, Mac did three things: Rehab for eight hours, study for eight hours, and eat and sleep for eight. Kate was gone, and there was nothing Mac could do about it. So, he concentrated on beating the odds—in rehab and his off-campus studies.

Mac’s hospital room no longer looked like one. Free weights, a treadmill, a stationary bike, and a small trampoline for in-place running occupied one side of his room. A desk and study materials took up the other side. Just the evening before, he had completed the last of his Nuclear Power School Assignments.

Mac strolled down the hallway and took the staircase down to the second-floor cafeteria, where he consumed a protein-rich meal. A half-hour later, while running a measured five miles on his trampoline, a knock on the door interrupted his concentration.

A four-star admiral in uniform stepped into his room. “I’m Admiral Kinnaird R. McKee, Naval Reactors.” He held out his hand.

Mac wiped his with a towel and shook. “Commander J.R. McDowell, Sir.”

Adm. McKee sat on the edge of Mac’s immaculately made bed.

“It’s time I met you, Commander. From what I hear, you walk on water…but I doubt that. I understand that an Orca had to retrieve you from the bottom of the Thames.” He offered a brief smile. “But that’s not why I’m here. I wanted to meet you to see if I want you to join my cadre of nuclear-trained submarine officers.” He paused. “I’ve reviewed your training. You are at the top of your class despite not being able to attend classes personally. ComSubPac5 wants you as XO of Teuthis, and I understand his reasons. I know you lost your girl when you went off the bridge. Is this going to impact your critical thinking when you are EOOW6 on Teuthis at five hundred feet and something goes wrong?” The admiral locked eyes with Mac.

What the fuck! Mac thought as he kept his gaze steady. “You’ve studied my record, Admiral,” Mac answered. “What do you think?” Mac took a deep breath. “I know my priorities, Admiral. That’s why I’m alive, and my team is still functioning.”

Adm. McKee sat quietly, apparently contemplating what Mac had said. “Okay,” he finally spoke up, “complete your EOOW quals on Teuthis, and I’ll certify you as fully nuclear qualified.”

_____________

2Defense Intelligence Agency.

3General Dynamics Electric Boat Company in Groton, Connecticut, the builder of many US submarines.

4Bureau of Personnel.

5Commander Submarine Force Pacific.

6Engineering Officer of the Watch—in charge of the nuclear plant and propulsion systems.

PART ONE

Southward...Ho!

General Dynamics Electric Boat.

CHAPTER ONE

Return to USS Teuthis

USS TEUTHIS—GENERAL DYNAMICS, ELECTRIC BOAT

From across the parking lot, as my official driver brought me to the pier, I saw that Teuthis had a fresh coat of paint—matt black with a white 002 on her sail. As I dragged my seabag and suitcase out of the trunk, topside watch Seaman Billy-Bob Yokum came down the brow to the pier, leaving his newbie assistant on deck.

“Welcome back, Commander. Glad you’re on your feet again.” He tossed my seabag over his shoulder and grabbed my suitcase handle as we headed toward the brow. “Where’s your dive gear, Sir?”

“I shipped it ahead. Ham probably already has it stowed in Dive Control. So, how’s your aim, Billy-Bob?”

“Never better, Sir.”

Billy-Bob was the shooter who took out the driver of the explosives-loaded pickup on Woman’s Bay wharf while we were getting underway for Operation Arctic Sting.

As we reached the top of the brow, I turned and saluted the flag flying from the stern—the National Ensign. Then I faced Yokum’s assistant.

“Request permission to come aboard,” I said, saluting.

He returned my salute. “Permission granted, Sir.”

“Commander,” Yokum said, “this is Seaman Ezra Ben-Gurion, one of our new guys. Everyone calls him Ben.”

I grinned and held out my hand, something I didn’t think he expected. “Give a hundred-ten percent, and we’ll get along fine, Sailor.”

“Wow, Commander! I never thought I’d meet someone like you, Sir.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Yokum scowl at Ben-Gurion as he called the Duty Officer on the squawk-box. Moments later, a blond-headed, gangly twenty-seven-year-old officer stuck his head through the forward hatch, grinning from ear to ear.

“Welcome aboard, Mac. Great to see you again.” He saluted and shook my hand.

I first met Seth when he joined the crew as the Sonar and Radio officer before we undertook Operation Ice Breaker. Because I was a former Sonar Tech, I got to know him well, and we became friends. He was an eager learner and took to submarining like an old pro.

“Lieutenant Seth Beaumont,” I said, “congrats on the promotion—and being assigned Ops Boss.”

“And Navigator,” he added. “Thanks. Fonzie made chief; he’s my Chief Quartermaster now. And Lieutenant junior grade Wilbur O’Hara is Comm–Sonar, but I guess you already know that.”

“How’s the old alma mater?” I asked.

“University of Oregon? I’m working on my Master’s in math,” he answered, “by correspondence, can you believe it? Somebody they trust has to supervise my exams. Maybe you can do that.”

“Let me get settled first, and then we can look at that,” I said, heading toward the hatch.

It’s different this time, I thought as we descended through the forward hatch into the Torpedo Room. I can feel it in my bones. I’m a full commander now, not just responsible for the dive team and operations like before. I’m the Executive Officer, responsible for the entire crew and the entire sub under the skipper. I didn’t see this as a burden, however, more like a big challenge.

“Close the door and have a seat,” Commander Lonie Franken-Ester, Commanding Officer of Teuthis, told me with a warm smile.

I made myself comfortable on his red Naugahyde-covered couch.

“Good to see you doing so well, Mac. I can’t tell you how sorry I am about Kate. I really appreciate your willingness to take on this assignment.”

I acknowledged, and in my pocket I fingered the ivory cylinder Kate gave me in Kodiak just before we headed into the Arctic, what seemed so long ago.

“We have a difficult assignment ahead of us, Mac.” He handed me a large sealed manilla envelope. “We’re headed for Antarctic waters to lay SOSUS arrays. As soon as you’re settled, study the contents, and then let’s talk. I’m putting you on the EOOW watch bill under Lt. Cmdr. Watson. Once Doug is satisfied with your performance, you can turn your attention fully to your XO duties.”

Ham met me as I stepped into Dive Control. “Mac!” He gripped both my forearms in warm friendship.

“Congrats, Warrant Officer Comstock! How’s the team?”

“We lost Whitey, and Ski made first-class. Bill’s the Team Master Sat Diver now. Our new guys are Electronics Tech Two José Romero and Torpedoman Two Gilbert Ross, both former submariners fresh out of sat school. And Sergyi is back with us, on loan from the DIA.”

We captured Sergyi, a Ukrainian diver, during Operation Ivy Bells with the USS Halibut. He defected and ultimately became part of both Operations Ice Breaker and Arctic Sting. Sergyi was a significant resource for the DIA and a man whose friendship I greatly valued.

“Where is everyone?”

Ham grinned. “I had them make themselves scarce while I briefed you. I wanted to see with my own eyes that you are the same Mac who twice took us through the Arctic. I heard things—some I believed, some I didn’t. But just lookin’ at you and hearing you…” He put his hand on my shoulder. “Mac, I’m so terribly sorry about Kate. We all loved her, you know.”

I fingered Kate’s ivory cylinder in my pocket. I didn’t open it very often, but when I did, her faint spicy odor still emanated from the thong she had placed inside when we first parted.

“Thanks, Ham. You guys were special to Kate, too. She saw all of you as heroes she had the good fortune to know personally.”

Fortunately, before things got too mushy, Ham signaled for the divers to join us. For a few heartfelt moments, I was not a navy commander, and the TOG divers were not navy enlisted men. We were fellow comrades who had faced danger and death together against overwhelming odds.

Then Ham called the team to attention. As a group, they saluted and said in unison, “Welcome home, Commander!”

USS TEUTHIS—GENERAL DYNAMICS, ELECTRIC BOAT

At a sharp rap on my stateroom door, I looked up from examining the mission orders the skipper had given me earlier.

“Enter,” I said, coming to my feet.

“Master Chief Torpedoman Jerry Boston, Chief-of-the-Boat, Sir.”

The COB was about my height, with weathered features and a short-clipped brown brush cut. He sported a trimmed mustache, and he obviously worked out regularly.

“Ready for your walk-through, Sir?” His voice had a medium timbre that I sensed could cut through any noise level should he choose. “I hear you served on Teuthis before her conversion and then again on her Arctic exploits. You’ve probably forgotten more about her than I ever learned.”

“Let’s just take an easy stroll through each compartment so I can familiarize myself with things I haven’t seen in a while,” I said. “Please point out anything you think I should be specifically aware of.”

“Okay. Since I’m relatively new myself—I relieved Davis when you brought the Alfa to EB7—I recently spent a lot of time on my own quals, so I’ve got a good handle on things, especially forward.”

We started with the torpedo tubes and moved aft into the Crew’s Mess, where we grabbed cups of Joe. We checked out the crew sleeping spaces and heads and then mounted the ladder to the Control Room. I stuck my head into Radio and greeted Sparks, Senior Chief Garth Walkman, who was a holdover from my last assignment aboard Teuthis. Across the passageway in Sonar, I met three new sonar techs, First-class Godfry Mason, and William Ferrell and Scott Sportsman, both second-class. King—newly promoted Senior Chief Royal Bennett—with whom I had sailed since the beginning, was off the boat, working some angle.

In the Nav Station, I chatted with newly minted Chief Quartermaster Gary Fonzarelli and Jubal Hanshaw, proudly sporting first-class stripes. They had two new second-class quartermasters whom I would meet later. I entered the Nav Center and congratulated Senior Chief Rusty Jackson on his promotion.

“Let’s skip Dive and Cable Reel,” I said. “I visited Ham earlier today.”

We passed through Dive upper compartment, over the Cable Reel Chamber (CRC), through the Reactor Tunnel into the Auxiliary Machinery Space, and then into the Engine Room.

As I entered the Maneuvering Room—or Maneuvering as it was normally called—Engineer Doug Watson showed up with a wide grin and outheld hand.

“Welcome back, Mac. Looks like I get to herd you around for a while when you’re not playing XO.” He looked at the COB. “Thanks, COB. I’ll take it from here.”

USS TEUTHIS—GENERAL DYNAMICS, ELECTRIC BOAT

Doug and I entered Maneuvering and made ourselves as comfortable as possible. Doug refilled my coffee cup.

“Would you believe,” he said, “I got a call from Admiral McKee himself? He wanted to ensure that I don’t gundeck your EOOW quals.”

“I think he felt pressured by CNO to make allowances for me,” I said. “I’m sure you’ve seen my Nuke School transcript.”

“Yeah. Top of the class, despite everything. ‘That’s just book learning,’ the Admiral said. He wants to ensure you are fully conversant with the actual equipment.”

I chuckled. “I agree with him. Nobody wants someone back here who won’t instinctively take the right action in an emergency.”

“I’ve still got my officers,” Doug said, “although Zeb made full lieutenant and Bert was promoted to Chief Warrant Officer-five. We can rotate you through the watches, so you get experience with each of them. I don’t need to expand my watchbill—I just need to get you fully qualified.”

THE OASIS—NEW LONDON, CONNECTICUT

Like in my previous visits, I parked my Vette—yeah, I replaced the one the Thames River claimed—on Bank Street outside the Oasis and pushed my way through the glass door. I’ve been in a bar or two in my time, some good, some bad. Those of you who have followed my missions know that I think Winnie & Moo ranks near the top of places to get a drink, but I’ve got to say, the Oasis is okay. Oasis caters to Submariner and Coastie wannabees who hang out at the bar whenever they can, with their own kind, of course.

This time was no different. Through the smoke, I saw several clusters of short-haired young men talking earnestly over pitchers of beer. No uniforms, but I could tell the difference.

“Over here, Mac!” Ham called through the low din and the smoke.

The guys had pushed the same two tables together that I remembered from before—way before. They had obviously been there a while. That was fine with me. They deserved it, and ahead lay a long dry spell.

Ham handed me a foaming mug. I lifted it high. “To past adventures and more to come!” I said, taking a seat next to Ham.

Sergyi stood, holding his mug up, and said, “За друзей, за дружбу, за щастя, на здоровье.” (Za druzi, za druzba, za shchastya, na zdorovya).

I came to my feet with mug lifted. “For you non-Russian-speaking pukes, that’s For friends, for friendship, for happiness, for health.” I paused with mug held high. “I second that!”

Hooyahs! all around.

I spent the next hour with the divers, listening to their individual, mostly exaggerated versions of things we had done together. The two new guys, José and Gil, hung on every word, especially when the conversation turned to Borysko, the Orca who had adopted the guys.

“Before things get out of hand,” I told Ham, “I need to get back to Teuthis. We go on fast cruise tomorrow morning. I’ll see you then.”

As I left the Oasis smoky interior, I heard a quiet chorus of “Yo, Diver Boy!”

Yep, I was home for sure.

_____________

7See the third Mac McDowell Mission, Operation Arctic Sting.

Electric Boat to Hudson Canyon

CHAPTER TWO

Sea Trials

GENERAL DYNAMICS, ELECTRIC BOAT—FAST CRUISE

In my reports on previous missions, I described fast cruise in some detail. To avoid repetition, here is a shortened version of fast cruise on USS Teuthis.

Before a submarine goes to sea, especially when she has had significant work done, has several new crew members, or there has been a relatively long time since her last deployment, the sub closes the hatches, sets the at-sea watch, and operates alongside the pier as if she were at sea—it’s called fast cruise. The only exception is a topside watch linked to the interior by a squawk-box. Typically, for twenty-four hours, the captain conducts a series of drills covering every aspect of ship’s operations to discover any weak areas in the crew’s preparedness.

Normally, as the XO, I would have supervised the drills in the forward part of the sub, such as fire, torpedo matters, control systems failures, flooding, and diving drills. Since both the skipper and I were very interested in my completing my EOOW quals, the skipper took over that job, and I found myself mostly in Maneuvering under the supervision of one of the qualified engineering officers.

Doug Watson devised drills that tested everything I had learned in my nuclear power training. I won’t go into the details, but he literally ran through every possible reactor failure, from incipient melt-down right down to spilled secondary coolant, which is a minor matter that still must be attended to.

All the while, Ham ran the dive team through a set of drills he and I had worked out when we last sat alongside this same pier on fast cruise. Most of his training was directed at the two new team members, Romero and Ross.

USS TEUTHIS—SEA TRIALS

The morning of our scheduled sea trials, a large truck carrier arrived with the Deep Submergence Rescue Vehicle (DSRV) Mystic lashed to its bed. The chief pilot, Lt. Robert Taggert, his second pilot, Lt. James Deckhart, and their two technicians, Senior Chief Sonar Tech Gaspard Abelé and Electronics Tech First-class Parker Flanger, arrived in a black Chevy Suburban.

The COB and his deck gang worked with the Mystic technicians to anchor Mystic to our after-deck over the Engine Room hatch. Except for the new guys, they had done it before. An hour later, Lt. Taggert inspected the installation.

“Nice job, COB,” he said. “Your guys are getting good at this.”

Lt. Taggert stopped by my stateroom for a brief visit.

“Congrats on the promotion,” he said. “And I’m especially happy to see you fit and functional. Last time I saw you, you looked more dead than alive.” He paused. “I am deeply sorry about Kate. We all admired her so much.”

I fingered Kate’s ivory cylinder in my pocket and pasted a smile on my face. “Thanks, Bob. We’ll have a lot of time to catch up later. Welcome aboard.”

The previous time I took Teuthis on sea trials from EB, I was the Maneuvering Watch Officer-of-the-Deck (OOD)—I got to drive the sub into the Thames River and through Block Island Sound into the open ocean where we dove at the fifty fathom curve—basically thirty miles of rocks and shoals and pay-attention-to-what-you’re-doing.

This time, I was relegated to Maneuvering (not to be confused with Maneuvering Watch), answering speed bells, and otherwise paying close attention to the reactor and steam plant. When things were going according to plan, the EOOW really had little to do. Machines being what they are, however, things inevitably came up. This is especially true following a period of stand-down where the reactor was actually shut down along with all the associated equipment. We ironed out most wrinkles during fast cruise, but during sea trials it was still important to pay closer attention to the plant than normal.

I would like to tell you about an emergency that put my knowledge and skills on trial, but that didn’t happen. Doug ran a tight ship back aft, so nothing went wrong, nothing at all.

After about an hour on Maneuvering Watch, the skipper set the underway watch. I had the second shift, so the next six hours were mine. All that meant was that I wasn’t standing watch back in Maneuvering. I needed to talk with the COB about the crew, with Lt. Cmdr. Waverly Denver, Weaps and Senior Watch Officer, about the officer watch bill, and with Ham and Lt. Cmdr. Franklin James, who was in charge of Special Operations, about the forthcoming dive ops in Hudson Canyon.

Upon our return from the Arctic, a Soviet trawler that was always stationed just inside international waters off Groton went to the bottom through an unfortunate accident that involved my divers. Since then, she had been replaced with one that could have been her twin. We passed within several miles of that trawler on our way out. I am certain that she radioed our position and direction to Soviet Atlantic headquarters.

USS TEUTHIS—HUDSON CANYON

Hudson Canyon is a deep, forty-mile-long underwater slash in the continental margin, lying eighty-six nautical miles southeast of the tip of Manhattan. We conducted our angles and dangles8 there on our last sea trials out of EB and tested our saturation dive system for the first time. It is also the same location where the Cameroceras attacked my divers. A Cameroceras is a giant orthocone that supposedly went extinct over 400 million years ago. The one we encountered looked like a giant squid, living inside a 10-foot-long, cone-shaped shell.

Professor Maximilian Hedgepeth, who headed the zoology department at Massachusetts Institute of Technology, was our guest for sea trials. He had first identified the orthocone when Franklin showed him the videos we had taken during that event that I reported in Operation Ice Breaker. Since then, the professor had mounted two expeditions to the canyon to find the critter or another like it, but without success. As part of our sea trials this time, we would do our best to arouse another Cameroceras.

As we did the first time we were here, we conducted angles and dangles about forty nautical miles along the canyon where the bottom dropped off far below our test depth. Even though I’ve seen it many times, it never failed to surprise me that so many cups got broken and so much equipment ended up on the deck during these excursions. I spent most of our angles and dangles time in Maneuvering, demonstrating that I was a competent nuclear power plant operator.

Ham told me that Professor Hedgepeth spent most of his time in Dive Control. “He didn’t much care for the angles and dangles, but he handled them okay,” Ham said. “He played our tapes of the orthocone over and over. Never did say why. I guess he wanted to find something he had missed in the thousands of times he had already seen them.”

Finally, Teuthis came to a hover a hundred feet above Hudson Canyon floor at 850 feet. Every instinct I had wanted me to be in Dive Control directing what would happen next. Instead, once again, I found myself in Maneuvering accumulating the hours I needed for full qualification as EOOW.

Hudson Canyon, where we were, had virtually no current. Seth Beaumont was OOD. After placing Teuthis in hover mode, he extended the outboards, activating them occasionally to maintain our position. In Maneuvering, we had the plant in idle with propulsion shifted to the Emergency Propulsion Motor allowing us to keep the main engines warm with the occasional puff of steam, ready on a moment’s notice to jump to any speed, even flank, if that was what Conn wanted. Maneuvering had a monitor tuned to Dive Control that would shift to in water when the action shifted. Although I focused on my duties as EOOW, I kept one eye on that monitor. The first order of business, however, was Fish9 ops, surveying a swath of canyon bottom, looking for the orthocone’s characteristic lump.

As I was finishing the last few minutes of my watch, commotion on the Dive Control monitor picked up. My relief arrived, and I split for Dive Control. I called Seth in Control.

“Seth, it’s Mac. I’m stopping in Dive Control on my way to relieve you. I’ll be a few minutes late.”

USS TEUTHIS—ENCOUNTER WITH CAMEROCERAS—HUDSON CANYON

The skipper arrived about the same time I did. Dive Control was pretty crowded, but Ham had things under control. Franklin showed the sidescan printout to the skipper.

“It looks like the Fish identified a lump on the bottom that might be our elusive Cameroceras,” Franklin said to the skipper. “Spook, note the spot and pull the Fish out of there,” he said to Master Chief Ocean Tech Morris Jones, who ran Special Operations under Lt. Cmdr. James.

James nodded to Chief Ocean Tech Francis Oberst, who had been with Teuthis from the beginning. Oberst began retrieving the Fish.

“Launch the Basketball,” Jones told Ocean Tech First-class Wally Dubbs.

Dubbs launched the basketball-size tethered camera vehicle with its high-resolution monochrome camera and spot and floodlights. He controlled it with a joystick on the Basketball Console. As Oberst reeled in the Fish, Dubbs paid out the Basketball, approaching the lump from above and what appeared to be the backside, where it tapered into the bottom.

The skipper called Seth in Control. “Seth, drop down to fifty feet from the bottom and move starboard until you are about fifty feet to the right of the lump. Make these moves with stealth.”

The skipper looked at me, his eyes twinkling. “Don’t you have the incoming watch?”

“I do. I told Seth I’d be a few minutes late so I could drop by Dive Control to see how things were going.” I grinned. “I’m on my way there now.”

When I arrived in Control, Lt. j.g. Wilbur O’Hara was busy carrying out the skipper’s orders under Seth’s supervision. Seth nodded as I stepped onto the periscope stand.

“The first real excitement on my watch, and you have to show up.” He grinned. “Will’s got a handle on things.”

I took a couple of minutes to get the complete picture. Seth didn’t have to tell me anything. They were obvious, and as Seth had said, Will was doing fine.

“I relieve you, Sir,” I said.

“Commander McDowell has the Deck,” Seth said. “I’ll be in Sonar.”

“I have the Deck. Mr. O’Hara has the Conn,” I said for the record and to be sure there was no ambiguity in Control.

I glanced at the monitor, displaying what the Basketball saw. The floodlight illuminated sandy bottom a few feet below the Basketball that was nearly featureless, no little critters, no current swirls, a featureless, desert-like surface, black as midnight except in the circular light beam. To the Basketball’s left, barely visible on the monitor, was the edge of the lump. Wally edged forward, slowly and carefully, not knowing what to expect. He pulled back and up when he reached what we thought was the front of the lump, where it rose five feet or so from the bottom.

I could imagine Prof. Hedgepeth’s excitement as he watched the monitors in Dive Control. With a sudden tumbling motion, the monitor display went crazy. The light and camera continued to function. Several large suckers passed in front of the lens, and then a large, open beak appeared, filling the screen.

The sound-powered handset trilled. It was the skipper.

“Mac, move Teuthis down and around, so Wally has a straight purchase on the Basketball.”

Teuthis was fifty feet to the right of and above the Cameroceras. I rotated to the left and back while dropping slowly until Dive Control told me the Basketball tether projected straight out from the Basketball bay to the orthocone’s front end. I did this by feel because there was nothing to see. The Basketball, although still functioning, was solidly in the maw of the giant creature. Wally and the Cameroceras were in a tug-of-war. All I could see on the monitor, however, was part of the creature’s beak and its gullet, or whatever zoologists called that part of its anatomy.

We stayed in this configuration for about fifteen minutes, the orthocone trying to swim away with the Basketball. Then, suddenly, the beak disappeared on the monitor, and for a moment, through a cloud of silt, I saw twisting, squirming tentacles harshly illuminated by the close-up light. I pulled Teuthis up and away from the giant orthocone as Wally swooped the Basketball out of its reach while still keeping his flood and camera focused on the creature.

The silt settled, leaving a clear image on the monitor of the Cameroceras floating a few feet above the bottom, its cone taking up about twelve feet of its length, and its head and squirming tentacles taking up another twelve feet or so. A thick proboscis extended from the center of its tentacles that it used for jet propulsion, as we had learned during our last encounter. The Cameroceras darted toward the Basketball, but Wally kept just far enough away to avoid its tentacles.

I could not tell if the creature could see Teuthis. We were on the backside of Wally’s light. There was nothing the creature could do to harm Teuthis, but I maneuvered to give Wally all the space he needed to record as much of the Cameroceras as possible. Out of the surrounding darkness, suddenly, a starkly black and white Orca flashed across the monitor. It was fully one-third longer than the orthocone. It turned, made a high-speed run at the giant, but in an astounding burst of speed and maneuverability, the orthocone whipped out of the Orca’s path and grabbed its dorsal fin with its tentacles. This obviously was not the Cameroceras’ first encounter with an Orca. Wally zoomed in on the action, I clearly saw a piece missing from the top rear of the Orca’s dorsal fin. It was Borysko. Somehow, he had found us and, as in past encounters, made it his duty to protect us. Only this time he was in trouble.

The orthocone’s razor-sharp sucker teeth dug firmly into Borysko’s dorsal fin. He shook his mighty body several times without success, and there was absolutely nothing we inside Teuthis could do about. I was beginning to fear for Borysko’s life, when he flipped his tail and drove at high speed directly toward Teuthis. Wally and his Basketball could barely keep up. Just before Borysko’s snout struck Teuthis, he flipped over so that his back along with the giant orthocone smacked into the steel hull. The sound of six tons of angry Orca carrying a ton of hard-shell orthocone on its back colliding with 7,000 tons of submarine reverberated throughout the sub. Several crew members swore they heard a distinct cracking sound as the giant orthocone shell split.

On the monitor, Borysko backed off and then approached the still floating Cameroceras, his six-foot jaws open wide. He took off most of its head and half its tentacles with one bite.

With a split open shell and only half its head and appendages, the Cameroceras settled to the bottom without moving except for some tentacle twitching that slowly subsided. Borysko darted to the surface a thousand feet above for a gulp of air.

I picked up the sound-powered handset and trilled Dive Control.

“Cap’n.”

“Skipper, it’s Mac. That’s Borysko out there.”

“Yeah, the divers made sure I knew.”

“Sir, we need to wring out the dive system, and the divers are already at pressure. I recommend you put the divers out, let them interact with Borysko, and take samples of the Cameroceras for the professor. He can work with Wally or Derrick to point the divers to exactly what samples he wants.”

“I agree, Mac. I’ll instruct Ham.” He paused. “Do you want to lock out to greet the Orca?”

“I’d love to, Skipper, but it would take me a while to press down, and then I would need to decompress. That would take me off-line for too long.”

Monitoring the dive from Control was not exactly a new experience, but it seemed that way. The divers outside the hull were no longer my specific responsibility. As the Officer of the Deck, I was responsible for them in a general way, but Ham carried the load. Watching Borysko cavorting with the divers, it was impossible to believe that the six-ton Orca was anything but overjoyed at seeing his friends again. I think he looked for me, but when he didn’t find me, he gave his full attention to the other divers.

I still had the watch when José and Gil, Ham’s two new divers fresh out of Saturation Diving School, met Borysko. It takes a level of courage not possessed by everybody to place your hand on a thirty-foot Orca’s tongue and scratch. Sure, they saw the other guys do it, but that’s a lot different from doing it yourself. José slowly moved his gloved hand into Borysko’s mouth and scratched. Gil seemed reluctant.

“What taking so long?” Sergyi squeaked, his Russian accent coming through the descrambler. He grabbed Gill’s hand and shoved it into Borysko’s mouth, moving it in and out against the Orca’s tongue. When Sergyi let Gill’s hand go, Gill continued scratching. It was an experience I’m sure they will never forget.

Under close scrutiny from Prof. Hedgepeth, the divers carved samples from every exposed part of the giant orthocone, from what remained of its head and tentacles to its elongated body that normally resided inside the twelve-foot cone. Harry Blackwell, who probably kept his knife sharper than the other divers, worked his way to the Cameroceras’ beak through the mess Borysko had left.

“How much flesh around the beak do you want?” he asked. I had linked the diver comms to Control so I could follow what was happening.

“A couple of inches, if possible,” the professor answered. “If you find significant muscle mass that looks like it might control the beak, try to bring it along as well.”

“Hey, Professor,” Harry said, his voice squeaking from helium and pressure even following electronic descrambling, “this is a fucking mess! It’s not like a biology book drawing. I’ll try to get what you want.”

Borysko returned from his surface excursion and moved in close to see what Harry was doing. When he tried to nip a wayward tentacle, Harry put a gloved hand on his snout and pushed. Harry wasn’t going to push the six-ton cetacean anywhere, but Borysko got the idea and backed off.

As my watch was winding up, Prof. Hedgepeth said he had all he needed, short of going out himself to investigate.

“Not going to happen,” Ham told him, and the professor backed down.

The skipper wanted to conduct Mystic ops where there was zero chance of encountering another Cameroceras. Prof. Hedgepeth assured him that the giant orthocones would not ascend to the bottom depth at the head of Hudson Canyon. I had the Deck watch again. I eased Teuthis up over the canyon’s lip, slipped fifty feet over the bottom for about a hundred yards, lowered the skids,10 and then settled to the bottom.

“Launch the Basketball,” I told Dive Control.

When my monitor image stabilized with a dusky view of Teuthis on the bottom with Mystic firmly clamped to her back, I announced over the 1MC, “Commence DSRV ops,” following the protocol in the loose-leaf binder on the Conn desk.

Lt. Taggert and his people had been preparing for a couple of hours already, so within just a few minutes, Mystic unclamped from her cradle and floated free.

“Talk to me,” I said over the Secure Gertrude.

“Mystic, aye,” Taggert said, his voice crystal clear through the spread-spectrum technology of the Secure Gertrude. We had installed this technology before our Arctic operations, as detailed in my mission reports for those operations.11

“Teuthis, this is Mystic. We’ve got company. It looks like Borysko decided to join us on our excursion. He’s familiar with our operations, so I am unconcerned.”

The monitor view pivoted from Mystic to Borysko and then back to Mystic. The DSRV started to move toward the canyon and soon was out of the Basketball’s range. The last thing I saw in Wally’s light beam was Borysko’s swishing tail.

The protocol had Mystic drop 100 feet into the canyon, approach the canyon wall, rise back above the lip, and return to Teuthis. While we sat on the bottom and Mystic did her thing, I recalled my piloting the little sub under the ice off Akpatok Island in Ungava Bay. I had impressed Bob with my piloting skill when I settled Mystic into her cradle on Teuthis, but that was more luck than skill, and we both knew it. On the monitor, I watched Bob slide Mystic into the cradle and lock it down—perfect the first time. I really enjoyed working with professionals.

We surfaced and made our way back to EB. Since the water was 300 feet deep or less all the way back, the skipper opted to remain surfaced. Down in Dive Control, the divers relaxed in the DDC—the Deck Decompression Chamber, making the best of their week-long decompression.

We conducted drills appropriate for a surfaced sub, even a couple of man-overboard drills for Will and Seth. Borysko followed us all the way. When I took the bridge, he recognized me, leaping entirely out of the water, squealing with delight.

Borysko paced us right up to the EB dock where we moored—almost like coming home. Ham was the first off the sub, going right to the concrete bulkhead along the river. Borysko came to the edge and hung out with him, but clearly was looking for the other divers who were still decompressing. Once I cleared my desk, I joined Ham.

Borysko was overjoyed when I showed up. He bounced up and down and then swam into the river to do two flips—all six tons of him. Then he rested his chin on the bulkhead and opened his mouth. I stretched out my hand and laid it flat against his tongue for more than thirty seconds. When I removed my hand, the Orca went through his joyous antics again, hardly able to contain his excitement.

Ham found a length of 4 x 4 and brought it to me. I lifted it up, showing it to Borysko. He bounced up and down, opening his six-foot mouth wide. I dropped the lumber into his mouth across his teeth. He whistled and backed out into the river. He flipped the 4 x 4 and caught one end, so it protruded out his mouth like a cigar. Flapping his tail and whistling loudly, Borysko headed down the river.

THE OASIS—NEW LONDON, CONNECTICUT

The divers finally surfaced from their thousand-foot saturation dive during sea trials. Ham decided to give them all a night on the town before we got underway. To ensure nothing got out of hand, he required that they remain together and meet at the Oasis. I wasn’t sure he could do that legally, but the guys didn’t complain, so I let it go. As I had some free time, I decided to meet them.

My Vette was in storage, so I called a taxi and paid an arm and a leg to get to downtown New London. The evening air was frigid as I stepped out of the cab and crossed the sidewalk to the glass door. I pushed it, and warm, smoky air roiled into the street. As I had once before, pre-Kate even, I smelled a hint of Flying Dutchman as I entered the dim interior. Ham and the divers occupied a double table to the left, accompanied by several young women plying their wares. Master Saturation Diver Bill Fisher pulled up a chair for me.

“Take a load off, Commander,” Bill said.

I heard a quiet Yo, Diver Boy in the background. Ham glared at the speaker. I just ignored it. Diver Boy was the nickname the fishermen in the Kodiak Breaker’s Bar gave me during our first encounter the day before I met Kate.12 I took my seat, grabbed the mug of beer someone pushed at me, and lifted it high.

“To a job well done, guys!”

Hooyahs all around.

Each of the divers had a story to tell me, bringing me up to date during my absence. Ham jumped in right at the beginning.

“Remember, guys, the walls have ears.”

His comment probably toned down some of the stories, but since Teuthis had not undertaken any classified missions since our return from the Arctic, the stories rolled, much to the delight of the ladies who had latched onto every diver at the table. One pretty lass with jet-black hair and startlingly blue eyes draped her arms around my neck from behind and whispered in my ear, “You want to carry a special memory with you when you get underway tomorrow?” She indicated a pretty blond with long tresses leaning against a door frame. “Carol and I are available…” She blew in my ear.

“Sorry, Kid,” I said, fingering Kate’s cylinder, “I’m just a guest here. You need to make your offer to one of the other guys at the table.” I squeezed her hand.

I heard Ski whisper to José Romero, “Mac don’t trespass. He got class.”

I nodded, stood up, and toasted the guys a second time. “Hooyah!”

Hooyahs followed me out the door.

_____________

8Running a submarine through steep angles and depth changes.

9A remote operated vehicle (ROV) tethered to Teuthis that looks at the bottom with side-scan sonar or electro-magnetic sensors.

10Four ski-like appendages that extend hydraulically from the sub’s bottom, two forward on each side and two aft. See Figure 1—USS Teuthis cross-section.

11See the Mac McDowell Missions 2 & 3, Operation Ice Breaker and Operation Arctic Sting.

12See the Second Mac McDowell Mission, Operation Ice Breaker.

USS Teuthis & Mystic transit from EB in Groton, Connecticut, to the Falkland Islands.

CHAPTER THREE

North Atlantic

USS TEUTHIS—UNDERWAY THROUGH BLOCK ISLAND SOUND

At 0700, the COB handed me a muster sheet. Everyone was present and accounted for. I had taken an early breakfast in the Wardroom and was drinking a cup of Joe in my stateroom while I completed some last-minute forms that Radio would transmit to ComSubLant,13 who had operational control of Teuthis. I glanced at the weather report: A crisp, cold last day of November, overcast with no wind. Snow was forecast for later in the afternoon. By then, we would be well out to sea.

On the 1MC, the Chief-of-the-Watch, the COW, announced, “Set the Maneuvering Watch, set the Maneuvering Watch.”

The sub came alive with people moving swiftly to their assigned stations. Once again, I found myself regretting that I would not be on the bridge as we took Teuthis down the river, past Race Rock, through Block Island Sound into the open ocean. I flipped up my folding desk and headed aft to Maneuvering. I stopped briefly in Control to ensure that setting the Maneuvering Watch was progressing smoothly. The watchstanders moved with confidence, having just gone through this a few days earlier. I looked quickly through the nav scope. The COB had his people topside in cold-weather gear and life jackets. He had raised both capstans, and his people were standing by to single up the lines.

I headed aft through the upper level of the DOC—the Diving Operations Compartment, through the Reactor Tunnel and the Auxiliary Machinery Space, into the Engine Room, where Doug was waiting for me.

“Hey, Doug.”

“Mac...as we get underway, I’m going to be in and out of Maneuvering. We’re chasing down a quirky oxygen generator cell. I won’t be far, but you know what you’re doing, anyway.” He grinned at me. “The book says supervised until you’re officially qualified, so consider yourself supervised.” He looked at Engineman First-class Jay Swimmer, who was the Throttleman for the Maneuvering Watch. “Keep him out of trouble, Jay.”

From my perspective down in Maneuvering, it really made no difference whether we were surfaced, submerged, running a tight gauntlet between islands, or cruising in the open ocean. Our job, mine and the three petty officers with me, was to answer the engine order telegraph promptly by spinning the throttle to the proper setting for the requested bell, maintain the reactor at the proper temperature for the current power demand, and ensure the sub’s electrical load was evenly distributed and that any demanded power draw could be met immediately. The guys on each panel were expert at their jobs. Truth be known, my function was to take the legal heat should anything go wrong.

After about an hour, I figured we were approaching Race Rock. The COW announced on the 1MC, “Now, set the underway watch, Section One. Rig the ship for dive! Rig the ship for dive!”