Falling Star (7 page)

"Okay, boss.  We're ready to let 'er rip," announced Jim Anderson.

"Roger," acknowledged Robison.

The platform of the R/V
Falling Star
started its slow descent.  The seawater rose to gradually cover both Liu and the technicians and, finally, the
Squid
.  The water felt warm and Mike wondered if the wet suit was that useful, but he knew that even in warm water, the wet suit helped to preserve his body temperature.  Finally, the
Squid
lifted off its cradle.  Anderson immediately started its main propeller; helped by Navy divers, the
Squid
inched its way backward to the stern of its mother ship.  Finally, the
Squid
was free of the launch vessel.

Floating just below the surface of the water, Mike and the two MacAlear technicians started down their checklist.  Inside the submersible, Carver checked out each system to assure everything was working up to specifications.  The atmosphere inside the pressure sphere is maintained at surface conditions, so metabolic oxygen had to be monitored as well as the carbon dioxide levels.  Barium Hydroxide canisters were used to absorb carbon dioxide during the dive.  Since no kitchen facilities were on board, the cook on the R/V
Falling Star
had packed sandwiches and a thermos of coffee.

The checklist completed, Mike had one final communication with the occupants of the submersible, "Hey guys, I wish you luck.  I'm really jealous."

"Hey Liu, you'll get your turn."

With that, Mike disconnected the telephone link and stepped off the
Squid
.  Hanging in the water like puppets in storage, Mike and the two MacAlear technicians watched as Anderson blew some air, went slightly negative buoyancy and slowly started the
Squid
into a downward spiral.  Mike and the other two divers watched until the
Squid
disappeared into the murky depths.

The bright upper column water became progressively darker as the
Squid
went deeper and deeper.  The temperature in the submersible also dropped precipitously.  Both Anderson and Carver were grateful for having remembered to wear their long johns.  Several times during the long descent, Carver had to wipe the portholes as the humidity inside the pressure vessel and relative warmth fogged the lenses. 

At one point Carver, in an uncharacteristic effort at humor told Anderson that he didn't know he would have to do windows. 

During the initial descent, Anderson relied on the sonar depth finder to warn them of any obstacles below.  Turning on the outside lights was both wasteful from the battery standpoint and useless given the increasing lack of marine life.  In addition, it was necessary for both occupants to adjust to the increasing darkness.

The plethora of varied aquatic life at the surface also faded as the
Squid
continued its spiraling descent into the blackness of the sea.  As the water color turned primarily dark blue, the only life that the two intrepid explorers saw were occasional rays or sharks.  Even deeper, these denizens of the deep were replaced by eerie creatures, some with their own lighting.

Eventually even these masters of adaptation to the darkness seemed to disappear and Anderson and Carver were left to their own.  Two fragile surface creatures going lower than even marine life adapted to the depths.  Anderson, of course was used to this display of evolutionary adaptation, Carver remained fascinated by the varied life and how it differed so from life as he knew it.

Almost as soon as the ride had started, Anderson trimmed his tanks and the
Squid
came to a slow stop, suspended in the depths of the ocean.  On this first dive, they had arbitrarily picked 12,000 feet.

"Here we are," said Anderson.

As the
Squid
sat motionless, Anderson and Carver ran through the test sequence so carefully worded by Mike and the test engineers at MacAlear so many months ago.  They turned on the strobe lights.

"Wait, did you see that?" exclaimed Carver.  He thought he saw something big - really big - and dark move quickly through the water in the shadowy background.

"May have been a blue whale," said Anderson, "or, maybe a giant squid."

"I didn't think there was anything that large at this depth," replied an uncharacteristically nervous Carver.  He wasn't so sure of what he saw, but it did not look natural.

Almost as soon as they had begun this dive, it was over.  Anderson dropped his ballast and the
Squid
began its slow upward spiral toward the surface.

"There she is!" shouted Mike from the deck of the R/V
Falling Star
.  Everyone else hurried to the stern of the mother vessel excited to see the
Squid
return from its first deep mission.  Already, Navy divers had launched two Zodiacs with their 200 Horsepower Mercury outboard motors and were speeding to the white speck bobbing in the distance. 

Anderson and Carver emerged from the pressure vessel and stood in the conning tower, both were dripping wet not from the sea but from their sweat.  They were both glad to have some fresh air and to bask in warmth of the afternoon sun.  Anderson took the hand held controller and plugged it into the outlet in the conning tower.  Carver took pains to lock the hatch to the pressure vessel, ever mindful that was how the submersible
Alvin
was swamped and temporarily lost a short while ago.

With his hand held controller, Jim was able to steer the
Squid
toward the R/V
Falling Star
.  However, he did not complain when the Navy divers offered him a tow.

After all, thought Anderson, the
Squid
was not intended to be a surface tug.

With the help of the Navy divers and their Zodiacs, Anderson was able to maneuver the
Squid
on to its mounting cradle.  Once secured, the elevator of the
Falling Star
began its slow ascent, sea water pouring out of the crevices of the
Squid
as it rose above the water.  When the elevator platform reached its maximum height, Jim Anderson jumped down from the conning tower.  Waiting for him on the now dry platform were Robison, Sevson, Mike, and McHugh.

"How did it go?" asked Robison.

"Like a charm, I think we're ready for the first bottom dive tomorrow morning," said Anderson, with a big grin on his face.  Carver remained silent.

Later that evening, Carver quietly approached McHugh.  "Commander, I don't want to be an alarmist, but I saw something big move in the shadows when we leveled out."

"What do you think it was, Chief?"

"I don't know, sir," replied Carver, "but it was big and fast."

"What did Anderson think?"

"He didn't see it, but he thinks it might have been a blue whale."

"Interesting, I don't think blue whales could dive that deep," replied McHugh.  "Did you note it in the log?"

"Yes, sir."

"Thanks for telling me Chief," replied McHugh.  "I'll keep it in mind."

What McHugh did not tell Carver about was the incident involving the SSBN - 620, the John Adams.  He made a note in his small notebook that he kept for these events.

That night, McHugh tossed and turned in a fitful sleep.  He chastised himself for acting like a school boy.  During the time he slept, his dreams were filled with all manner of images, some beautiful, some scary, and some downright monstrous.  In one sequence, he was chased by a mysterious shadow, a monstrous unspoken shadow.  What, who, how.... dreamed McHugh.  At dawn he would know soon enough.

"God, I hope it's something explainable," McHugh muttered under his breath.

0630 Hours: Saturday, March 16, 1969, Aboard the R/V Falling Star

In the small mess on board the R/V
Falling Star
, McHugh sat with his usual crew.  His hands clasping the ceramic mug of steaming hot coffee with the MacAlear logo, McHugh was deep in thought.  Sevson sat picking at his scrambled eggs and sausage.  Robison kept going over the checklist and the "Incident Sheet" which detailed the numerous nits encountered during the last twenty four hours of operation. 

Robison wanted to make sure that this dive went smoothly; he was extremely pleased that the Incident Sheet was mercifully short and was comprised of mainly minor items. The three old friends had already fallen back to the unspoken routine that only time and seasoned friendships can long endure.

Robison had smuggled on board a reel to reel tape player and had Sevson, the electronics wizard, jury rig a direct current to alternating current inverter so that they could play some of their favorite music during the cruise. 

As the three friends sat drinking their coffee, the old familiar beat of music played on and Gogi Grant sang, "...The Wayward Wind...Is a Rest-Less Wind...A Rest-Less Wind...That Yearns to Wan-Der...And He Was Born...The Next of Kin...The Next of Kin...To the Wayward Wind...." 

Gogi's voice and the lyrics evoked halcyon memories of cruises on the R/V
Wayward Wind
, the Fifties, and a happier, friendlier time.

"What do you think, Bob?" asked Sevson.

"I think if this turns out to be a dud, we're in a heap of trouble.  If it turns out to be something big, we're in a heap of trouble," replied Lieutenant Commander Robert McHugh, U.S.N. 

"Yeah, I know what you mean," replied Sevson.

"Com'on guys, we've got work to do!" urged Robison, trying to get his old friends out of their funk and motivated.

"Yeah, let's go," agreed McHugh, downing the last of his coffee and briefly shaking as the caffeine hit his system.

The three friends walked out to the elevator platform where Mike, Anderson, and Carver were busy putting finishing touches on the various instrumentation systems.

On this first bottom dive, McHugh had made the decision that he and Robison would be the two observers to join Anderson and Carver.  Dressed in blue coveralls and long johns, McHugh looked more like an automobile mechanic than someone soon to touch the bottom of one of the deepest parts of the Atlantic Ocean.  Robison had a brown paper bag with him, the kind of brown bag you might get in a department store.  Liu was already dressed in his wet suit.

The
Squid
looked glorious.  It was hard not to fall in love with this sleek machine.  As the crew stood around the
Squid
, Robison brought out his brown paper bag and with a flourish demanded everyone's attention.

"On this solemn occasion, I think that it is appropriate to celebrate the maiden voyage of the
Squid
.  Therefore, as the mother, father, progenitor and care-taker of the creature we call the
Squid
, I hereby declare her operational.  As a small memento of this moment, I had some shoulder patches and hats embroidered with the
Squid
insignia for each of you and the other members of this mission."

Someone produced a Polaroid camera and shot some photos of the momentous occasion.

The patch was beautiful.  The royal blue patch was ringed with gold edging, the gold MacAlear logo was intertwined with the tentacles of a white Squid.  Robison started to pass out the hats and the patches.  Sevson stopped him, "Don't you think it would mean more if the whole kit 'n caboodle went to the bottom and then up?"

"Hey that's a good idea, why didn't I think of that?" said Robison.

"Because you're a dumb shit, Robison." explained Sevson with a grin.

Standing off to one side, in a loud stage whisper to Mike, McHugh growled, "Make sure none of that is charged to the United States Navy, Lieutenant Liu." 

Having said that, McHugh made sure he got his patch which he put into the left breast pocket of his coveralls and his hat which he put on his head with a broad grin.

The brief ceremony completed, the men fell to the tasks at hand.  The crew of the
Squid
climbed on board the submersible and disappeared one by one through the conning tower and into the pressure sphere.  Carver, the last of the four man crew to board the
Squid
, pulled the hatch closed and locked the hatch.  Having donned his SCUBA tank and face mask, Mike plugged the cable for the intercom into the receptacle on the
Squid
.

"How do you read me?" inquired Mike.

"Loud and clear, champ!"

The launching sequence went flawlessly and quickly.  Within what seemed only minutes, the
Squid
was committed to the deep, Mike and the two MacAlear technicians watched as the white color of the submersible gently disappeared into the darkness.

The pinging of the depth sonar increased in frequency as the
Squid
spiraled toward the bottom.  The
Squid
settled gently on the soft bottom, stirring up a cloud of silt, undisturbed for centuries in the quietness of the Hatteras Abyssal Plain.  Until the silt settled, there was nothing that the crew could do but wait.  Anderson switched on the outside lights for a second, but all they saw was the reflection of the dust cloud. 

The time gave McHugh and Robison an opportunity to revisit the topographical maps drawn by McHugh's oceanographic team at Port Hueneme, California, from data collected by Nematode and the USS
Marysville
.  The plan was for this team to reconnoiter the northern sector of the mysterious object.  Liu and Sevson in a subsequent dive would explore the southern sector.

"From this map, it appears that we have landed about one half mile to the northeast of the object," said Robison making some rough calculations based on the
Squid's
descent time and current meter readings.

After the silt cloud had dissipated, Anderson adjusted his buoyancy and ever so slowly lifted off the bottom so as to not kick up any more silt.  Taking his magnetic bearings, adjusted for the magnetic anomaly, Anderson headed the
Squid
southwest, toward the mysterious object that had long tantalized everyone on this mission.

Twenty minutes past and the forward scanning sonar picked up a signal that was unmistakably the object.  As the object drew closer, Anderson turned on the outside flood lamps.  McHugh and Robison reclined on the mats that served as cushions and looked out the forward portholes.