Brighton Boys with the Submarine Fleet

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Brighton Boys with the Submarine Fleet Page 14

by James R. Driscoll


  CHAPTER XIV

  ON THE BOTTOM OF THE SEA

  Listening for a few moments at the microphones, McClure turned abruptlyand rang the crew to quarters.

  The engine room was signaled to tune up the motors.

  "From the way that fellow is hugging the coast I wouldn't be surprisedif he is a Hun raider poking along on a little reconnaissance,"observed McClure to his executive officer.

  Aroused from his slumber, Sammy Smith took charge of the electricalreceiving room and after listening for awhile gave his opinion thatthe approaching ship was moving south along the Belgian coast anddistant from the _Dewey_ about a mile and a half. From the faintregistrations in the microphones he judged it to be a vessel of lightdraft---probably a small cruiser or a destroyer.

  "Well, we never lose an opportunity to do our duty, be the enemy largeor small fry," observed McClure.

  After waiting for a few moments longer, and being advised of thecontinued steady approach of the ship, the young lieutenant decidedto move in closer to get within better range, and then rise to thesurface and "look her over." It was well on toward four o'clock andsoon would be daylight.

  Creeping along at half speed, the _Dewey_ veered slightly to starboardand steered a course N.N.W. toward the oncoming craft. After cruisingthus for a quarter of an hour the submarine was stopped altogetheragain and her captain conferred again with his wireless chief.

  "She seems to have changed her course," announced Smith after listeningintently at both port and starboard microphones. "As near as I cancalculate she has turned off abruptly to port and is running due easttoward the coast."

  "Fine!" exclaimed McClure. "A German for sure. And now perhaps wecan track her to her lair."

  In a few moments the _Dewey_ thrust her periscopes up out of the seaand set out in pursuit of the unknown ship. It was yet too dark tomake her out, except for a dim blur that showed faintly against thebackground of the Belgian coast. By striking the _Dewey's_ latitudeand longitude they figured they were at a point five or six miles offBlankenberghe.

  "Where do you suppose she is heading for?" asked Cleary. He wasplainly puzzled.

  "There probably is a canal near at hand that the Germans have dug outsince their occupation of Belgium, and which they now are using as aretreat for their light draft vessels---possibly a submarine base,"answered McClure.

  For a time the _Dewey_ followed steadily on in the wake of the German.It was not long until McClure, at the forward periscope, was able toget a better look at the foe.

  "A big destroyer," he announced. "I can make out her four funnels."

  It was now apparent to the lieutenant that they were approaching closeto the coast and that very shortly the destroyer must turn again tothe sea or else take her way into some tortuous channel leading inland.

  "Reckon we have gone as far as we can," he declared after a furtherobservation. He had in mind the fact that the approach to the waterwayfor which the destroyer was headed most certainly was mined andthat without a chart of the course he was running the risk of drivinginto one of the dangerous buoys.

  He determined to chance a shot at the destroyer, submerge and go outto sea again. Sighting on the dimly outlined destroyer he releaseda torpedo and then, without waiting to observe the result of therandom shot, gave the signal to dive.

  Down went the _Dewey_. And in another moment, as the gallant subslipped away into the depths, she lurched suddenly with a staggeringmotion and brought up sharp with an impact that shook the vessel fromstem to stern. Officer Cleary was catapulted off his feet and crashedinto the steel conning tower wall, with an exclamation of pain.The _Dewey_ seemed to have run hard against an undersea wall.

  "Reverse the engine!" shouted McClure. "We must have run upon asandy shoal."

  Frantically he rang the engine room to back away. But the order cametoo late. With a slow ringing noise that plainly bespoke the gratingof the ship's keel on the bed of the ocean the submarine slid forwardand then came to a dead stop, quivering in every steel plate from thetremendous throbbing of her engines.

  "Great Scott, we've run aground!" exclaimed McClure as he stoodwild-eyed in the conning tower.

  Jack was despatched to the engine room for a report from Chief EngineerBlaine. He returned in a moment to say that the ship's engines werereversed and the propeller shafts revolving to the limit of theship's power. Nevertheless, it was only too evident that the _Dewey_was enmeshed in a treacherous shoal from which she was unable toextricate herself.

  Officer Binns was ordered to throw off all possible ballast.

  One by one the tanks were emptied. The air pumps were working valiantlybut at each discharge of water ballast the officers of the strandedvessel waited in vain for the welcome "lift" that would tell themthe ship was floating free again. The last ballast tank had now beenemptied and the depth dial still showed eighty-four feet.

  "Looks as though we were stuck, all right," was McClure's solitarycomment as he gazed again at the depth dial.

  The engines now were shut down, the air pumps had ceased working.There was not a sound throughout the submersible, except the lowdrone of the electric fans that swept the air along the passageways.Every man waited in stoical silence a further word from his chief.

  "Jonah had nothing on us," cried Bill Witt grinning, as the groupof boys retreated down the passageway leading forward from the conningtower into the main torpedo compartment. Lieutenant McClure andhis officers were conferring together over the _Dewey's_ dilemma.

  "This ship is no fish," ventured Ted timidly, his mind engrossed inthe new danger that threatened.

  "Well, it's a whale of a submarine, isn't it?" continued Bill in abrave effort to be funny.

  Ted agreed, but was in no humor for joking, and hurried amidships tojoin Jack, who had remained within call of his commander.

  For some moments the boys discussed the predicament of the _Dewey_,the unfortunate circumstances that had led her aground, and thepossibilities of being floated again. Jack confided to his chum thefact that he had overheard Lieutenant McClure say the _Dewey_ probablyhad ventured too close in shore and had run afoul of a sand bar.

  "What's the next move?" queried Ted.

  "You've got me, chum; I don't know what they will try next," answeredJack, feeling a bit glum despite his natural cheerfulness.

  Lieutenant McClure and his officers---Cleary, Binns, and Blaine---werenow making an inspection of the _Dewey_ fore and aft. As they returnedamidships the boys overheard snatches of the conversation.

  "Propeller blades free, aren't they?" McClure was asking.

  "Working free and easy or else the shafts wouldn't turn," Blainewas saying.

  From what the boys could gather from the conversation it was thebelief of the ship's officers that the _Dewey_ was grounded on aheavy sand bar. She had sloughed down deep in the miry sea bottomwith her keel amidships firmly imbedded and her bow and stern floatingfree. The suction of the mud prevented her from rising.

  In the wireless room Jack, Ted, Sammy Smith and Bill Witt finally cametogether and began speculating on the critical predicament of theirship. Cooped up in their cage of steel, shut off from the outsideworld of fresh air and sunshine, the crew of the _Dewey_ were heldprisoners like rats in a trap, dependent for life upon the air theywere breathing and the precious stores of oxygen in the emergencytanks!

  The next few hours were full of anxiety for the officers and crew ofthe stranded _Dewey_. Several times during the morning the ship'sengines were set in motion and valiant efforts made to drag the shipoff the shoal. But each succeeding effort availed nothing, exceptto eat up the precious electrical energy in the storage batteries.

  In the petrol tanks was plenty of fuel for the engines, but it wasuseless here on the bottom of the sea where only the electric motorscould be used in submerged locomotion.

  Realizing the futility of these sporadic efforts at escape, LieutenantMcClure decided to wait until one o'clock for another supreme effort.It would be hi
gh tide at noon and he decided to make the great effortshortly thereafter on the thin hope that he might get away with thetide running out to sea.

  The time passed drearily. Jack and Ted tried to get interested in agame of chess, but with little success. Bill Witt sought with mouthorgan and banjo to buoy up the spirits of his downcast mates andsucceeded poorly. Noon mess was served at eleven forty-five andeven Jean Cartier, as he dispensed canned beans, brown bread, stewedfruit and tea, forgot to smile as usual at his culinary tasks.

  "We ought to get away now if we are to get off at all," Jack overheardLieutenant McClure say to Cleary after mess kits had been stowed andpreparations were under way for the "big drive."

  In a few minutes more the _Dewey_ was primed for the test. Soon theclatter of machinery aft indicated that the engines were in motion.

  "Back away!" was the signal flashed to the engine room. Instantlythe full power of the motors was turned into the giant shafts and thepropellors threshed the ocean with the fury of a wounded whale. Withall the might she possessed the submarine strove to free herself andfloat away to freedom.

  Thrice were the engines stopped and started again. But every time thequivering submarine failed to move an inch!

 

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