Dr Dick smiled. ‘I see you’ve heard of it.’
‘I read Piccard’s story about it in his book Seven Miles Down. But that dive was made back in 1960. Hasn’t anybody made it since then?’
‘No one, up to now. The challenge still waits for somebody else. The Challenger Deep is a terrific canyon at the south end of the Mariana Trench in the Mariana Islands. You’ll find Mariana Trench on the National Geographic map. It’s a gorge seven times as deep as the Grand Canyon. Looking for minerals is not your job. But we thought you might like to go down to see what animal life, if any, there is down there. Some scientists say there can’t be because the tremendous pressure would squeeze any fish to death. Others say it may be the home of monsters - creatures bigger than man has ever seen. Would you like to find out?’
‘We certainly would,’ Hal said. ‘When do we start?’
‘Our ship will leave tomorrow morning.’
‘But if we go up to the Discovery we will get the bends,’ Hal said.
That’s not the ship,’ said Dr Dick. ‘You’ll go by hoversub.’
‘Now you’ve got me. What’s a hoversub?’ Hal asked.
‘You know the hovercraft - the craft that floats on a cushion of air seven feet above the water. The British already have four whooshing back and forth across the Channel from England to France at seventy miles an hour. More craft are being built. The United States is designing some. It’s called a hovercraft because it can hover or float in the air like a helicopter. And it can shoot along so fast because it doesn’t have to fight the waves - just rides above them.’
‘But,’ said Hal, If we go up to board the hovercraft we get the bends just the same.’
That’s where the hoversub comes in. It’s so new it hasn’t made the dictionary yet. The hoversub is a combination of hovercraft and submarine. It can travel underwater - not very fast because the drag of the water holds it back; it can go much faster through the air. You can board it down here two hundred feet below. The air in it will be exactly the same as what you are breathing now - mostly helium. The cabin will be sealed tight so the air won’t change. The hoversub will rise above the waves and make the two thousand-mile trip to the Marianas. Then it will sink again and meet Deepboat two hundred feet down. Deepboat will be charged with the same air, and will take you to the bottom and back without any change in pressure.’
‘Wonderful,’ Hal said, ‘if it works.’
‘Well,’ said Dr Dick cheerfully, ‘if it doesn’t work you won’t know it - because you’ll be dead.’
The boys laughed, but they thought it was pretty grim humour.
The next morning, there was the hoversub waiting at the corner of Research Street and Main. At the back it had jets like those of an aeroplane. On its belly was a great superjet from which air could be expelled with enough force to lift the vessel above the surface of the sea.
The boys crawled in through the open hatch. Already aboard were two geologists and the pilot. The geologists shook hands. They were young men, perhaps in their twenties, and seemed as highly excited as the two naturalists.
The hatch was sealed tight and the jets turned on. The hoversub climbed the two hundred feet to the surface and then burst through into the air as if it belonged there. It scudded along twelve feet above the waves.
‘This thing must weigh a ton,’ Hal said. ‘Must be a pretty powerful motor to lift it this high,’
‘They say it’s three thousand five hundred horsepower,’ said one of the geologists. ‘How smoothly it rides! No pitching, no rolling. I like that. I get mighty seasick in an ordinary boat.’
The sea was very choppy - but the crests of the waves never touched the flying submarine. They snarled and spit as if they were angry not to be able to toss this thing around as they could a surface craft of the same size. A fishing boat going in the same direction had a hard time bucking the strong wind and contrary waves. It was not making more than five miles an hour. The hoversub shot by it at seventy and there was scarcely time for the fishermen to wave before it was gone.
Even at this speed it would take thirty hours to get to the Marianas. So everybody settled down to sleep, or eat, or talk. The pilot put the controls on automatic and came back to join the others.
‘This is a slowcoach compared with what they are planning,’ he said. ‘Ships that will weigh forty thousand tons and scoot just above the surface of the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans at speeds of several hundred miles an hour.’
He sighted a coral reef lying dead ahead. It was about half a mile wide and three miles long. The pilot didn’t even go back to the controls.
‘Aren’t you going to go round it?’ Hal said anxiously.
‘Don’t need to,’ the pilot said. ‘Nothing to stop us there. No trees. Watch this bucking bronco get over it.’
Hal and Roger watched nervously. The beach slanted up in a sloping bank. Surely the hoversub would strike the bank.
Instead, it rose as the bank rose and flew twelve feet above the land just as it had above the water. It sped across like a scared cat and slid down as the other shore sloped to sea level. And the pilot had not touched the controls.
One bare coral island after another was crossed in the same way. Only where there were coconut palms growing did the pilot have to go forward and guide the ship through the trees.
‘It will go over swamps, bogs, marshes or rivers in the same way,’ he said. ‘It will even climb a hill and go down the other side.’
‘Like riding a magic carpet,’ Roger said.
Magic carpet. It sounded good. So the men named the flying sub Magic Carpet.
‘We’d be over an open stretch now,’ said the pilot. ‘So I link I’ll take a nap. I’ll have to be at the controls all night.’
‘But don’t you need somebody up there while you’re napping?’ Hal asked.
‘No, I don’t think so. There are no more islands. Still’ a ship might get in our way. Then the automatic wouldn’t know what to do. I’ll show you the controls so that you can take over in case of emergency.’
It was very simple. Just one lever steered the craft right or left, up or down.
The pilot went back and was soon sound asleep. Hal took his seat behind the controls. He did not dare go off and leave everything to the automatic.
He studied the chart. They were over the open northern waters of the Coral Sea. He measured the distance against the speed of the craft. It would take about eight hours before the Magic Carpet could reach the island world of the Solomons and New Guinea. Then he would wake the pilot.
It was well along in the afternoon before he sighted the islands. The pilot was still asleep. Why rouse him? The tip of New Guinea pointed at him like a warning finger on the left. It would be easy enough to steer past it. Then there was a large gap between New Ireland and Bougainville. Anyone who couldn’t find his way through here would be pretty stupid. And if any ship appeared he could certainly go round it
But he didn’t reckon on two ships, popping out from behind two islands at the same time and about to pass each other directly ahead of him. He couldn’t steer either to port or to starboard without hitting one of them. He could have stopped this contraption if he knew how, but the pilot had not shown him the position of the throttle. There was no time to call the pilot. Both islands were heavily forested and the Magic Carpet was not designed to go over forests.
A gap suddenly appeared between the trees on the starboard point Perhaps he could hop the island there.
As he neared the shore he saw that the hopping was not going to be easy. The beach was not a gentle slope as it had been on the coral islands. In fact there was no beach. The surf boiled against an overhanging bank. How high it was he couldn’t be sure but he was afraid it would be too high for the flying sub. If he plunged into the rocky wall below the overhang at seventy miles an hour there would be no more Magic Carpet and no life left in its passengers.
Perhaps he could rise above it. He threw the steering lever into the up posit
ion. The hoversub did not rise. He had forgotten that this was not an aeroplane. It would go up through water because its jets kept pushing against the water. It could ride a cushion of air over land because the big jet blowing against the ground held it up. But twelve feet up was the limit.
Hal held his breath. He wanted to close his eyes so that he couldn’t see what happened. He thought of leaving the controls and rushing back to the rear of the cabin so that he wouldn’t get the full force of the crash. But he kept his eyes open and held on.
He expected to hear some cries of alarm behind him. He glanced back. All the others were sound asleep.
The hoversub struck the bank. It shuddered, but kept going. It ploughed through the top layer of stones and dirt, it was crawling on its stomach. Would it make it or not? If it could just get its big jet over the ground it would be pushed up into the air.
Then suddenly he knew it was all right. The powerful jet got its mouth over the edge of the bank and at once bounced the flying sub twelve feet up. The jolt made the pilot grunt and turn over in his sleep. The others seemed dead and did not know how near they had come to being really dead. Hal breathed a deep sigh of relief. He felt as if all his troubles were over. Nothing as bad as that could happen again.
Then he saw something else as bad as that straight ahead. A house was in his way and there was no time to go round it. The hoversub tore into the thatched roof, ripped a big hole in it, and passed through. Bits of thatch flew in every direction. The people in the house must have thought the end of the world had come. They burst out of the doors and windows, screaming.
One of them had a gun and took a pot shot at the flying devil. He missed. Hal’s passengers did not hear the shot over the roar of the flying sub’s own engine.
But other natives heard it and ran out of their houses with guns, assuming that some enemy tribe was making war on them.
They fired at the hoversub and the bullets rattled on the fuselage. This could be serious. If they managed to make holes through the metal shell or smash a window the high-pressure helium would pour out, low-pressure air would pour in, and everybody on board would die of the bends.
Luckily the shell, built to resist great water pressure, resisted the bullets while the Plexiglas bent like rubber but did not break.
A crowd of natives directly in the way scattered with shrieks of terror to both sides, not realizing that even those six feet tall would still be six feet below the flying monster. Some threw themselves flat on the ground and gave themselves up for dead. They were doubtless surprised to be still alive after the thing had passed.
Here was something they would remember the rest of their lives. The story would grow and grow. And some day the old men would take their grandchildren on their knees and tell them about the frightful dragon as big as the island spouting flame from its great red eyes and burning wind from a hole in its stomach, sweeping the land like a typhoon, killing thousands upon thousands of men, women, and children.
As a matter of fact, not a soul was hurt except perhaps a few who got bullets in their legs because the gunmen were too excited to shoot straight.
Chapter 17
Seven miles deep
Another thrill waited for Hal at the other side of the island.
The sea here was very rough. Great billows dashed against the rocks, sending up fountains of spray. But what bothered Hal the most was that this bank was about twenty feet high. What would happen when the flying sub went over the edge?
The boat shot out into space. Now it was where it didn’t belong, twenty feet above sea level. Its jet blast could not support it at this level. It dropped so heavily that it did not stop at twelve feet but went on down and ploughed into the sea. A big fish lying in its path got out of the way with a powerful flick of its tail. The sub came out into the trough of a wave and was almost at once buried in another billow.
Then, hesitatingly at first, it began to gain altitude, and in the next trough managed to climb to its proper height of a dozen feet, at which level it settled down with (Hal could imagine) a hover-sigh of thankfulness.
Its driver had had enough. He put the controls on automatic and went back to give the pilot a good poke. That gentleman woke, blinking.
‘Oh, it’s you. I thought you were going to let me snooze until we got to the islands.’
‘We’re past the islands,’ Hal said. He led the sleepy pilot forward and put his finger-on the chart. ‘We’re here, just beyond the Solomons.’
‘How did it go?’ the pilot asked.
‘Fine.’
‘No trouble?’
‘No trouble.’
‘You were lucky.’
‘We’re all lucky,’ Hal said. ‘Lucky to be alive.’
The little ship flew on, day and night, past wonderful Truk embracing three hundred islets inside its coral reef, on to the south end of the Mariana Trench. There the pilot located Deepboat by radiotelephone and dived down two hundred feet to meet it. The two boats rubbed elbows.
The pilot of Deepboat dropped out of the open hatch and the hatch of Magic Carpet was opened to receive him.
After introductions, he explained, ‘There isn’t room in Deepboat for more than two men. I suppose you two naturalists will want to go down together, and you two geologists will wish to go down together. So that leaves me out. But you won’t need me. Deepboat is not hard to operate. If one of you will go over with me now I’ll show him how to work it.’
Hal insisted that the geologists have the first dive. One went with the pilot who showed him the controls. Then the pilot returned to Magic Carpet and the other geologist joined the first. They closed the hatch and Deepboat began to descend into the depths. Hal and Roger waited as patiently as they could for its return.
‘By the way,’ Hal said. ‘Why is it called Deepboat?’
The pilot replied, ‘Auguste Piccard, the man who invented the deep-diving boat, called it a bathyscaph. Bathy is Greek for deep and scaph is Greek for boat. But builder of this one didn’t see why English-speaking people should talk Greek. So he just turned these words into English, and you have Deepboat.’
‘Was it right here that Piccard’s boat made its dive?’
‘Right here. You are directly above the deepest hole that has ever been found in any ocean. It’s called Challenger Deep and, believe me, it’s deep. Seven miles straight down.’
‘Did Piccard’s boat go down all the way?’
‘Clear to the bottom.’
‘Was his boat the same as Deepboat?’
‘No. Not quite. His boat, called the Trieste, was much larger than Deepboat and heavier.’
‘Has Deepboat been down?’
‘Only about a mile.’
This was a surprise to Hal. He looked worried. ‘So if we four go deeper well be testing it out for the first time.’
‘That’s right,’ grinned the pilot. ‘Whatever you do will be at your own risk. The boat is designed to stand great pressure. But, who knows, it may cave in like an egg. And you’ll come up as flat as pancakes.’
This seemed to amuse him but it didn’t amuse Hal and Roger. ‘It doesn’t seem to worry you,’ Hal’ said.
‘Why should I worry?’ the pilot answered. ‘It’s none of my business. I was just told to bring it here and have it ready. It’s ready. Of course if the geologists never come back you won’t need to go down. That’s a happy thought.’
This fellow, Hal reflected, is just too happy for any good use.
He breathed easier when, after an hour, Deepboat returned. It was still in good shape. The two geologists came back to Magic Carpet.
‘How did it go?’ Hal asked.
‘Very well. We studied the rock strata all the way down the face of the canyon.’
‘All the way? You went to the bottom?’
‘Oh no. That wasn’t necessary. We went down about two miles. We learned all we needed to so there was no reason for going farther.’
‘Now it’s your turn,’ said the happy pilot of Deepb
oat, and took Hal over to show him the controls. The pilot returned in a few moments and Roger went over to join Hal. They made the hatch tight, then turned on the top jets that would push the craft down into the depths of the sea.
There was still some daylight but it faded rapidly as they went deeper. Soon it was as dark as night.
The pilot had been right, the thing was too small for more than two men. Even for two it was a tight fit. It seemed to be a perfectly round steel ball. Through its Plexiglas windows they could see the stars of this underwater night. But these stars were all racing about madly.
The stars were of all colours, red, yellow, green, blue, lavender … They were the lights carried by the phosphorescent fish.
A lantern fish went by, a row of lights down each side like the portholes of a ship. Shrimp threw out bright flames. Jellyfish glowed softly. Venus’ girdles were outlined as with neon tubes.
The hatchetfish was equipped with indirect lighting. The ‘deepsea dragon’ was conspicuous with its rows of green and blue lamps. The greybeard sported illuminated whiskers.
Squids peered out of eyes rimmed with lights, and more lights dotted their tentacles. Toadfish showed no lights when their huge mouths were shut; but when open, a string of lights like a necklace of pearls appeared along the base of the teeth.
All these creatures lived far down beyond the reach of daylight, hence their need of lights. Why some of the lights were white, some yellow, some red, some blue, some green, science had not explained.
One carried what looked like a small electric bulb suspended from a sort of fishing pole in front of its face. This attracted smaller fish - then the light was jerked out of the way and the little fish found themselves between the jaws of the fisherman.
The moon rose. At least it looked like the moon, but Hal said it was a moonfish. It was perfectly round, a full ten feet in diameter, flat and thin, and glowed like the moon.
It is also called the headfish since it appears to be nothing but head. When young it has a tail, but drops it as a tadpole does. What looks like only a head actually contains the stomach and other organs. On the edge of the big moon are two small eyes. Tiny, almost invisible fins along the moon’s edge propel the ton weight of the huge fish slowly through the water.
11 Diving Adventure Page 10
