Against the Sea: Tales On and Under the Sea

by John E. Christ

  “Are you sure there is no risk?” I said. “...something that you haven’t foreseen?”

  The captain nodded. The view screens were completely crowded with giant squid, their eyes seeming to stare at us from every direction. The experience sent a chill up my spine.

  “They are looking us over very carefully,” the captain said softly. “Somehow I feel they can see and hear us. Those eyes seem to move in response to who is speaking or moving.”

  “That’s impossible,” I said a little too loud. “Those images are electronically reproduced on those screens. For those eyes to see us, they would have to be able to see through our system which is ridiculous or have some sort of x-ray vision which is biologically impossible.”

  “I agree,” he said. “However, my intuition tells me they see us regardless of the restrictions imposed by biology or physics.”

  “What are your current plans?” I said.

  “I’ve collected enough videotape to satisfy a marine biologist for a lifetime,” he said. “We will resume headway toward the Bahamas. All ahead, one third, up to six hundred feet.”

  The squids backed away as we started moving. I thought we would leave them behind, but they all kept pace with our movement.

  “Ulysses!” I pointed at the screens.

  “I see,” he said coolly. “Ahead, one half.”

  The position of our outside companions remained unchanged. Now traveling at nearly fifty knots, the squids kept up with us effortlessly, or so it seemed. The captain remained unperturbed and remained in complete logical control of our boat. What he could be thinking under the circumstances, I could not even hazard a guess. As for myself, I felt uncomfortable, wishing our pursuers would disappear.

  “All ahead, three quarters,” the captain said slowly.

  Sitting in my chair, I tightened my seatbelt snug against my waist. The speed indicator slowly crept up to seventy knots. Our depth was slightly over fifteen hundred feet and decreasing. I knew the hydrodynamic stresses on the hull were high, yet I neither heard nor felt anything that suggested we were in any danger. Under the circumstances, my faith in the captain and our boat was total. I knew we would soon be out of danger.

  “Captain, object pursuing dead astern,” the XO said.

  “Can you give me some specifics?” The captain said firmly. “Is it another squid or something else?”

  Before the XO answered the view screens cleared of all the squids. We had finally left our calamari friends behind. At this speed our pursuer had to be man-made.

  “Captain, all I can tell you is we are being overtaken,” the XO said. “Do you want me to go active and get his signature?”

  “Do it,” the captain said without hesitation. “If someone else has a boat to match ours, we must document it for naval intelligence.”

  A few minutes passed in which I was able to breathe easier. At least I was thoroughly familiar with the naval protocols for dealing with hostile and friendly crafts. Our depth was now twelve hundred feet and still slowly changing upward. An X appeared on the view screen directly astern. The numbers continued rapidly changing indicating that whatever or whoever it was would intercept us within a few minutes.

  “Captain, you won’t believe this,” the XO said almost panicky. “It’s… It’s… It’s ten times bigger than the others!”

  “What?” The captain exhaled loudly. “That’s impossible! Your readings must be in error.”

  “I’ve checked my readings three times and each time I’ve come up with the same result. We’re being chased by a five hundred foot squid,” the XO almost shouted. “It’s damn bigger than we are!”

  Without thinking further the captain commanded: “All full ahead.”

  The numbers associated with the thing chasing us showed we were pulling ahead. My hands firmly gripped the arms of my chair to the point my knuckles were white. Our depth was now one thousand feet. It was still too soon for me to relax and feel comfortable. The captain remained intensely mute in thought carefully studying the data displayed in front of him. I wished I could read his thoughts so I could anticipate what was to come next. I was stunned to finally notice that our speed through the water had passed ninety knots.

  “Forgive me for disturbing you,” I said timidly. “But are we really moving as fast as that?”

  The captain turned and smiled at me. His eyes gave no indication of how he felt. “You can believe everything you see,” he said. “This is the fastest submarine ever to set sail.”

  “How long can we keep this speed?” I said cautiously.

  “Indefinitely,” he said. “The designers at MIT have over engineered everything for strength and endurance including long-term speed travel.”

  “Captain, I’ve lost our pursuer,” the XO said calmly. “I’m not sure we’ve outrun it or it is staying below the layer.”

  “Very well, Mister Jones,” the captain said. “We’ll continue a while longer just to be sure we are alone. I am sure that thing can’t travel as fast as we can.”

  The minutes seemed to drag on like hours. I began fidgeting in my chair as my bladder reminded me it was time to take care of Mother Nature. After a half hour, the captain spoke with the XO on the status of all systems. There were no changes to indicate anything other than we were functioning normally. Of course, that made me feel much better. I would have felt even better if I was able to go to the head. Until the captain indicated we were all clear from any danger, I would keep my place. At forty-five minutes, I felt my teeth floating.

  “Captain...” I hesitated. “May I…uh… Go to the head?”

  The captain turned and smiled at me. “Reduce speed to one half.” He chuckled. “Our guest has to go to the bathroom.”

  “Sorry.” I blushed.

  “No need to be.” His eyes twinkled. “I think we are well out of harm’s way. In fact, I need the XO to take over so I can do the same. XO, are we clear?”

  “Yes, sir,” the XO said quickly. “All clear so far, but I can’t see below the thermal layer. Anything can be hiding down there.”

  “Your concern is noted Mister Jones,” the captain said. “You have the bridge for the moment.”

  “Yes, sir,” the XO said. “I now have control.”

  The captain released his seatbelt, stood and stretched. It was now obvious to me the captain was tense and needed to relax. I unbuckled my seatbelt and started to stand when I was suddenly knocked off my feet by an unexpected lurch of the deck. The captain remained standing and was able to sit back in his chair quickly. I was barely picking myself off the deck when the deck lurched again. This time I heard the unwelcome groan of stressed metal. The first thing that came to my mind was we were experiencing a mechanical malfunction. I looked up into the view screens expecting to see nothing. A huge tentacle swept across the starboard side. I instantly felt a warm wetness in my pants.

  “The damn thing was waiting for us,” the XO shouted. “It shot up from the layer just as we slowed down! That thing has us now!”

  The sounds of stressed metal grew in intensity. The captain paused, read his instruments and ordered full speed. This only intensified the sounds and he ordered all stop. Several tentacles were now visible to us; the creature had us in its grasp. A dull scraping sound made me think of its beak pecking at the hull.

  “What now, Ulysses?” I said forgetting about my own personal accident.

  I could tell from the expression on his face he was stumped. Whatever he was to do, he had to decide before any real damage was done to our boat. The creature was dragging us back down into the depths from which it had come. The depth was at fourteen hundred fifty feet on the view screen and increasing.

  “How much of this can we take?” I said slowly.

  For the first time I saw a hint of doubt in his eyes. I knew he was unsure what to do next, but I knew he would consider all options and pick the one he felt best to get us away safe and intact.

  “Blow all ballast,” the captain said loudly.

  �
��Yes, sir,” the XO said.

  His first command made obvious sense to me. I expected that even a giant squid could not overcome our buoyancy. Perhaps the creature would try, realize the futility of its efforts and go on its way. Hope springs ever eternal as the saying goes. With all our ballast removed I was horrified we were still sinking ever deeper. The creature was incredibly strong and persistent. The floor lurched violently from side to side as I watched the huge eye of the creature come onto the view screen. The eye was so big I probably could have stood upright as a diameter of its pupil. There was nothing I had ever studied or experienced that could have prepared me for this moment.

  The captain remained steadfast in his chair studying the situation. There was nothing to indicate he was anything but calm and collected. The view screens were filled with a forest of tentacles. Each suction cup seemed to reach out at us. The boat rolled to port sharply. The captain ordered all ahead full speed. The boat shuddered. In spite of the total power at our command the creature held firm and continued to drag us deeper.

  “All stop!” The captain sharply slapped his fist onto the arm of his chair. “There has to be a way.”

  “What about electrifying the hull,” I said. “I saw it once in a movie.”

  “That would take time to prepare,” he said slowly. “We need to do something now before we go much deeper.”

  “Captain, I’m picking up signals from the surface,” the XO said excitedly.

  “Man-made or more of these creatures?” The captain paused a moment in thought. “Can we launch any of our weapons?”

  “Sir, all systems are operational,” the XO said. “Whatever is coming this way is in an awful hurry. It sounds like…”

  “Give us some audio in here,” the captain interrupted. “How far away is it now?”

  The boat lurched again in the opposite direction. The captain was fully secure with his seatbelt while I was still struggling to get off the deck and into my own chair. The thought of being beaten up by the erratic motions of the deck barely crossed my mind. I did not hurt anywhere yet which meant I was not seriously injured. I was sure, if tomorrow ever came, I would be bruised all over with aches and pains everywhere.

  The sounds monitored by the XO filled the bridge. It sounded like a collection of shrill whistles being blown all at once. The captain instantly recognized what they represented.

  “How many are headed this way?” the captain said.

  “Certainly more than three,” the XO said calmly. “I’m sure there’s more than that; and you should be able to see them soon.”

  “What are we looking for?” I said. I had my own ideas but I wanted the captain to give his conclusion first. “The sounds are familiar.”

  “Whales,” the captain said. “Whales, the natural enemy of the squid are headed this way. Look!” He pointed toward a dark shadow that flashed by in the distance.

  “Where?” I saw nothing.

  “There’s another,” he pointed. This time I saw what he saw.

  The creature apparently on the hull was also aware of the newcomers. Our downward progress stopped. I could see the tentacles of the creature reach out onto the dark void beyond.

  “Add ballast,” the captain said. “If what I think is going to happen, we will soon be free.”

  “Yes, sir,” the XO said. “I now count about twenty objects moving around.”

  “Whales,” the captain corrected. “We are being rescued by whales.”

  The creature released us completely. A large whale barely one hundred feet long darted in and bit one of the tentacles. The water filled with a dark colored fluid which I assumed was blood. The whale shook its head and moved away. I noticed a piece of flesh missing were the whale had attacked. Other whales encouraged by their leader fell upon the giant squid from every direction. The captain stared at the developing spectacle outside. I got the impression he was more intent on witnessing the outcome than escaping. I must admit, however, I felt the same way.

  “We are witnessing something no man has ever seen before,” he said softly. “...underwater dinosaurs fighting for survival.”

  At that moment a chill went down my spine when I understood the full importance of what he had said. There was certainly nothing on the land or in the air that could even compare. One of the whales was trapped by a tentacle and brought in toward the creature’s beak. I could hear the sounds of distress as the poor creature was pulled closer. I saw blood from where it was held by the tentacles. The call of distress enraged the others to attack with a greater fury. A fairly small whale lunged for the creature’s eye. Our view was suddenly obscured by dark ink. The whales were winning the battle and the squid now had to retreat or lose its life. For us, the only evidence of the continuing struggle was the sounds we heard. Those sounds rapidly moved away from our position. The captain, returning to his sense of duty, ordered us up and away at half speed. The XO confirmed that the struggle remained away from us. We had finally lost our pursuer and captor. I took a deep breath and settled back in my chair.

  “Matthew, we have made history in more ways than I could have possibly imagined.” The captain exhaled loudly. “I am glad you were with me to witness what happened.”

  “You do have it all recorded on tape, don’t you?” I said. “There is no better witness than a videotape.”

  “Mister Jones, we do have the whole incident recorded, don’t we?” the captain said hesitantly. The thought that it might not have, had not even entered his mind until now.

  “I’ve checked,” the XO said. “We have enough proof to satisfy the staunchest doubter.”

  The more distance we put between us and the creature, the better I felt. I could tell the captain was acting more relaxed. That night I slept rather fitfully without consciously dreaming. In the morning, or rather after over eight hours of continuous sleep, I got up feeling as if I had been the loser in a prizefight. I certainly had enough bruises to convince any doctor.

  I met the captain in the galley sitting over a half empty cup of coffee. He seemed deep in thought. I prepared myself a cup of coffee and sat directly across from him at the table.

  “Good morning,” I said cheerfully.

  The captain slowly looked at me with eyes that apparently had seen no sleep. “Good morning, Matthew.” He sighed. “I hope you were able to sleep well.”

  “Very well,” I said with a smile. “The way you look, it doesn’t seem you’ve had the same opportunity. You really need to get some rest to be fully effective at your command.”

  “I know,” he said softly. “I have had a hard time putting yesterday's incident out of my mind long enough to get any sleep. The XO is more than capable of running things while I am asleep. I went to bed, but after tossing and turning for six hours, I gave up on sleep.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” I said genuinely sympathetic. “But you must rest. It’s not possible to go too long without sleep.”

  He rubbed his eyes and stifled a yawn. “Perhaps I can go now and get a few hours of sleep.”

  “At least try,” I said warmly. I tried to encourage him. “I’ll go back to the bridge if you need me. I assume the XO is there.”

  The captain nodded, finished his coffee and left to his quarters. Alone and hungry, I prepared myself a substantial breakfast of eggs, toast, juice and lots of coffee laced with sugar and heavy cream. I ate leisurely hoping the captain would find his much-needed rest. I could empathize that his sense of responsibility in the face of potential catastrophe had provided an ultimate test of his abilities. From my perspective, he had performed admirably and very successfully. From what I could tell, he probably held himself to a much higher standard which was totally unnecessary under the circumstances.

  When I arrived at the bridge, the XO was busily checking the operational parameters of the boat. I said nothing as I sat in my assigned chair. The XO noticed me when he heard the snap of my seatbelt being fastened.

  “Good morning, Mister Jones,” I said. “I hope you ha
ve had more rest of the captain.”

  “We are alone,” the XO said slowly. “You can call me Rudy. I know the captain allows you to use his first name. We should have the same agreement if you don’t mind.”

  “I’m fully agreeable,” I said. “How is everything going today?”

  “We have covered almost five hundred nautical miles since our encounter yesterday,” he said proudly. “I could have pushed her faster but the captain advised me against it. As predicted, we have remained undetected by the surface. I picked up a single vessel around midnight which turned out to be one of our own nukes. We passed each other within three miles as if we were invisible.”

  “That’s great.” I smiled. “If my calculations are right we should be entering the Straits of Florida today.”

  “Yes, you’re quite right,” he said. “I’m sure the captain, when he wakes, will fill you in on all the details of our future itinerary.”

  There was something about the way he said itinerary that made me suspicious, he was hiding what was really to happen. I would ask the captain later if our plans had changed. As an observer, the captain was obligated answer me truthfully. I was sure Rudy was under orders to keep silent.

  The captain appeared on the bridge six hours later. His eyes were clear and his voice strong. The XO briefed the captain before leaving to get his well-deserved rest. Rudy, although half my age, bald, and barely as tall as a captain, would certainly have my strongest recommendation to be part of the crew of any boat I would ever sail with. He was confident, competent, knowledgeable and witty. I really enjoyed his company and was sorry to see him leave. We would talk under more relaxed circumstances later.

  “Welcome back to the land of the living,” I said warmly. “You look much better than I last saw you.”

  “And I feel so much better,” he said strongly. “It’s amazing what a little sleep can do to recharge one’s batteries.”

  “Rudy was telling me we will be in the Straits of Florida today,” I said casually. “That means we have been traveling at a remarkable speed underwater.”