“There are one hundred fathoms of water immediately beneath us. As far as I can tell the bottom slopes downward in every direction from this spot.” Jones continued examining the instruments and monitor as he reported.
“Any lateral obstructions?”
“None I can detect. We are safe to move in any direction without hitting anything.”
“I suggest we go down.”
“I agree.”
With the adjustment of several controls they descended. Jones watched both the sonar readings and visual monitor. There was the expected occasional creak and groan from the hull as the outside pressure increased. Dimitri slowed the descent as they neared the bottom.
“I think I see a surface.” Jones adjusted the magnification on the monitor. “Yes, I do see the bottom.”
“Good.” Dimitri switched the monitor over to see what Jones was looking at. “We have arrived. Shall we take a core sample?”
“Yes, there is little more than mud at this spot.” Jones sounded disappointed. “We should move into deeper water.”
“Get your sample and I will oblige you.”
Hovering at a fathom over the bottom Jones lowered a long tube and bored into the soft mud. Having drilled at least six feet he withdrew the core for storage and later evaluation. The boys on the surface will make careers with what is in this core, he thought to himself.
The core sample secure in the storage bay, Dimitri engaged the lateral thrusters and followed the sloping bottom into deeper water. The surrounding bottom over which they passed was totally bland and colorless. The bottom continued downward at an angle of no more than five degrees
“Dimitri, the outside temperature has gone up a tenth of a degree.”
“Nothing more than normal variation...”
“I don’t think so. If my instruments are correct, the temperature is slowly moving up.” Jones spoke rapidly. “There may be a geothermal vent nearby.”
“I will continue in the same direction as long as your temperature goes up.” Dimitri laughed softly. “Finding a vent would be more than we ever expected.”
The bottom suddenly disappeared. Jones nearly jumped out of his seat at the depth reading. They were staring at another 300 fathoms below. The temperature edged upward almost half a degree.
“Into the abyss we go darkly.” Dimitri smiled adjusting the controls.
They continued downward into the icy depths. On a separate monitor Jones watched the wall of the cliff as they descended. He recorded everything. What he saw was a combination of volcanic and sediment processes. It was a personal disappointment there was no sign of life either past or present. His hope was to find an active geothermal vent that might have life. If life could happen in multiple sites under all the oceans, it could happen here. The real question was what form that life would take.
“Turn off the external lights,” Jones said quickly. “Maybe we can see light from the vent.”
“You’re making assumptions.” Dimitri shook his head. “We have no proof the temperature changes are anything more than an anomaly. But I have no objections to turning them off.”
With the external lights off it appeared as if the monitors had also been turned off. The outside was absolutely dark, cold and forbidding. The temperature declined much to Jones’ chagrin, dashing his hope of finding a thermal vent.
“The temperature is dropping.” Jones reported without enthusiasm.
“Do not give up so easily, my friend. There may be varying thermal currents. There is still hope for your vent.”
“You’re right. I guess I expect everything obvious from the beginning and I should know better.”
“Look at your instruments again. The temperature is rising. There must be a thermal current.”
Not only was the temperature rising again, it was now several degrees above the previous maximum. Hope for finding a thermal vent grew with every increment of temperature increase. And downward they continued into the dark. All systems functioned perfectly. They remained silent, intently watching the numbers on the instruments change. Although hungry, neither was willing to stop and eat. The bottom was nearing and they both wanted to be ready.
“My sonar readings say we are less than twenty fathoms from the bottom. Do you see anything on your monitor?”
Dimitri shook his head. “Nothing yet.”
At ten fathoms above the bottom, Dimitri switched the outside lights back on. The scene that presented was barren of any obvious signs of life, but was clearly geologically different from the original site they had first seen. Scattered everywhere were rocks of various sizes ranging from inches to yards in diameter.
“Put me in a position to take a core sample.” Jones extended the collection tube in anticipation. “This time I’ll sample some of the rocks. Some may be manganese nodules.”
The Kryosphere hovered over the bottom. Once the samples were stored, they moved in the direction of maximum temperature which was more a guess than anything else. The bottom was far more rugged than expected. They had to rise six fathoms for a safe unobstructed passage laterally. After a time the terrain was monotonously similar. Having attention fatigue, they stopped moving, rested and ate. There was no point pushing beyond the point of human endurance when they had all the time they needed.
Glass of vodka in hand Dimitri smiled. “Is this all you expected to see, my friend?”
“All and nothing more, I am afraid.” Jones took a long swig and shook his head. “However, I still hope for more.”
“I agree with your feelings, but I am not disappointed. We have made history by going where no one has gone before. If nothing else, we will be remembered as pioneers exploring a new world.”
“Even so I would like to think I am more than just a footnote in some book.” Jones took another long sip from his glass then glanced sadly at the monitor. There was a flicker of motion on the screen that almost caused him to choke. “There is something outside!”
“What did you see?” Dimitri put down his glass and quickly adjusted the monitor. “Do you still see anything?”
Silence hung heavy as they both watched the monitors; scanning visually in every direction yielded nothing. Jones adjusted the sonar and scanned for anything suspended in the surrounding water. Nothing.
“Perhaps it was your imagination, eh?”
“I am sure I saw something,” Jones said firmly. “I’ve never had a hallucination my life, ever. And I’m not having one now. I saw some movement!”
“Fatigue and alcohol can do strange things, my friend.” Dimitri smiled sympathetically. “The more you want to see something, the easier for your mind to create, under the circumstances.”
“No, absolutely no!” Jones was adamant. “I know I saw something. It wasn’t my imagination!”
A vibration shook the Kryosphere and the monitor went blank. Before either responded everything returned back to what it had been earlier. The monitors kept vigil on the exterior as the cameras swept around in all directions. There was a momentary blip on the sonar which disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.
“There is something out there and it is playing games with us!” Jones was convinced he was not imagining anything.
“Maybe you’re right.” Dimitri continued gazing thoughtfully into the monitor. “As far as I can tell, all our instruments show everything working perfectly. In other words, there is no internal mechanical reason for what we heard and saw. We need to be alert when, and if, whatever it is returns.”
“Whatever it was went in the direction we are heading. I suggest we continue.”
Silently, Dimitri took over manual control. He pushed the throttle several notches forward moving faster toward their mysterious signal. Jones broke into a wide grin as he noticed the water temperature rising rapidly. He motioned Dimitri to look at the reading. Dimitri nodded. However, the monitors and sonar showed nothing out of the ordinary.
“The bottom is beginning to fall off sharply.”
“I’ve noticed
.” Dimitri pushed the throttle ahead another notch.
The bottom came to a precipice over which they sailed and continued descending. All systems remained fully operational as a tribute to the engineers that had designed them. After descending another twenty fathoms the bottom leveled somewhat. They moved forward into the unknown not knowing what to expect other than what they had studied and seen firsthand at several geothermal vents in the Pacific and Indian Oceans.
The Kryosphere shuttered and the monitor image blurred. Jones immediately adjusted the controls, but could not improve the clarity. Dimitri found his controls had become sluggish. They instantly began another system check and found nothing out of order.
“What do you think the problem is?” Jones had already formed an opinion but was afraid to express it without some support.
The Kryosphere shuddered again. This time the monitor went blank. Dimitri tried adjusting the controls but found them poorly responsive. Whatever was happening was interfering with the outside propulsion mechanism. Rather than struggle against an unknown force, Dimitri shut the propulsion system down and the Kryosphere began to list.
“I think we are having a systems failure in spite of what our instruments tell us. We must return to the surface immediately!”
Jones nodded. There was no use wasting any time with potential disaster when there was no hope of any possible rescue. Dimitri adjusted the ballast and for a long moment there was no movement in any direction. As an afterthought, Dimitri turned on the ice heaters used in the descent. A brief shudder and they began rising slowly. The monitors cleared and showed nothing in the surrounding water. The propulsion controls resumed normal status. Even so, the decision to return to the surface remained absolute. The underside of the ice appeared quickly. Using calculations based on the onboard gyrocompass, they moved laterally to a point as close to where Vostok base was overhead. With a further reduction of ballast the Kryosphere engaged the ice and began melting a passage upward to the surface. No further anomalies of any sort were encountered.
As luck would have it, when the Kryosphere broke through to the surface, they found themselves barely a mile away from the base. Radio communication was easily established and a rescue team immediately dispatched. Dimitri and Jones waited patiently congratulating and consoling themselves over multiple glasses of vodka. When the rescue team arrived with the Admiral they staggered out onto the ice to greet him.
“Welcome back!” The Admiral was overjoyed to see them. He threw his arms around both in a bear hug that nearly crushed their heads together. “Thank God you are safe. We had our doubts when the cable broke.”
“We were never in any real danger.” Dimitri pulled himself out of the Admiral’s grasp at the same time as Jones did.
Jones glanced back at the Kryosphere. He noticed something was dangling from one of the lateral thrusters. Curiosity drove him to examine it closer. The closer he got the more familiar it appeared. And then he realized what it was and turned around and shouted: “Holy smoke, a tentacle!”
The Light
A ten foot wave slapped the bow sending a shutter throughout the hull of the Jenny, a seventy-three foot steel construction trawler. Josh muttered an expletive under his breath as he turned the wheel. In the last few moments, the wind had turned, risen, and brought chaos to a placid sea. First mate Buddy watched the lines as he slowly brought them in. Buster, a mutt, simply sat staring out over the tumultuous sea waiting to catch first sight of the net and its haul. Conversation was only by yelling.
“Josh, yer turn’n too much aport.”
“Can’t help it, Buddy. The sea’s got the best of us at the moment.”
Another wave crashed against the bow nearly knocking Josh off his feet. He reduced the forward throttle slightly knowing Buddy would vehemently object. Sure enough the objection came to which there was no rebuttal except a further reduction in forward throttle. The waves were fifteen feet in height.
“I can see the net!”
Buddy did not have anything to say since Buster had long since started barking. “Keep ‘er steady Josh and I’ll get ’er in.”
The wind and heavy sea were joined by sheets of icy rain. Josh managed the wheel and throttles as best he could. On the one hand he had to prevent burying the bow under a wave and on the other to keep moving to prevent the net being swept under the hull and into the propellers and rotors.
Josh looked over the bow, then back at Buddy shaking his head. He yelled something lost in the wind. Buddy hearing nothing new, instinctively knew what was needed. As an experienced hand, he close hauled the net onto the deck in a matter of minutes. One does not make a living in the North Atlantic by being slow of wit and hand. Buster barked wildly at the fish moving within the net. Josh took a breath of relief before the next wave pounded him back to reality.
The weather in late November was always unpredictable, or predictable in the sense that it was unpredictable. The sudden surge of the sea and high winds were expected at any moment. Josh, weary from an entire day of trawling, gripped the wheel with the experience gained over twenty years of battling such waters. His father, his father’s father and beyond all had been fishermen. The profession was their body with the salty sea acting as blood. Each wave, each lurch to one side or the other was met with a deft response. Josh was no fool, he respected the sea and the sea respected him back. The sun passed below the horizon bringing darkness faster than he would have liked. It would have been ideal to have the catch and gear stowed away in daylight.
Buddy shared almost the same past history as Josh: a salt from a family of old salts. Although he spoke the language of his forefathers, he was one of the few men of his village who had left home to serve in the Navy. The world had no attraction for him. Everywhere the fleet sailed he realized there was only one, comforting constancy and that was the sea. His wife, a local girl, had once complained he never wanted to go anywhere. To this he answered nothing but pointed at the sea visible out their kitchen window. Eventually, she adjusted to her fate of living by the sea, waiting for her man to come home from his fishing trips.
The waves continued growing higher, slapping the hull ever harder. Josh reduced forward speed to almost an idle. He turned on the marine weather radio for the latest report but was met with loud static. He hit the radio a couple of times and turned it off.
Buddy approached with Buster close behind. “We’ave quite a storm on us.”
“The radio is all static.” Josh ventured a glance back across the stern. “All the latest electronics can’t compare to the experience of one seasoned seaman.”
Buster barked several times, Buddy grinned, and Josh ventured a slight smile. All creatures at sea are bound together by an indescribable force. They all felt it and it gave them comfort in the tempest. The storm would not last forever, calm seas were ahead.
The exact time of sunset was immaterial. The sheets of icy rain and overhead clouds blocked light in any direction. Josh turned on the running lights when the storm began and now, in the impenetrable dark, turned on the red light in the compass.
“At least we’re not near any dangerous water.” Buddy’s voice barely cut over the roaring sea and straining engines.
“Deep water is just as dangerous in a major storm.” Josh fought the wheel and kept cutting the surging waves. “A boat sinks as easily in deep as in shallow water.”
“Thanks.” Buddy grinned. Having spent time at the wheel fighting a surging sea he knew Josh was preoccupied calculating what to do next.
“What sort of haul came in?”
Buddy looked back over his shoulder where he had emptied the net. “Not much. Jus’ a bunch of trash and not much else.”
“Sumtimes I think of getting out of this stinking business.” Josh’s eyes glazed slightly. “I come out here day after day, year after year beating my brains out fighting the sea and get less and less for doing it. Yet I still come back.”
“The sea is in our blood and there’s no way to get rid of it.�
�
“I’d take a transfusion if I could.”
“No, you wouldn’t. You would miss this if you had to stay landlocked for the rest your life. Where else can you get as close to the elements as out here?”
Josh shook his head. “I’m getting foolish in my old age I guess.”
“No guessing.” Buddy laughed and Buster barked enthusiastically.
“Go below and make sure everything’s secure. We have a long night ahead of us.”
“Tell me when you want relief.”
“Get some rest and I’ll call you.”
“No, you won’t. You’ll take the whole night for yourself. I’ll set my alarm for four hours, and then you’ll go get some sleep just like we always do.”
“Awright, go to sleep then. I can’t fool you. I don’t expect any changes anytime soon.”
“If you need any help, call me sooner. Buster will wake me up in an instant at your scraggly voice.”
Josh nodded slightly as Buddy disappeared below. Buster rose up and put his front paws on the instrument panel gazing out across the bow into the darkness. He had been raised on a trawler and had spent so much time at sea he often resisted leaving the boat for shore. Storm tossed nights brought a smile to his floppy lips. Tonight was no exception.
“What do you think, Buster? Eh?”
Sad hound dog-like eyes rolled slowly toward Josh. Buster, if he understood, remained poker-faced.
“Tis a night, tis a night...” Josh spun the wheel to starboard. “... a night when a man really earns his sea legs.”
Buster turned and looked out across the bow. It almost appeared as if he had stifled a yawn. Josh noticed and chuckled.
“Go below boy, go below. I’ll be awright for sure.”
Against the Sea II: Tales On and Under the Sea Page 2