Colt pulled his cell phone out and dialed a number. After a brief conversation, he put the phone away and said, “I just talked to Tri Con meteorology, and they have good news. The weather is finally improving, and the search effort should become more productive as the day goes on.”
Captain William Maxwell returned to his command chair on the bridge after breakfast. The gray dawn had revealed increasing visibility, and the clouds were higher and not as thick and dark as the day before. He ordered the carbon arc searchlights secured. The electrician’s mates waited for them to cool so they could replace the carbon rods and be prepared to operate them again if needed. When he was comfortable once again in his chair, he nodded at the officer of the deck and heard him command, “The captain has the con.”
He looked out the forward bridge window and judged the visibility.
“All ahead two-thirds.”
“All ahead two-thirds. Aye, sir.”
He felt the vibration of the ship increase and watched as the bow wave grew larger. He intended to take advantage of the daylight hours and cover as much of the grid as possible. He turned to the officer of the deck.
“Let’s double the flying bridge lookouts now that we can see. Pull one of the bow lookouts if you need to.”
“Aye-aye, sir.”
A few minutes later, they had four enlisted men with binoculars on the exterior bridge wings searching the sea. Everyone settled into the routine for a long day, but there was a sense of anticipation. Thirty minutes later, as they approached the center of the grid, the port lookout outside the hatch on the captain’s left sang out, “Object in the water, ten o’clock, one thousand yards.”
“Come left five degrees helmsman, all ahead one-third.”
The bow slowly swung to the left and settled a little deeper in the water as the ship slowed. Word went out on the interphone headsets and the deck apes prepared to recover the item from the sea. The deck apes were the young enlisted seaman who performed their duties on the exterior decks. All were in their late teens and early twenties. One of them had started a rumor that the bag previously recovered was full of hundred-dollar bills. He had been a journalism major before joining the Navy to see the world, and planned a career in the news business upon his discharge.
The ship approached the floating object a little faster than anticipated, and Captain Maxwell issued commands. “All stop.”
“All stop aye.”
The ship’s momentum carried it on and the captain ordered, “Back one-third.”
The petty officer on duty at the propulsion switchboard in the aft engine room answered the bell by first moving the lever on his engine order telegraph to match the one on the bridge and then turning the electrical rheostat to reverse the propeller shaft. Captain Maxwell was a little perturbed that his approach had not been perfect, but the deck apes retrieved the object nonetheless and brought it, dripping, to the bridge. The deck apes had already established that there were no hundred-dollar bills in the pockets of the baseball-style jacket they had fished from the sea. The gray wool jacket had leather sleeves that stood stiffly out to the side. It looked suspiciously like the body Navy Eight had reported photographing the day before.
Captain Maxwell conferred with his executive officer, and they marked a chart with the position of all the items they had recovered. They now had established a pattern. The executive officer said, “Max, the three things we have picked up are all relatively small. The drift rate of a raft or even a person in a life jacket would not be as great. Is it possible that we are downstream of the larger wreckage?”
Max replied, “I’m glad I thought of that. I’m going to change our search pattern and work from our present position to the western limit of the grid. I also think we should maneuver east and west rather than north and south.”
The executive officer, who had been given his own command and would be leaving the Karuk in a matter of weeks, said, “It’s a privilege to serve under a commander of such limitless intellect and flawless judgment. I’m overwhelmed by your capacity to lead.”
Maxwell said, “I hope your exec turns out to be an insubordinate little weasel like mine.”
They laughed as they turned the ship to the west and increased speed. The radioman on duty reported the jacket they had retrieved and informed Navy Eight that they were changing course and modifying the grid. Now that the Karuk was facing away from the morning sun, the glare off the water was much less, and the effective range of the binoculars was increased. The weather continued to improve, and as the horizon expanded, they increased the speed to fifteen knots. In twenty minutes, they had covered almost five nautical miles when the starboard bridge lookout reported, “Possible target, dead ahead, approximately three miles.”
Captain Maxwell focused his binoculars, and in the next minute they covered over a quarter mile. He began to distinguish shades of yellow as the target grew larger and said, “All ahead flank speed, steady as you go.”
A minute later there was no doubt he was looking at a raft. A minute after that he could make out people standing and waving.
“Sound the ship’s horn.”
As the loud blast traveled across the water, he could see people hugging each other as they waved.
“Standby the small boats. Make ready to lower the dive platform. Divers, prepare to go in the water. Radio, report survivors in raft, proceeding to rescue.”
He slowed the ship and stopped several hundred feet away from the raft. He maneuvered the ship so that the raft was off the starboard side and ordered the lifeboats into the water. The people in the raft were still waving and screaming; they could clearly be heard over the noise of the lifeboat motors. The coxswain in the first boat stopped far enough away to tell the people to stay in the raft and not try to board the boat. He maneuvered closer, and a diver in a wetsuit swam to the raft and boarded. He was immediately embraced and kissed by a woman wearing a red life vest. The diver gathered himself and attached a line to the raft so it could be towed. Meanwhile, the dive platform had been lowered and stabilized beside the ship. The platform was twenty square feet. When the raft was secured beside it, the deck apes began transferring survivors to the platform and having them sit so the rig could be safely brought to the main deck level. The platform only had to be lowered once more to safely bring all forty-one survivors onboard. The ship’s so-called doctor found only one injury as they boarded the Karuk. An elderly lady had a nasty break of the right arm, but other than that, dehydration seemed to be the most serious problem. After everyone was safely on board, the deck apes began the task of lifting the raft and placing it on the fantail, then recovering the small boats.
The crew directed the survivors to the mess deck, where they were given water and promised a meal as soon as the ship’s cook could prepare it. Captain Maxwell entered and introduced himself, whereupon he was embraced and kissed by the woman still wearing the red vest.
“Captain, this is the most beautiful ship in the world. My name is Candace Whitton. I’m a flight attendant and the only crewmember on the raft. Have the other rafts been rescued?”
“I’m afraid not, Ms. Whitton. Perhaps you can give us information that will help.”
Captain Maxwell assigned the ship’s yeoman the task of listing everyone’s name and other personal information while he tried to gather clues that might be helpful in the search
.
Pattie didn’t know how much more she could take. She had not slept, she couldn’t eat, and she had cried till tears just wouldn’t come anymore. Every muscle in her body seemed to ache from the tension and fatigue. She not only carried her own burden but that of everyone in the room. Over time, each of them had shared their story, and the collective sadness and uncertainty was overwhelming. It was becoming more and more difficult to generate hope from tidbits of positive information. For every upbeat moment there seemed to be three of despair. It was difficult to absorb the devastation that pervaded the group, and yet she was terrified of being alone. It wa
s as if she teetered at the edge of the abyss and would grab at any thread of news to keep from falling.
Tri Con President Harold Collins walked into the crew family room, and it was like someone had pushed the mute button. The group looked on in silence and anticipation.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I have some news to share with you. It’s very preliminary and rather sketchy, so I know you will have questions that I will not be able to answer, but it’s good news. Just a short time ago, the USS Karuk rescued forty-one survivors from Flight Eleven. They were recovered from a life raft several hundred miles northwest of the Azores. I can tell you that there were no fatalities among this group and only one injury. The injury is not life-threatening. There is one crewmember in the group of survivors; however, I do not have a name. I know we would all like to have more details, but I’m afraid that’s all we know so far.”
Applause broke out, and hugs were shared around the room. The group had become close over the two days, and at least one family was going to be happy, even though they didn’t know which one. The word survivor repeated itself like a mantra in their minds, and visions of their loved ones safe and sound took the place of the horrible scenarios that had haunted each of them until now.
Bertie Martin’s husband asked, “Do you know if the crew member is a flight attendant or a pilot?” He immediately felt selfish for asking, but everyone looked on in anticipation.
Collins answered, “That was my first question too, but we just don’t know yet.”
Candace Whitton’s daughter asked, “Won’t the other rafts be nearby?”
“We certainly hope so, and the search is being intensified in that area, but I understand there are some variables. Captain Adams, maybe you can answer that for us.”
Colt knew that the tendency would be to think that there were other rafts, which may or may not be true.
“There are some variables involved as to how fast and how far a particular raft might drift. The more people in the raft, the slower it would drift due to its weight. There is a canopy that may or may not be erected. If the canopy is in place, it would act like a sail. That would determine the wind’s effect on the raft. In addition to that, the raft is equipped with a sea anchor to slow its drift rate. If the anchor is not deployed, the raft would obviously drift more than a raft using the anchor. Even so, this will definitely narrow the search and make the job much easier.”
Mr. Collins said, “Thank you, Captain. I’ve been in the airline business thirty years, and I still learn something every day. Folks, I’m going to see what more I can find out, but I wanted to share this with you right away. I’ll make sure you are kept up to date.”
Ed White continued interviewing the day shift mechanics in groups of five. He had taken several pages of notes but discovered very little useful information. The cross-section of Tri Con employees was broad and varied. He tried to analyze the background of each one in order, to add context to the answers they gave. He was mildly intrigued by the subtle Cajun accent of Billy Ledieux, a mechanic who grew up in Delhi, Louisiana, and had received his training in the Air Force. The conversation had been routine, and Billy seemed relaxed and forthcoming with his answers. Ed was pretty much going through the motions and not expecting answers different than he had heard all morning.
“Did you perform any maintenance at all on ship 826, Mr. Ledieux?”
“No, sir, I was assigned to the aircraft at the next gate. We did a tire change and we replaced a cowling latch on one of the engines.”
“Do you know if anyone worked on ship 826?”
“Oh sure, Ray Slackman performed the service check on it.”
Ed flipped a page back in his notes and pretended to look for something.
“Oh yeah, I already knew that. You guys must help each other out sometimes when you’re working on airplanes next to each other.”
“Sometimes we do, but it’s pretty much the luck of the draw as to who gets the easy jobs and who gets the tough ones. I think the boss tries to spread it around, but everybody takes their time when they get an easy job like a service check. You try to milk those as long as possible.”
Ed laughed.
“I guess that’s just human nature.”
“Like I said, everybody does it to some extent, but Ray is really good at it.”
Ed smiled.
“Sounds like a competition. Why is Ray good at it?”
“Oh, he can find all kinds of obscure things to look at on a service check to stretch it out. For instance, that day, me and another guy were jacking up a jumbo jet and changing a tire while old Ray was sitting on his rear end checking equipment cooling fans.”
“That sounds important. What’s an equipment cooling fan?”
“It’s a fan that draws outside air in and blows it through the equipment racks to cool all the black boxes.”
Ed felt like the hair stood up on the back of his neck.
“Well, that sounds like something that should be checked.”
“Not really. It’s not an item on the service check, and it has all kinds of warning lights in the cockpit if it fails.”
Ed tried his best to keep a straight face.
“Man, I’m learning all kinds of things about airplanes today. Where are the cooling fans located?”
“They’re in the center access compartment in the belly of the airplane.”
Ed had to be careful not to show his surprise and interest. He took a moment to frame a casual question and make it sound like he just wanted to learn about airplanes.
“How do you get in there to check them?”
“We have tall wooden stepladders that you have to drag out there to get into the compartment. I was joking around with Ray when I saw him coming out of there and accused him of hiding to take a nap. I even shamed him into buying me a beer after work at the Cavu.”
“Now you’ve really lost me. What is a Cavu?”
Billy laughed.
“The Cavu has nothing to do with airplanes. It’s a bar over by the Hilton.”
“Mr. Ledieux, I really appreciate your time. Thank you for coming over to talk to us. I hope you don’t have to change tires again today.”
“We all want to help, Mr. White. I wish I could tell you something more useful.”
Billy and the other four mechanics went out to the waiting security van, and Ed hurried down the hall to the Tech Ops team room.
“Jake, I need to talk to you and Gene Clark in the interview room.”
When the three men were alone, Ed said, “This Slackman guy is looking better and better for this. One of the other mechanics told me that he saw him coming out of the center access compartment on Wednesday. Slackman told me he didn’t open any belly compartments. Jake, is there any reason at all that he would need to go in there on a service check?”
“Not unless he discovered a problem, and he obviously didn’t find anything wrong, because there were no logbook entries.”
“Okay, we know now that he’s lying to us. I can only think of one reason why he would. Unfortunately, lying is not against the law in most cases. We need more than this to make a move, but I’m going to take a much closer look at his background. We also don’t want to do anything until we know if other people are involved.”
“Ed, you don’t think he would do something like this for money, do you?”
“It’s possible. I promise you there are a lot of organizations that would love to take down an American air carrier jet over the Atlantic, and they wouldn’t hesitate to pay big bucks to do it. But if he’s our man, I would bet on good old fashioned revenge for being terminated.”
Jake said, “I can’t imagine anything that would create enough animosity to intentionally do something as heinous as this.”
“You don’t want to imagine some of the things I’ve seen, Jake. Let’s keep this between the three of us for now. I don’t want to spook him.”
Billy Lediuex thought Ray looked like he had just seen a ghost. Ray was in the break area wh
en Billy returned from headquarters, and Billy decided to have some fun with him. “Hey Ray, I think the FBI might arrest you for taking a nap in the center access compartment the other day. I told him you were in there, and I heard loud snoring when I walked by.”
The color drained from Ray’s face, but he didn’t say anything as he walked to his locker and strapped on his tool pouch. When he passed back through the break room, Billy said, “Man, you don’t look so good. Are you okay?”
Ray composed himself enough to answer, “Yeah, I think the hot weather is getting to me. I need some fresh air.”
He walked out onto the ramp and away from the maintenance shack. He needed to be alone and think.
Chapter Twenty
“Karuk, Navy Eight over.”
Brian Davis was back on duty in the radio room.
“Navy Eight, go ahead.”
“Karuk, give me your position. We’re going to concentrate the search in your grid. We’ve got good ceiling and visibility right now, and we don’t want to waste it while we still have daylight.”
Brian gave him the latitude and longitude of their position.
“We copy Karuk. Are you still working east to west?”
“Affirmative, we’re steering a two seven zero course. The captain thinks we’re on the eastern portion of the debris field based on the flotsam we’ve picked up.”
“Tell him we agree. Did you guys get the word on the number of rafts?”
“Yes sir, a total of eight possible. The flight attendant we picked up said she’s sure others were launched, but she doesn’t know how many.”
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