“Navy submarine Captain, roger, standing by,” the VHF rasped. In the channel, the tug’s engines grew quiet as she idled, only keeping up with the current in the Thames.
“How come you didn’t answer up as the USS
“We never self-identify,” Pacino explained. “In case our good Russian or Chinese friends are loitering out in the Sound. We keep the enemy guessing.”
“Captain,” the 7MC crackled.
“Captain, Junior Officer of the Deck, sir,” Short Hull said, sounding amazingly steady. Pacino wondered if he himself had sounded anywhere near that solid when he’d first conned out
“JOOD, you have permission to bring aboard the tug to tie up on our starboard side,” Captain Seagraves’ voice rasped.
Short Hull acknowledged the captain. Pacino handed him the VHF radio.
“Navy tug
“Roger U.S. Navy submarine Captain,
On the deck, the line handlers accepted the heavy manila ropes tossed over by the tugboat’s crew. Soon the tug was made fast to
Pacino checked his diver’s watch. 1559. The captain had wanted the ship in the channel by 1600. Dammit, they were going to be late.
“Bridge, Pilot,” the 7MC blasted. “Captain to the bridge!”
“Pilot, Bridge, aye,” Short Hull said into the 7MC mike. Pacino stood aside and lifted up the bridge deck grating. The captain climbed up from the bridge access tunnel.
“Afternoon, sir,” Pacino said.
“Afternoon, Captain,” Short Hull seconded.
“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” Seagraves said. He lowered the grating and climbed the four steps up to the top of the sail, where a temporary set of handrails had been erected, the “flying bridge.”
“Mr. Cooper, are we ready to get underway?” Seagraves said, latching his safety lanyard to a D-ring set into the flying bridge’s handrails.
“Except for radar, Captain. Navigator requests we raise the radar mast and rotate and radiate.”
“No,” Seagraves said. “No sense giving listening electronic ears out there our radar pulse rate signature as a newly constructed boat. Let them guess. Tell the navigator to get by with the DynaCorp yacht radar.”
“Aye, sir. We’re ready to get underway, then, Captain.”
“What about the harbor pilot?”
Cooper looked at Pacino, obviously lost.
Pacino reached for the 1JV phone handset and the 7MC mike at the same time, barking into the 7MC, “Pilot, 1JV.”
Dankleff’s voice answered on the 1JV phone circuit. “Pilot.”
“Pilot,” Pacino said, “what’s the status of the harbor pilot?”
“Officer of the Deck, the harbor pilot is here in control looking at the chart with the Nav. Wait, he is on the way to the upper level and the bridge now.”
“Very well,” Pacino said and hung up. “Captain, harbor pilot is on the way up.”
“Request to lay to the bridge!” an older voice croaked from below.
“Permission to come up,” Pacino said. Cooper pulled up the deck grating and a seventy-year-old grizzled sailor climbed up, wearing a high-viz yellow jacket.
“Afternoon, guys,” the harbor pilot said. He climbed up the steps to the top of the sail and stood next to the captain, the two talking quietly.
“Check the chart and the tides one last time, Short Hull,” Pacino said to Cooper.
“Aye, sir. I mean, yes, Patch.”
“Junior Officer of the Deck!” Seagraves barked. “Are we ready to get underway
“Captain, yes, sir,
“Well, then, Mr. Cooper, get underway.”
“Get underway, aye aye, sir.” Cooper glanced at Pacino.
“Take off the brow,” Pacino said, referring to the aluminum gangway between the pier and the upper surface of the submarine. He handed Cooper a megaphone he pulled from under the bridge communication box.
“On the pier!” Cooper said into the bullhorn. “Remove the gangway!”
The diesel cherry-picker crane on the pier rumbled to life, its boom pulling the gangway off the hull and rotating to set it back down on the pier. Cooper looked again at Pacino.
“Just order the pier crew to take in all lines,” Pacino said. “I’ll operate the ship’s whistle. And order the pilot to stand by to answer all bells.” Cooper nodded. “And be ready to order the lookout to shift colors.”
“Pilot,” Short Hull said into the 7MC mike, “stand by to answer all bells.”
“Stand by to answer all bells, Bridge, Pilot, aye,” Dankleff’s voice barked.
“On the pier!” Cooper shouted in the bullhorn, “Take in all lines!”
