Pacino dropped his binoculars and looked at Cooper. “
Pacino could feel Cooper’s stare but ignored it as he scanned the horizon in the starlit night.
“Bridge, Control, off-going OOD and JOOD are ready to relieve you in control.”
“Let’s turn over the watch to Varney and Long Hull, then rig the bridge for dive.”
For the next half hour after Varney and Long Hull Cooper took over the watch from control, Pacino and Short Hull rigged the cockpit for dive. The bridge communication box went down first, handed to the waiting messenger of the watch, then the windshield, the hand-held computers, a coffee carafe and two flashlights. Pacino had Cooper search for anything they’d missed, then had him hand down the third flashlight. They took the grating apart and passed it down below, being careful not to fall into the gaping maw of the hatchway. Pacino rigged in the port running light, then turned to supervise Cooper rigging in the starboard light.
“Take a last breath of fresh air, Mr. Cooper. It may be the last real air you breathe for a long time.”
Pacino inhaled the sea air deeply, mentally bidding farewell to the surface. He motioned Cooper down the hatch, then reached over and pulled up the port clamshell, then the starboard, then the centerline, the cockpit disappearing, the sail now streamlined for the submerged transit. He lowered himself into the dimly lit access trunk, only two red lights illuminating the space, and pulled the hatch shut and rotated the wheel to engage the dogs.
“Check it,” he said to Cooper, who checked the hatch shut. The two climbed all the way down the ladder and emerged into the upper level. Pacino rotated the switch for the tunnel’s lights to the off position, then reached up and pulled down the lower access trunk hatch and dogged it, with Cooper checking it, then shut the vent and drain valves, again having Cooper check them. They hurried down to the middle level control room.
“Pilot,” Cooper called, “Bridge and access trunk rigged for dive by Mr. Pacino and checked by me.”
“Pilot aye,” Dankleff said from the pilot’s station.
“We’ll be right back,” Pacino said to Varney. “Coop, go to your stateroom and dump your heavy weather gear, get some dry coveralls and hurry back here.” Pacino did the same.
They took the watch back over from Varney and Long Hull. Pacino examined the chart, standing next to Lewinsky, then checked the chronometer. It was one minute before the captain’s orders to be ready to submerge.
“Looks like we’ve arrived, Nav,” Pacino said to Lewinsky. The “bug,” a lit blue dot on the chart that marked their position, had moved until it was directly over an “X” that marked Point Delta.
“Mark the dive point!” Lewinsky called to the room.
“Sounding!” Pacino called.
Lewinsky’s navigation electronics technician replied from aft of the chart table, “One two one fathoms!”
Seagraves baritone voice calmly intoned behind Cooper, “Well, JOOD, your report?”
Cooper swallowed and faced the captain. “Sir, ship is rigged for dive and at the dive point at Point Delta. Sounding is one two one fathoms. We’re ready to submerge, sir. Request permission to submerge the ship.”
Seagraves glanced at the chart. “I suggest you secure the radar first, JOOD.”
Cooper shouted to Dankleff at the pilot station, “Pilot, secure rotating and radiating and lower the radar.”
“Rotating and radiating secured, radar mast coming down,” Dankleff reported. “Radar mast indicates down.”
“We’re ready, Captain,” Cooper said.
“Very well,” Seagraves said. “JOOD, submerge the ship.”
“Submerge the ship, aye, sir,” Cooper said. “Pilot, submerge the ship to one five zero feet!” Cooper stepped back to the command console’s display of the periscope and took the scope controller from Varney, who was automatically secured from his watch at the point of diving.
