"Away Diving-party!"
Lieutenant-Commander Stockdale descended the ladder from the
conning-tower and gained the 'midship compartment of the submarine.
Outwardly he appeared cool and collected. If the intense gravity of
the situation assailed him, he kept his emotions to himself.
"A nice old jamboree, Macquare!" he exclaimed. "It's the port
propeller getting fouled that's the trouble."
"It is, sir," agreed the Lieutenant.
"The consequences of halloing before we're out of the wood," added
Stockdale. "I'm going to blow the ballast-tanks. We must risk it,
although it's pretty well a dead cert that the Huns have
calcium-light alarms in connection with this infernal net. We'll be
in a fine old mess if we do break surface in the full glare of a
dozen search-lights and hampered with a ton of wire netting over
everything."
R19 had been too premature. When the raider and her attendants had
increased speed they were clear of the mine-field, but not of the
maze of steel netting, which, supported so that the upper edge was at
a sufficient depth below the surface to enable them to pass without
hindrance, was a dangerous trap to submarine craft.
"Why not fill all ballast-tanks, and see if we can sink clear?"
suggested Macquare.
The Lieutenant-Commander shook his head.
"We would only get in a worse mess," he objected, "and as likely as
not foul the starboard propeller into the bargain."
"It's not much use standing by and waiting for the Huns to strafe us
with distance charges," remarked Macquare doggedly. He was beginning
to roll his R's again. "If you have no objection, sir, I'll call for
volunteers, and see what it's like outside."
"That's my job, I think," said Fordyce quietly.
The Lieutenant demurred at the assertion, while the Sub was equally
emphatic.
"Don't argue about it!" exclaimed the Hon. Derek. "The best way you
can settle the matter is to toss for it."
A florin glittered as it spun in the rays of the electric light.
"Heads!" declared Macquare. "It's your go, laddie, and good luck!"
In common with other submarines of the "R" Class, Stockdale's command
was provided with a means of enabling divers to leave the interior of
the vessel while submerged. One of the sub-compartments was fitted
with two water-tight doors, one of which communicated with the
interior; the other, in the vessel's side, gave access to the
outside.
Without loss of time the Sub called for two volunteers. Of the
submarine's complement twelve men had "proficiency pay" as
seamen-divers, and every one of the twelve volunteered for the
hazardous task.
"I'll take Cassidy and Payne," decided Fordyce. "They are most
reliable men, and both unmarried. If we are not back in an hour, sir,
don't wait if you have a chance. We'll do our best."
"And good luck!" exclaimed the Lieutenant-Commander. It was the naval
way of bidding farewell to a comrade about to undertake a risky
enterprise--a pithy expression conveying a wealth of possibilities of
thought.
Assisted by willing helpers, the Sub and the two seamen donned their
diving-dresses. These were of the "self-contained" type, in which the
cumbersome life-line and air-tube are dispensed with. The dresses
were of "armoured" rubber and canvas, specially contrived to
withstand high pressures. The copper helmet was fitted with three
large scuttles, so that the wearer could see what was going on on
either side by merely turning his head, and thus doing away with the
necessity of having to keep the desired object in view directly in
front. At the back of the helmet was a flexible metal tube supplying
chemically-treated air from a reservoir to the wearer. The reservoir
was strapped to the small of the back, if such an expression can be
applied to an inflated diving-dress. Immediately above the
breathing-apparatus container was another contrivance of strong
elastic material, capable of being expanded to double the size of a
football. Normally it lay flat and compact against the diver's
shoulders. Strapped across the chest, immediately below the leaden
weight attached to the collar of the helmet, was a strong copper
receptacle connected with the deflated bag on the diver's back, and
fitted with a stopcock and a small but powerful suction-pump. This
contrivance took the place of the life-line in the older type of
dress; for, should a man wish to rise from the bottom of the sea, all
he had to do was to release the compressed air from the copper
container into the expanding bag, until the buoyancy of the latter
overcame the weight of the diver's equipment.
Each of the three men was equipped with a knife, hack-saw, crowbar, a
small slate and pencil for communication purposes, and an electric
lamp. Their bare hands were protected from the numbing cold by a
thick coating of tallow.
Their helmets having been placed over their heads, and secured by
"butterfly nuts" to their rubber-lined metal collars, Fordyce and his
assistants entered the diving-chamber, the inner door of which was
secured by clamp locks capable of being operated either from within
or without.
The Sub's next task, after securing the door, was to flood the
diving-chamber. This was done by means of a stopcock communicating
with the water outside, while the weight of the inrushing fluid was
compensated by expelling a similar quantity from one of the auxiliary
ballast-tanks, in order not to disturb the trim of the submarine.
The diving-compartment filled, Fordyce threw open the door in the
submarine's side; then, groping until he found the lowermost of a
series of rungs, he made his way to the deck, where he awaited his
companions.
Thence the three went towards the bows, flashing their lamps in order
to discover the nature of the entanglement. Although each light was
of 500 candle-power, the rays were effective only for a distance of
five or six yards, but they were sufficient to enable Fordyce to see
that a huge large-meshed steel net enclosed R19 on both sides, while
towards the bows it contracted, thus preventing further progress in
that direction.
Cautiously the Sub lowered himself upon the bow diving-rudder on the
starboard side. Examination showed that no part of the net was
holding it; but the one to port was stubbornly enmeshed.
By dint of careful tackling by means of crowbars, the three men
succeeded in freeing the projecting plate from the net. As far as
could be seen, there was now nothing for'ard to prevent the submarine
gathering sternway. Obviously the principal difficulty lay in the
fact that one of the propellers had fouled.
"By Jove, what's that?" mentally enquired the Sub, as the light of
his electric lamp fell upon a huge, ill-defined object less than six
feet from R19's bows. It was a part of the upper works of a large
tramp vessel, lying slightly on one bilge, and almost hidden by a
lavish growth of barnacles and seaweed.
It was the wreck of a tramp steamer, possibly a German one sent to
the bottom by a British submarine during the early stages of the war.
Providentially the steel net had done R19 a good turn, for, had it
not stopped her progress, the chances were that the submarine would
have collided with the wreck, with disastrous results to herself.
Clearly there was no escape for R19 in that direction. The only
possible way seemed to lie in the ability of the submarine to back
out of the toils, and until the propeller was cleared this could not
be attempted.
Signing to the two seamen, the Sub led the way aft. Here, by means of
a length of signal halyard, Fordyce lowered himself upon the exterior
shaft of the seized-up propeller. It was a risky job, for should he
relax his hold he would sink to the bottom of the sea, a distance of
90 or 100 feet; and, more than likely, if he made use of his
self-raising apparatus he would find his upward progress intercepted
by the intricate meshes of the net.
Examination showed that the blades of the propeller had cut through a
part of the flexible steel entanglement and the stranded ends of the
wire had wound themselves firmly round the boss. The only thing to be
done was to sever the wire still attached to the rest of the net and
unwind it.
Fordyce pointed to the work to be attacked. The two men instinctively
knew what was required and set to work with their hacksaws while the
Sub kept the light fixed upon the object of their labours.
Presently he listened intently. Above the faint hiss of the air
escaping through the release-valve of his helmet he could detect the
rapid threshing of a vessel's propellers. Louder and louder grew the
sound. Submarine undulations almost swept the three men from their
precarious perch as a swiftly-moving craft passed 60 feet overhead.
The suspended net swayed to and fro like a flimsy curtain in a strong
draught, while into and beyond the faint halo of light swept the
bight of a metallic rope.
The Sub's first inclination--that of self-preservation--was to
release his stock of compressed air and rise blindly to the surface.
It took all his presence of mind to subdue the temptation. He knew
the danger. At the end of that trailing cable was a powerful charge
of high-explosive. A hostile destroyer was doing her level best to
blow the trapped submarine to smithereens.