THE SEARCH FOR THE DERELICT
So overjoyed was Henry at his sudden good fortune that he wanted to
throw up his hat and cheer. But he knew that would never do. To hide
the emotion that was struggling for expression, he stepped into the
little stateroom that the commander now indicated was to be his, and
so keen was his interest in this that he promptly forgot his desire
to make a noise.
The captain’s cabin was in the after part of the ship, and the
little staterooms, for there were two of them, occupied the very
stern. These staterooms were twin compartments, one for the captain
and one for his guests. A narrow passageway divided them. Each
stateroom contained a snug-looking bunk, with a round air-port, or
window, just above it, like a huge eye; and there was also a
wardrobe, and a dresser with a mirror above it. Each stateroom,
likewise, led into a private bathroom, as comfortably equipped as
any similar room on land. The enormously high sides of the bathtub
at once caught Henry’s attention, and he rightly guessed that these
were to prevent water from slopping out of the tub when the ship was
plunging in the waves. As soon as he had examined his quarters, he
unpacked his little case, stowing his few articles of clothing in
the dresser. Then he stepped back into the cabin to have a look at
that.
Fortunately, the captain had gone on deck, and Henry was free to
examine things to his heart’s content. The cabin would have filled
the heart of any boy with delight. Occupying a cross section of the
after part of the ship, it reached from side to side of the vessel,
with rows of round air-ports on either side letting in air and
light, and giving a view out over the water. Along either wall,
directly under these air-ports, were leather-cushioned seats, where
one could sit or lie at ease. In the centre of the room was a square
oak table, now covered with a soft green felt cover. A sideboard was
built into one side of the cabin, and Henry was interested to note
how all the goblets and dishes were secured so that they could not
fall from their places. Closets were also built into the sides of
the room, and one corner was occupied by the captain’s desk, with
his typewriter fixed on a movable shelf attached thereto. Doors led
mysteriously into other parts of the ship, one of which, Henry later
found, opened into the cabin of the captain’s steward or mess
attendant. And of course there were comfortable chairs and electric
lights everywhere, and books in a case, and some silver cups that
Henry found had been won by the crew of the _Iroquois_ at the annual
manœuvres of the Coast Guard fleet at Cape May, and so many other
snug and interesting things that he thought this was indeed the most
delightful place he had ever been in. And now that the captain was
not present, he wanted more than ever to give a loud whoop or two.
It is altogether likely that he would have done so, too, had he not
just then heard the clang of the motor-boat’s bell alongside, and in
another moment footsteps sounded in the companionway. Then the
captain entered the cabin, followed by a tall, muscular-looking
officer in full uniform.
“Mr. Harris,” said the captain, “this is my young friend, Henry
Harper. He is going to be my guest for a few days. Henry, this is my
executive officer, Mr. Harris.”
The two shook hands, and Henry knew at once that he was going to
like the tall, frank-looking sailor before him. Honesty was written
all over his face, and his wide-set blue eyes were as kindly as they
were fearless. The moment he had finished greeting Henry, he turned
to his chief expectantly.
“I just got a wireless order to destroy a derelict that was sighted
off Nantucket Shoals, well offshore. Suppose you ask the chief
engineer to get the ship under way at once, Mr. Harris.”
As the executive officer turned to go, the captain continued: “I
don’t like the looks of the weather. Fog may shut down at any
moment. We want to get out to sea before it catches us, if possible.
So tell him to drive her hard.”
“Very well, sir.” And the captain’s right-hand man stepped out of
the cabin.
“Henry,” said the captain, “I had better introduce you to the other
officers at once. I’ll be busy in a little while, and might forget
about it. Come into the wardroom with me.”
The captain was hard on the heels of the retiring executive officer.
Henry followed his host through the companionway door, but instead
of mounting the steps, the captain entered a second door directly
opposite his own at the foot of the staircase, and Henry, following,
found himself in the wardroom, or living-room, for the other
commissioned officers. This was immediately forward of the captain’s
cabin, and was not unlike it in size and furnishings. Several men in
uniform sat about a table in the centre of the room, reading
magazines, playing solitaire, or otherwise amusing themselves. All
arose as the captain entered.
“Gentlemen,” said the commander, “this is Henry Harper, who is to be
my guest for a few days.” Then the captain made Henry acquainted
with each man separately, naming them as Chief Engineer Farley,
Lieutenant Hill, Ensign Maxwell, and Dr. Drake, whom Henry had
already met, although he did not until this time know his name.
“We’re short-handed, as you see,” said the captain, “but I guess
we’ll manage to operate the ship anyhow.” And with a pleasantry or
two, he withdrew. The executive officer delivered the captain’s
order, and all the officers, hearing it, went to their stations.
“What did the captain mean when he said you were short-handed?”
Henry asked the doctor.
“Oh! We don’t have our full complement of officers. We lack a junior
engineer officer and a junior lieutenant. It makes it a little hard,
because the officers we do have must perform extra duty.”
While they were talking Henry suddenly became conscious of a curious
vibration in the ship, and a low, rumbling noise that filled the
air. He suspected that the ship’s propeller must be turning. The
ensign confirmed his suspicion when he said: “We’re moving. Would
you like to go on deck and see how we get under way?”
Henry did not know it, but the ensign was quite as eager to see as
Henry himself could possibly be. The ensign was fresh from the Coast
Guard Academy, and this was his first trip as a commissioned
officer. Henry was grateful for the courtesy, and gladly followed
the young officer up the companionway.
“Come up on the bridge,” said the ensign. “As the captain’s guest,
you will be free to go anywhere. We can see better there.”
Interesting as the sights about them were, the things to be seen on
deck were even more interesting to Henry. And he made his way
forward very leisurely, as he took the first good look at the
_Iroquois_ he had had opportunity to take. He noted that the
after-deck, from the companionway to the taffrail, was entirely
clear and open, and was roofed over with a tightly stretched awning.
Amidships towered the smoke-stack. And here, too, was an array of
skylights and ventilators, all open now, but so arranged, Henry saw,
that in time of rough weather they could be securely battened down.
And there were iron doors leading directly downward into the bowels
of the ship. One of them was the door through which Henry had
descended to the fireroom. Close by the after companionway rose a
stately mast. High up on it was the barrel-like “crow’s-nest,” for a
lookout aloft. And forward, just behind the wheelhouse, towered a
second mast, also with a crow’s-nest, and with signal lamps on a
cross-arm. Immediately Henry caught sight of the wireless antennæ
stretched between these two masts, and his practiced eye noted every
detail of the wiring, and traced the lead-in wire downward to a room
beneath the wheelhouse. Amidships, along either rail, hung three or
four lifeboats, swung outboard over the side of the ship, and lashed
fast to big horizontal spars or strongbacks with stout rope shackles
called gripes, so that they were held immovable, as in a vice. And
here and there along the rails circular life buoys were fastened or
“stopped” with short pieces of rope.
But before Henry could take in any more details, his companion had
mounted a ladder that led directly to the bridge, where the captain
had already taken his station.
The bridge was a steel structure, reaching from side to side of the
ship, and raised high above the deck, so that an unobstructed view
could be had of everything. It was railed in with strong, iron
rails, reaching breast-high. Stout canvas covers were fastened all
around it, extending from the floor almost to the level of the eyes,
excepting immediately in front of the wheelhouse, where they were
fastened lower. This was the weather cloth, to shut off the wind;
and, as Henry was to learn, it was a welcome aid to the navigator.
Compasses were balanced on strong pedestals at either side of the
bridge, and there were various levers, to use in blowing the ship’s
siren, and for other purposes as well, though, of course, Henry did
not yet know what they were for, any more than he understood that
the Franklin metal life-belts, or buoys, that hung at either end of
the bridge could be dropped overboard by a single motion of the
hand, and that when they struck the water the queer-looking tubes
projecting from them would shoot out lights that would burn for a
long period, showing persons struggling in the sea which way to swim
for safety.
At present Henry was wholly engrossed in the action that was taking
place before him. The ship was moving gently through the water. The
anchor had been partly heaved up by the little hoisting engine on
the forward deck, but in heaving it, the chain had become twisted
around one of the movable flukes, so that the stem of the anchor
could not be properly heaved in through the hawse hole. A warrant
officer in uniform, and a small group of sailors, leaned over the
bow rail, trying to release the fouled anchor. A slender rope ladder
had been lowered over the side, and on this a sailor was creeping
down to the anchor that hung partly in the water, with a small rope
in his hand. The rope he cautiously slipped around a fluke, so that
the anchor could be tilted up.
“That’s the boatswain, Mr. Johnson,” said the ensign, indicating the
warrant officer in charge of the sailors.
Presently the anchor was freed. The boatswain signaled to the man at
the hoisting engine, and slowly the huge anchor-chain was heaved
taut, with the flukes of the anchor drawn up tight against the hawse
hole. The moment the anchor was lifted free of the water, the
boatswain notified the captain, who immediately signaled the
engineer to crowd on steam. At once the vibration of the ship became
more noticeable. Faster and faster she began to surge through the
water, and presently she was steaming at top speed toward the open
sea.
On some other occasion, perhaps, Henry would have centred his
attention on the views without, but now he was wholly occupied with
the mysteries of this wonderful ship, so he paid slight heed to the
wonderful sights in the Narrows, and gladly followed the ensign when
the latter suggested that they step inside.
They entered the wheelhouse, a tiny room just behind the bridge,
where a sailor stood at the wheel, steering the ship in accordance
with the captain’s low-spoken orders. Immediately they passed
through a door into the chart-room. This was somewhat larger than
the wheelhouse, though tiny at best. On a large shelf or table lay a
number of charts, some dividers, pencils, erasers, sliding rules,
and some binoculars. In a rack on the wall were various code-books
and books of instructions to navigators. Lieutenant Hill was erasing
some lines from a chart. A moment later the captain stepped in. The
two consulted the chart, and made some measurements with the sliding
rule.
“Our course is east, three-quarters south,” said the lieutenant.
“Very good,” replied the captain. “Mark it on the chart.”
The lieutenant laid his rule along the course indicated, and drew a
line on the chart, while the captain stepped into the wheel room.
“Keep her east, three-quarters south,” he said to the man at the
wheel.
“Aye, aye, sir. East, three-quarters south,” answered the helmsman.
“We’re laying a course direct for Ambrose Lightship,” said the
lieutenant to Henry. “After we reach that we will head directly for
the location of the derelict.”
Presently, as he heard a thin, shrill whistle piping on deck, Henry
turned to the ensign.
“What was that?” he inquired.
“That’s the boatswain’s mate piping mess gear.”
“That’s all Greek to me,” laughed Henry.
“Well, that’s the nautical term for the call to table. The whistle
blows ten minutes before meal time, and the men, except those who
must remain on duty, must wash for supper. See them scurrying to get
ready? Meals are served at seven-twenty, noon, and five at night. So
it’s ten minutes of five now.”
Henry was watching the sailors hurrying below, when a hand was laid
on his shoulder. “Well, youngster,” said the captain’s kindly voice,
“it’s time that you and I got washed up, too, or Rollin will be in
our wool.”
Thanking the ensign for his kindness, Henry followed the commander
to the deck and then down the companionway to the cabin. What he saw
made Henry open his eyes wide. A snowy table-cloth had replaced the
green felt table-cover, and the square little table was beautifully
set for two.
“You’ll find towels in your bathroom,” said the captain. “And if
anything is missing, just ring for Rollin and he will bring it to
you.”
In a few moments the captain and Henry sat face to face at the small
table, and Henry was enjoying one of the pleasantest meals he had
ever had.
Night was approaching when the meal was ended. “I must be getting my
message off to my mother,” said Henry.
“Surely,” assented the commander. “We mustn’t forget that. Come with
me and we’ll go get acquainted with Sparks.”
“Sparks?” queried Henry.
“Oh! That’s our pet name for Harry Sharp, the chief electrician. He
has charge of all the electrical apparatus as well as the wireless
itself.”
They found the chief electrician in the wireless house, for it was
his trick at the key. “Mr. Sharp,” smiled the captain, “this is
Henry Harper. He’s taking a little trip with us, and maybe he’ll be
a Coast Guard man himself some day. Just now he wants to send a
message to his friends at home, so that his mother won’t be alarmed
about him. Will you help him out?”
Henry’s eyes shone bright as he looked about the small wireless
room. There was a broad, desk-like shelf that stretched from side to
side of the little room, and on this, and on the walls about him,
were fastened a dazzling array of wireless instruments.
“Gee!” exclaimed Henry. “What a peach of an outfit!”
“It ought to be,” said the chief electrician with a smile. “It’s
right up-to-date, and it cost Uncle Sam ten thousand dollars. Know
anything about wireless?”
“A little,” said Henry. “I served as a substitute operator at the
government station at Frankfort for a time.”
“Would you like to send your own message?”
“Would I? Gee! I should say so.”
“All right. Sit down here and let’s see what you can do. Call up
your station.”
“Thank you,” said Henry. “Will you set her for two hundred and fifty
meters, please?”
The electrician twirled his thumbscrews. Henry tested the key for a
moment, then threw over the switch and sent his call speeding
through the night: “CBWC—CBWC—CBWC—de—CBE.”
“You send well,” said the chief electrician.
For a few moments the two operators sat, their phones clamped to
their ears, listening intently. There was no response.
“CBWC—CBWC—CBWC—de—CBE,” once more rapped out Henry.
This time there came a faint answer: “CBE—CBE—CBE—de—CBWK—K.”
“You’ve got ’em,” commented the electrician. “Go ahead.”
“Reached New York all right,” wired Henry. “Both Willie and Roy out
of town. Made the acquaintance of Captain Hardwick, of the Coast
Guard cutter _Iroquois_. Am going to sea for a short trip as his
guest. We are now in Lower New York Bay, heading for Ambrose
Lightship. We are to find a derelict and destroy it. Please tell
mother to write me in care of Captain Hardwick. Will send her a
letter as soon as we get back.”
There was a long pause. Then the receivers began to buzz again.
“Your mother is here,” came the message. “Wants to know more about
your trip.”
Henry turned to his companion. “They are talking from the workshop
in our back yard,” he explained. “It’s headquarters for our wireless
club. We call it The Camp Brady Wireless Patrol. They’ve called
mother out to the shop.”
Then he pressed the key again. “Tell her I’ll write,” he flashed
back, and turning again to the chief electrician, he said with a
grin: “Gee! I’d never dare tell her that I fell overboard. She’d
have a fit and order me right home.”
“Where can we get you?” came another query.
“Call the _Iroquois_.” Once more Henry faced his companion. “What is
our call signal?” he asked.
“NTE,” was the reply.
And Henry hastily added to his message: “Our call is NTE. Can send
no more. Goodbye.”
“Gee!” he exclaimed, as he laid down the receivers. “Won’t my chums
be an astonished bunch! It was almost worth falling overboard to
give ’em such a surprise! And won’t they envy me! I’m going to have
the time of my life.”