THE MISSING SUBMARINE.
When Arnold Hythe recovered consciousness he found himself lying on his
bunk in the cabin that had been appropriated to his use. The scuttle
was closed, an electric light was burning, and by the slight and
peculiar oscillation of the vessel he knew that the "Aphrodite" was
running submerged.
He was not alone. Sitting at the head of his bunk was Kenwyn, the
second officer. He was reading a book, but hearing the sub move he
replaced the volume on a shelf and asked Hythe how he felt.
"Not quite up to the mark, thanks. But what am I doing here? Ah, I
remember. Have you got Gwennap safe on board?"
"Yes, thanks chiefly to you. He's still unconscious. Devoran told me
he saw you knock the nonsense out of him, By Jove! I shouldn't like a
blow like that."
"I hope I didn't hit him too hard?" asked the sub anxiously.
"Too hard? Not much. He's as tough as nails, and he thoroughly
deserved to have his figure-head damaged. He is the only member of the
ship's company who cannot swim, and the captain has been trying to get
the fellow to learn for a long time past. But you are a plucky fellow,
Hythe."
"Where are we making for now?" asked Hythe, seeking to change an
embarrassing subject. "Has the propeller-shafting been cleared yet?"
"We're making for the North coast of Spain: Machichaco Bay, to be
exact--a place a short distance to the east'ard of Cape Villano. You
see, the rising sea and Gwennap's accident interrupted the work in hand,
so Captain Restronguet, rather than put into any of the harbours on the
French Biscayan coast, has decided to make for Machichaco Bay, where
there are excellent facilities for repairing the damage without fear of
interruption. We are running with only the port propeller, that gives
us barely twelve knots when submerged, and at that rate we expect to
sight land about mid day on Thursday."
"Is Captain Restronguet going to beach the 'Aphrodite' at half tide?"
asked Hythe.
"Rather not. No, our repairs will be carried out on the floor of the
bay, where we shall be unseen by every one. But don't talk any more at
present. Drink this and try to go to sleep."
"But I don't want to go to sleep," expostulated Hythe.
"Very well, then, don't, only drink this. It will buck you up."
The sub took the glass proffered by the wily Kenwyn, and drained it at a
gulp. Within three minutes he was sleeping peacefully.
When Hythe awoke again after an eight hour's sleep all traces of his
strenuous exertions had vanished. He tubbed, dressed in his own
clothes, which had meanwhile been dried and pressed, and went down to
breakfast in the captain's cabin.
Captain Restronguet greeted his guest warmly, until Hythe felt quite
uncomfortable at the praises bestowed upon him for his act of gallantry.
Once more he succeeded in changing the subject, this time by asking if
any news had been received of the "Vorwartz."
"Nothing that will give us definite information as to where she is
making for," replied Captain Restronguet. "But from my British agent I
have had news that Karl von Harburg has been declared a pirate by the
Great Powers and by several lesser maritime states as well, and that war
vessels are authorized to capture or destroy the 'Vorwartz' without
compunction. I fancy, however, that that part of the business will be
left to us."
"You mean to track him down?"
"Through the five oceans, if needs must. But for the time being we are
put out of the running. Have you ever been to the north coast of Spain,
Mr. Hythe?"
"Yes, to Bilbao, Santander, and Coruna; but it was two years ago, when I
was in the old 'Alacrity.'"
"Then you don't know Machichaco Bay?"
"Never heard of it until Mr. Kenwyn mentioned the name to me, sir."
"H'm. Do you remember the disaster to 'La Flamme'?"
"The French submarine that was supposed to have been run down on her way
from Rochefort to Toulon?"
"Yes, the Dutch liner 'Huitzens' arrived at Rotterdam about that time
with several of her bow plates buckled, and reported she had been in
collision with an unknown object thirty miles off Cape Finisterre. The
theory was advanced and generally accepted that the liner ran down the
French submarine."
"And didn't she? Do you know anything about it?" asked Hythe
interestedly.
"I think I can show you certain evidence before many more days are
passed. Ha, Devoran, what is it?"
"Cape Machichaco in sight, sir."
"Very good. We'll go to the fore conning-tower, Mr. Hythe. You will
then be able to see how we con the 'Aphrodite' into this somewhat
intricate roadstead."
The submarine was now running at a little less than eight knots and at
thirty-five feet below the surface. The electrically operated periscope
with its flexible attachments was in operation, and by looking at the
object-board the sub could discern what appeared to be a range of hills,
above which a remarkably-shaped peak towered to a considerable height.
Close to the edge of the cliffs could be seen a circular lighthouse and
the keeper's house, both painted white. Some little distance from the
cape two forbidding looking rocks reared their gaunt black heads above
the sea, while between these rocks and the shore was a tumbling mass of
white foam.
"Is that the cape? Where, then, is the bay?" asked Hythe.
"It is hardly recognizable from the distance. There it lies--away to the
east'ard. A point to starboard, quartermaster--gently does it--so."
Slowly and steadily the "Aphrodite" approached the desired anchorage.
Through the starboard observation scuttle the sub saw vicious-looking
rocks more than once, rising boldly from the bottom of the sea at less
than twenty yards off. Between them were cavernous depths that could
only be compared to an American canyon suddenly submerged in a
tremendous flood.
While the quartermaster kept the "Aphrodite" on her course Captain
Restronguet directed all his attention to the submarine cliffs. Hythe
could hear him counting as the dangerous rocks appeared to slip by.
"Hard a port."
Round swung the "Aphrodite" till her bows pointed straight for a narrow
gap in the rocks. The sub stood aghast. Surely it was courting disaster
to plunge into a submarine defile, so dark and so narrow that it seemed
an impossibility for her to pass without touching the jagged pinnacles
on either hand?
The gauge now showed a depth of fifty-five feet. At a sign from the
captain, Kenwyn touched a switch and instantly two parallel beams of
brilliant light flashed from the sides of the conning-tower. As far as
the beams penetrated nothing but water could be seen, but in the
reflected light on either hand the ghost-like rocks flitted past in a
seemingly endless procession. The "Aphrodite" was threading an intricate
passage between the dangerous shoals of Machichaco Bay.
Suddenly a weed-covered crag, looking like a pillar of glistening
silver, came within the zone of the port search-light. A slight touch
at the helm and the "Aphrodite" swung round, clearing the danger with
comparative ease. On and on she went, literally crawling and smelling
her way through that forbidding channel.
Presently Captain Restronguet touched Hythe upon the shoulder.
"Look!" said he, at the same time switching on a supplementary
search-light that, instead of playing in a fore and aft direction, threw
its beam at right angles to the submarine's course. For less than ten
seconds the captain kept the light switched on, but in that short
interval the sub saw something that made the blood run cold in his
veins.
Perched upon a flat rock so insecurely that it seemed as if the faint
"wash" from the "Aphrodite" would topple it over, was a regularly-shaped
mass literally covered with barnacles and plentifully festooned with
trailing seaweed. But even these disguises Hythe could penetrate: there
was no mistaking the tapering stern, the horizontal and vertical
rudders, and the twin screws of a standard type of submarine.
"'La Flamme,'" announced Captain Restronguet, at the same time raising
his right hand to the salute in honour of the brave dead, an example
that Hythe promptly followed.
A little farther and the twin search-lights played upon a solid barrier
of rock, extending from side to side of the submerged gulley.
Placing the engine-room indicator to half-speed astern Captain
Restronguet waited till the "Aphrodite's" way was checked; then turning
to Mr. Devoran he nodded his head significantly.
Immediately the chief officer opened the valves of the subsidiary
ballast tanks and the "Aphrodite" sank vertically to a depth of
sixty-five feet beneath the surface, and rested firmly upon the sand on
the bed of Machichaco Bay.
The sub glanced at his watch. Notwithstanding the fact that he had been
wearing it when he dived overboard to the rescue of the man Gwennap it
had sustained no damage whatsoever from its immersion. He was surprised
to find that it was nine o'clock. Nearly an hour had elapsed since the
submarine had first entered the tortuous defile.
"We cannot do more until daylight," announced Captain Restronguet, as
soon as the patent anchors had obtained a firm hold in the sand. During
the navigation of the "Aphrodite" through the dangerous channel he had
been constrained; his whole attention had to be concentrated on his
work, but now his usual willingness to impart information returned.
The search-lights, now no longer necessary, were switched off, so that
no belated fishing-boat might have occasion to report the presence of a
mysterious phosphorescence in the depths of the bay; and having received
reassuring reports from various parts of the vessel the captain
intimated that the somewhat long-delayed dinner would prove acceptable.
"I discovered this channel quite by accident," said the captain, during
the progress of the meal. "We put in here on our way north, since the
nautical directories state that here the currents run with great
velocity. This step was necessary since our accumulators were rather
run down and I particularly wished to have a good reserve of power for
our run across the bay and up the English Channel. Of course, in a
'blind alley' such as we are in now, there are no eddies or currents to
trouble us. I was looking for a good sheltered berth, for as far as we
could see through the observation plate in the bottom of the vessel
there was nothing but jagged rocks. We were moving very slowly, at
twenty feet below the surface, when Mylor shouted that we were passing
over a submarine. I at once thought that we were about to be attacked
by the 'Vorwartz,' but Mylor promptly supplemented his first assertion
by saying that the craft was a wreck."
"You say it is 'La Flamme,' sir"? asked Hythe. "How, then, is the fact
to be accounted for that she was run down off Cape Finisterre?"
"She never was," replied Captain Restronguet calmly. "That was a
statement based upon suggestions made by the liner's crew. No doubt
they cut something down. The state of her bows proved that; but it was
more likely that of a derelict or else perhaps an unfortunate
fishing-vessel. Well, we found the channel, and by carefully feeling our
way out, came to the current that served our purpose admirably."
"It is a tricky piece of navigation," remarked the sub.
"Not so much as one would think. You observed the two forward
search-lights? Their beams are not exactly parallel, but slightly
diverging. So long as the water illuminated by them is unobstructed I
know that the 'Aphrodite' is safe. Directly any dangerous object comes
within the field of light I know that it lies in the vessel's course,
and have to alter helm accordingly."
"Did you examine the wrecked submarine?" asked Hythe.
"Yes; a brief external examination, but enough to satisfy me that it was
'La Flamme,' and also the manner in which she met her fate. To-morrow,
while the repairs are being undertaken, I propose to make a fairly
lengthy examination, both external and internal. Perhaps you would like
to accompany me."
"I should, sir, with pleasure," replied Hythe.
"I warn you that the sight will not be a pleasant one. In fact, were it
not for a definite purpose, I would hesitate to undertake the interior
examination."
"I have seen a few gruesome things during the comparatively short time I
have been in the Service, sir."
"Very well, then. I mean to write out a report and forward it to the
French Government. Perhaps you will be so kind as to endorse it with
your signature and rank? I have already mentioned that I regard myself
as a humanitarian. I hope the report and the suggestions I make will go
a long way towards abolishing submarine warfare."
"Abolish submarine warfare?" exclaimed Hythe, astonished at the
suggestion, that to him--a naval officer, who had qualified in submarine
work--was utterly absurd.
"Certainly," resumed his host. "With all due respect to the Geneva
Convention its work is performed in a very slipshod manner. You are not
allowed by international restrictions to poison wells, or use explosive
bullets; yet you are permitted to employ enormous shells, mines,
torpedoes, submarines, bombs from aircraft and a host of the most
devilish ingenuities that civilized men can devise for the destruction
of their fellow-beings. Which would you prefer, Mr. Hythe, to be
quickly and painlessly poisoned when slaking your thirst on the field of
battle, or to be horribly mutilated by fragments of a shell, and remain,
perhaps for years, a misery to yourself and your fellows?"
The sub shook his head.
"By eliminating certain means of offence you reduce the limits of the
horrors of war."
"Of the means only, the horrors of war will never be mitigated until the
ban upon explosive shells, submarine, and aerial offence and defence is
imposed. Thus I maintain that the Geneva Conference has only taken a
middle course. Better by far to place no limitations and make war so
horrible that no nation will dare draw the sword; or else restrict the
weapons of offence to solid armour-piercing shells for naval warfare,
small calibre rifle bullets and cold steel. To my mind submarine
warfare, including torpedo work, is a despicable form of destruction."
"Yet you yourself are bent upon an errand of destruction by means of
your submarine."
"Precisely. And it is the same in international warfare, because A
builds a submarine, B must do likewise, in order to fight upon equal
terms. But wait until to-morrow. When you have explored 'La Flamme'
perhaps you may see eye to eye with me."
"What caused the disaster, sir?" asked Hythe.
"For the present I prefer not to answer that question," was the reply.
"To-morrow I think I can explain more clearly."
After breakfast on the following morning a strong working-party, under
the direction of the chief officer, prepared to tackle the task of
freeing the propeller. Clad in their diving suits the men entered the
air-lock and thence slipped out into the sea. Soon the hull resounded
to the rasping of the hack-saws as the men attacked the hempen rope that
was coiled tightly round the shafting.
"Are you ready, Mr. Hythe?" asked the captain.
The sub assented, and Captain Restronguet led the way for'ard to the
divers' dressing-room. On the way he stopped, and asked his companion to
accompany him to the after-conning-tower.
The sun was now shining brightly, and even at that depth the luminosity
was sufficient to enable the interior of the conning-tower to be seen
without the aid of artificial light.
"It is now nine o'clock," remarked Captain Restronguet. "On what
quarter ought the sun to be visible at this hour?"
"South-east," replied Hythe promptly.
"Now look at its bearing according to our standard compass."
"Why, it bears south-west."
"Exactly. Now that explains the loss of 'La Flamme.' Practically the
whole of this coast contains vast quantities of iron ore, and the
deviation of the compass at this particular spot amounts to as much as
ninety degrees. The north-west coast of Spain is bad enough in this
respect. You may have heard of the loss of the 'Serpent,' several years
ago. That was attributed to magnetic influence of the iron ore upon the
ship's compass. Here the error is still greater. It is easy to
understand that the unfortunate submarine, getting within the fatal
influence of the magnetic attraction, ran full tilt upon the rocks in a
heavy sea and on a pitch-dark night. But we will now prepare for our
submarine walk."
In the dressing-room were Kenwyn, Carnon the quartermaster, and
O'Shaunessey, who were also to form the party. The Irishman was
somewhat doubtfully examining the dress and helmet served out to him.
Anything that was not "regulation" he regarded with suspicion.
"Buck up, O'Shaunessey!" said the quartermaster. "Here's the cap'n; and
you're not ready yet."
"Sure, I'm ready," replied the Irishman. "But can't I have me own
dress?"
"You'll be sorry for yourself if you do," said Captain Restronguet who
had overheard O'Shaunessey's remark. "Before you've gone fifty yards
you will feel as if you're squashed between the jaws of a vice."
"You see," he added, turning to Hythe, "the air in a diving-dress fitted
with an air-tube is kept under a fairly good pressure; with ours, the
air supply being self-contained, only a very slight pressure is
maintained. We rely upon the stiffening bands in the flexible metal
fabric to withstand the exterior pressure of the water."
Having donned their diving garb, Polglaze served out to each man a small
electric lamp. Captain Restronguet and Hythe both carried a steel
crowbar, Kenyon a long adjustable spanner, while Carnon and O'Shaunessey
took axes. The quartermaster was also equipped with a slate for writing
messages, that being the only form of definite communication under
water.
As soon as the five men entered the air-lock the water was admitted.
When the compartment was full Captain Restronguet thrust back a couple
of levers and a portion of the exterior plating of the hull was pushed
aside. From the sill of this aperture to the bed of the sea was a drop
of nearly ten feet. Unhesitatingly the captain leapt and sank upon a
sandy floor, where he was joined by his companions.
Hythe found that walking in this form of dress was far easier than
plodding along in the orthodox diving-suit in use in the British Navy.
The absence of life-line and air-tube, with their attendant drag upon
the diver, was particularly noticeable.
A short halt was made to examine the progress of the work upon the
damaged propeller. Already the men had made a fair show with the job,
but, as the sub had predicted, every strand had to be carefully cut
through and prised up. Under the best conditions it would require
another three hours of arduous labour to free the shafting from the
obstruction.
At that depth the light was strong enough to see nearly twenty yards
ahead, and Hythe was struck with the peculiar formation of the submarine
gorge. It was as if human hands had hewn out a deep and narrow passage
through the solid rock, here and there cutting side tunnels that faded
away in the distant gloom. Fantastic marine growths occurred in patches
that had to be carefully avoided, for some of the tendrils were armed
with crooked spikes, sufficiently strong and sharp to do untold damage
to any diver who was incautious enough to get into their toils. At
other places fern-like weeds growing to a height of ten feet made the
floor of the bay resemble a tropical-forest. Sponges grew in profusion;
oyster-shells, a yard in diameter, were occasionally met with. Once
O'Shaunessey's foot narrowly escaped being seized by the gaping jaws of
one of these bivalves. A second later and his limb would have been
crushed to a pulp.
As the five advanced crabs large and small swarmed sideways across their
path to seek shelter amongst the rocks; fish in shoals darted from the
unwonted sight of the diving-dresses, although a few, bolder or more
stupid than the rest, swam quite close to the submarine pedestrians.
Presently the passage bifurcated, both arms shooting off at a very
narrow angle. Unhesitatingly Captain Restronguet took the left. All
the same Hythe wondered what would happen if they lost their way, for
there was nothing whereby he could distinguish one way from another.
Stopping at one of the branch passages Captain Restronguet pointed
towards it, then switching on his lamp began to clear away through the
seaweed that grew to a height of nearly twenty feet. Hythe followed,
tit was like pushing aside a Japanese curtain, for the flexible tendrils
closed behind him.
The belt of weed was comparatively narrow; less than five yards brought
the men to a close sandy space. Here the sub stopped. Right in front
of him, and hidden from the natural light by a thick canopy of weeds,
were the jagged, barnacle-encrusted timbers of a ship.
She was lying slightly over to starboard, but the list was enough to
cause her double tier of guns to fall through the rotting planks. Her
bowsprit had been carried away close to the gammoning; of her masts only
two shattered stumps remained. Waterlogged cordage and sails trailed
dolefully over her sloping deck, while her figurehead--that of a woman
holding a rod--was just recognizable in its decay.
At each step, careful though they were, Hythe and his companions kicked
up a cloud of iron rust, till the scene of desolation was almost blotted
out. Of the ship's guns those that were of iron had almost crumbled
into flakes of rust, but the brass cannon were in almost as good
condition as they were when the wreck was a noble ship. The sub stooped
and examined one of the brass pieces of ordnance. Close to the touch
hole were the letters L.R. and the date 1692.
"A Frenchman: time of Louis XIV, by Jove!" said the sub to himself. "I
wonder what her name is?"
He was on the point of walking towards the stern of the wreck when
Captain Restronguet laid a detaining hand on his shoulder and flashed
his light upon the rust-discoloured sand. Hythe instantly drew back.
Almost under his feet yawned a hole full of trailing weeds that looked
for all the world like a pit full of loathsome serpents.
Evidently understanding the reason for his companion's curiosity the
captain beckoned to Carclew to approach. Then taking the
quartermaster's slate he wrote in bold characters "La Sybille, French
treasure-ship, sunk in action, 1695."