Under the Ice

“Helmsman, come port to one-one-zero true.”

As the bow of the Defiance swung left, Colter stretched his arms and yawned.

“I’ll leave the Defiance in your capable hands, Al. When we reach thirty fathoms, submerge and set your course for Nantucket Shoals, speed twenty knots.”

“So it looks like I’ll get out to Nantucket this evening after all,” reflected the XO, as he watched the captain turn for the hatch leading to the ship’s interior.

Exhausted after the full day of last-minute preparations, Matt Colter climbed down the steep, steel ladder, heading below. With practiced ease he passed through a narrow, water-tight hatch and stepped down into the control room.

Lit by an ethereal red light designed to protect the crew’s night vision, the control room was hushed, a serious atmosphere prevailing. Trying not to break this spell. Colter briefly glanced at the helmsman, who sat strapped to his padded chair, the airplane-type steering column gripped firmly in hand.

Mounted before this alert seaman was a compass repeater, their exact course clearly displayed in a dimly glowing, digital readout screen.

Behind the helmsman was the ship’s diving station.

Here Chief Sandusky passed the time sipping a mug of coffee, while waiting for the inevitable order that would cause him to trigger the ballast mechanisms and send the Defiance plunging down into the silent depths below.

Before heading on to his cabin. Colter took a moment to visit the station that was set immediately aft of the diving console. Silently picking his way through the equipment-packed deck, the captain caught sight of the glowing, green fluorescent display of the radar screen. Projected on this monitor was a portion of the coastline they had long since left behind them, and a single blinking contact that was situated off their starboard bow.

Matt Colter firmly addressed the young seaman who was perched beside this screen.

“Make certain to inform Lieutenant Commander Layman the moment that contact changes its course.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” shot back the alert sailor.

“As it appears now, our closest point of approach will be three miles.”

The captain nodded.

“Good. I want to keep it that way. Any idea what type of vessel it might be?”

Ever ready to impress his commanding officer, the seaman retorted.

“Looks like a fishing trawler, sir.”

“If that’s the case, let’s just hope they don’t have any nets in the water. We certainly wouldn’t want to get snagged.”

His gaze still glued to the radar monitor, the young seaman cleared his throat and dared to put forth a single question.

“Sir, is it true that we’re headed back for the ice?”

The astounding speed with which Navy scuttlebutt spread never failed to impress Colter. He cautiously answered, “I’ll be officially announcing our destination tomorrow, sailor. But in the meantime, if I were you, I’d keep those woolen sweaters and long Johns handy.”

The radar operator grinned; “I’ll do that. Captain.”

Having affectionately patted the young sailor on the back. Colter turned for his quarters. It had been a long tiring day. The unexpected sailing orders had caught everyone by complete surprise, himself most of all. It had taken a combined effort to get the Defiance once again ready for the sea. The restocking of their limited food supply was a primary concern.

Yet because they had just returned a week earlier than anticipated, their larders hadn’t been totally empty.

Since their reactor didn’t need to be refueled for at least another year. Colter next concentrated on tracking down those crew members who had already left the ship to be with their friends or families. While phone calls, and even messengers, were used to track down these errant seamen, Matt turned to yet another major concern — the surface-scanning Fathometers.

No matter how you looked at it, the Defiance would soon be on its way to the frozen Arctic without either of its Fathometers in working order.

Hopefully, this deficiency would be rectified in three days’ time. Yet Matt was still hesitant to rely on the prototype system. Regardless of the fact that Laurie Lansing was aboard to insure that the device was functioning properly, his gut feeling warned him to be extra cautious this time around. At the first sign of trouble, he intended to switch over to the old unit; the chief engineer had promised it would also be operational in three more days. Of course, by that time he’d most probably have the rest of his orders and know precisely what their mission was.

Unexpected patrols such as the one they were on were a headache to coordinate, but they were exciting.

Usually designed with a definite purpose in mind, such missions were far more invigorating than dull sea trials and predictable maneuvers with the fleet. Because Dr. Lansing had been ordered to sea with them, it was evident that the orders he’d soon be receiving would have something to do with an ascent to the surface of the polar ice cap.