coveralls and long johns, McHugh looked more like an automobile mechanic than someone soon to touch the bottom of one of the deepest parts of the Atlantic Ocean. Robison had a brown paper bag with him, the kind of brown bag you might get in a department store. Liu was already dressed in his wet suit.
The Squid looked glorious. It was hard not to fall in love with this sleek machine. As the crew stood around the Squid , Robison brought out his brown paper bag and with a flourish demanded everyone's attention.
"On this solemn occasion, I think that it is appropriate to celebrate the maiden voyage of the Squid . Therefore, as the mother, father, progenitor and care-taker of the creature we call the Squid , I hereby declare her operational. As a small memento of this moment, I had some shoulder patches and hats embroidered with the Squid insignia for each of you and the other members of this mission."
Someone produced a Polaroid camera and shot some photos of the momentous occasion.
The patch was beautiful. The royal blue patch was ringed with gold edging, the gold MacAlear logo was intertwined with the tentacles of a white Squid. Robison started to pass out the hats and the patches. Sevson stopped him, "Don't you think it would mean more if the whole kit 'n caboodle went to the bottom and then up?"
"Hey that's a good idea, why didn't I think of that?" said Robison.
"Because you're a dumb shit, Robison." explained Sevson with a grin.
Standing off to one side, in a loud stage whisper to Mike, McHugh growled, "Make sure none of that is charged to the United States Navy, Lieutenant Liu."
Having said that, McHugh made sure he got his patch which he put into the left breast pocket of his coveralls and his hat which he put on his head with a broad grin.
The brief ceremony completed, the men fell to the tasks at hand. The crew of the Squid climbed on board the submersible and disappeared one by one through the conning tower and into the pressure sphere. Carver, the last of the four man crew to board the Squid , pulled the hatch closed and locked the hatch. Having donned his SCUBA tank and face mask, Mike plugged the cable for the intercom into the receptacle on the Squid .
"How do you read me?" inquired Mike.
"Loud and clear, champ!"
The launching sequence went flawlessly and quickly. Within what seemed only minutes, the Squid was committed to the deep, Mike and the two MacAlear technicians watched as the white color of the submersible gently disappeared into the darkness.
The pinging of the depth sonar increased in frequency as the Squid spiraled toward the bottom. The Squid settled gently on the soft bottom, stirring up a cloud of silt, undisturbed for centuries in the quietness of the Hatteras Abyssal Plain. Until the silt settled, there was nothing that the crew could do but wait. Anderson switched on the outside lights for a second, but all they saw was the reflection of the dust cloud.
The time gave McHugh and Robison an opportunity to revisit the topographical maps drawn by McHugh's oceanographic team at Port Hueneme, California, from data collected by Nematode and the USS Marysville . The plan was for this team to reconnoiter the northern sector of the mysterious object. Liu and Sevson in a subsequent dive would explore the southern sector.
"From this map, it appears that we have landed about one half mile to the northeast of the object," said Robison making some rough calculations based on the Squid's descent time and current meter readings.
After the silt cloud had dissipated, Anderson adjusted his buoyancy and ever so slowly lifted off the bottom so as to not kick up any more silt. Taking his magnetic bearings, adjusted for the magnetic anomaly, Anderson headed the Squid southwest, toward the mysterious object that had long tantalized everyone on this mission.
Twenty minutes past and the forward scanning sonar picked up a signal that was unmistakably the object. As
The Squid looked glorious. It was hard not to fall in love with this sleek machine. As the crew stood around the Squid , Robison brought out his brown paper bag and with a flourish demanded everyone's attention.
"On this solemn occasion, I think that it is appropriate to celebrate the maiden voyage of the Squid . Therefore, as the mother, father, progenitor and care-taker of the creature we call the Squid , I hereby declare her operational. As a small memento of this moment, I had some shoulder patches and hats embroidered with the Squid insignia for each of you and the other members of this mission."
Someone produced a Polaroid camera and shot some photos of the momentous occasion.
The patch was beautiful. The royal blue patch was ringed with gold edging, the gold MacAlear logo was intertwined with the tentacles of a white Squid. Robison started to pass out the hats and the patches. Sevson stopped him, "Don't you think it would mean more if the whole kit 'n caboodle went to the bottom and then up?"
"Hey that's a good idea, why didn't I think of that?" said Robison.
"Because you're a dumb shit, Robison." explained Sevson with a grin.
Standing off to one side, in a loud stage whisper to Mike, McHugh growled, "Make sure none of that is charged to the United States Navy, Lieutenant Liu."
Having said that, McHugh made sure he got his patch which he put into the left breast pocket of his coveralls and his hat which he put on his head with a broad grin.
The brief ceremony completed, the men fell to the tasks at hand. The crew of the Squid climbed on board the submersible and disappeared one by one through the conning tower and into the pressure sphere. Carver, the last of the four man crew to board the Squid , pulled the hatch closed and locked the hatch. Having donned his SCUBA tank and face mask, Mike plugged the cable for the intercom into the receptacle on the Squid .
"How do you read me?" inquired Mike.
"Loud and clear, champ!"
The launching sequence went flawlessly and quickly. Within what seemed only minutes, the Squid was committed to the deep, Mike and the two MacAlear technicians watched as the white color of the submersible gently disappeared into the darkness.
The pinging of the depth sonar increased in frequency as the Squid spiraled toward the bottom. The Squid settled gently on the soft bottom, stirring up a cloud of silt, undisturbed for centuries in the quietness of the Hatteras Abyssal Plain. Until the silt settled, there was nothing that the crew could do but wait. Anderson switched on the outside lights for a second, but all they saw was the reflection of the dust cloud.
The time gave McHugh and Robison an opportunity to revisit the topographical maps drawn by McHugh's oceanographic team at Port Hueneme, California, from data collected by Nematode and the USS Marysville . The plan was for this team to reconnoiter the northern sector of the mysterious object. Liu and Sevson in a subsequent dive would explore the southern sector.
"From this map, it appears that we have landed about one half mile to the northeast of the object," said Robison making some rough calculations based on the Squid's descent time and current meter readings.
After the silt cloud had dissipated, Anderson adjusted his buoyancy and ever so slowly lifted off the bottom so as to not kick up any more silt. Taking his magnetic bearings, adjusted for the magnetic anomaly, Anderson headed the Squid southwest, toward the mysterious object that had long tantalized everyone on this mission.
Twenty minutes past and the forward scanning sonar picked up a signal that was unmistakably the object. As
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