My Journal

By Harriman Nelson

7

We’d already cleared the harbor, and submerged, heading into to ‘blue water’. But I needed a little sustenance before confronting Lee about not keeping me in the loop regarding his prosthesis.

After hobbling to the Wardroom, aided by my cane, (I found it easier to use than the crutch), I selected one of those mini cartons of corn flakes, (there wasn’t any sugar) and Cookie’s hastily concocted milk from that powdered stuff. Not that I wasn’t used to the reconstituted beverage; we used it a lot on longish cruises. But damn it, it was still tepid and there’s nothing less palatable in my humble opinion, than corn flakes with warm milk.

Will, my only breakfast companion, however, was happily consuming a childish blend of colorful fruit flavored cereal balls. (I think that procurement must have purchased the cereal at a discount a couple of years ago at the insistence of HR which had determined it would be cheerful for us when we were down deep below.) But this was the first time I’d ever seen it aboard. I had to wonder if the ‘use by’ date had already expired, not that Will seemed to have noticed anything wrong with it.

“All hands,” O’Brien’s voice over the PA interrupted my musings. “Brace for angles and dangles.”

Angles and dangles? What was Lee thinking about?

Almost immediately the boat began to lurch downwards at a steep angle. I had to grab my cereal and instant coffee (none of the real stuff had been in stores apparently) as they almost slid down the table. But the hot coffee did splash over the mug’s rim, burning my hand.

Will ignored  our cereal and coffee crashing to the deck and leaned over to check my hand. He half lurched, half reached over for some napkins and one of the bottles of water that was rolling on the railed sideboard.  He quickly soaked the napkins in the water and anointed my burn.

“We’ll need to tend to this in Sick Bay.”

“Not yet,” I said and half rose, hanging onto the edge of the table, and reached over to grab the bulkhead’s mike.

 “Control Room!” I yelled, “this is Nelson. Who authorized the angles and dangles? We were ordered to forget about any shakedown.”

“The skipper ordered them,” O’ Brien said.

“Well, belay them. They’re a damn nuisance!”

“Er, do you want to tell him, or me, sir? He’s aft, checking on  equipment and instrumentation with Mr. Morton right now. He should be back any minute.”

“I gave you an order, Mister. Now, bring this boat back up to an even keel. I’m the senior officer aboard. You don’t need his permission to do as I say.”

“Continue the angles and dangle, Frank,” Lee’s voice said gently in the background, apparently having just arrived, yet having overheard,  “then give her the reverse up angle.”

“You will do no such thing, Lee!” I roared.

“Sorry, Harry. No can  do right now….Have you had your coffee yet?”

Seaview suddenly tilted upwards before I could yell at him, and Will took the mike.

“Not much, Skipper,” he said, “his coffee spilled all over his hand when you began the exercise.”

“Is he okay?”

“The burn is minor but needs treatment.”

“So,” I ordered into the mike in Will’s hand, “stop putting Seaview through all these unnecessary calisthenics before someone else gets hurt!”

“Sharkey,” Lee said, “have we received any other complaints related to the maneuvers?”

“No sir,” Sharkey replied. “Not yet, anyway.”

I could hear the sympathy in his voice. Yes, Francis was pretty much ‘my’ man as Ski was Lee’s.

“Damn it, Lee!” I spat, “bring this boat back to an even keel!”

“Just a little while longer, Harry. By the way, anything decent enough to eat down there? Most of us haven’t had any breakfast yet.”

“I barely began mine, thanks to your damn maneuvering and….”

“Variety of cereals,” Will added before I could rip Lee to shreds, “instant oatmeal, reconstituted milk, instant coffee, instant cocoa, and potato chips.”

“Potato chips?”

“Yes, a heart clogging assortment of flavors and textures. Snack pack and economy sizes.”

“Be still my heart,” we heard Chip say.

“Skipper?” Sparks called out. “There’s a newscast about us, if anyone’s interested.”

“Pipe it through to all monitors,” Lee ordered.

The Wardroom monitor clicked on, but was difficult to watch from the angle, while I envisioned crewmen falling and rolling down the deck as the boat was almost upwardly vertical before crashing back down the other way. 

The broadcast was showing Seaview’s departure this morning. Lee’s prosthesis and rings were sparkling in the sunrise as his hands slid over the conning tower’s coaming lovingly.

Damn, he looked so happy with his Corvette Red submarine it was difficult to stay angry with him. But I forced myself. I was going to have it out with him one way or another. As soon as possible.

“….That was Seaview earlier this morning,” the reporter was saying,  “We’re unsure if those sections of red are some kind of special undercoat, or if Admiral Nelson finally caved in to the captain’s desire for a red submarine. After recent events, however, we have to wonder if the captain still wants a ‘scarlet lady’.”

“Mission details are limited,” another reporter began, “Seaview’s services have been requested for a ‘search, rescue, and repair’ of a prototype Australian submarine that went down in a deep trench a few hundred miles away from the country. We’re told that the Australian fleet is already headed toward its last reported position but is limited in that only Seaview has the  special capabilities that will be able to reach and work in those depths.”

“Turn it off, Sparks,” Lee ordered. “Report, Chip?”

“Inconclusive.”

“A couple more angles and dangles, then….”

“Lee~” I warned.

“We need to know what she can do. And…”he hesitated, then added, “you’re not in command right now, Harry. Of the boat, or the mission. In fact, you’re not even supposed to be aboard, remember.”

I heard O’Brien gasp. His Control Room companions probably did too, but only he must have been closest to the mike that Lee was using.

“But I am aboard, Captain,” I said coolly, “and it’s ‘admiral’ to you. Now, do as I say.”

“I’m afraid I have to decline your suggestion Har…Admiral.”

“He’s within his rights,” Will told me gently, checking my pulse.

“Very well, Captain,” I finally said. “But we’re going to have a little talk when your damn angles and dangles are finished. Or are you going to ignore that order as well?”

“About ten or fifteen minutes. Wardroom okay? I’m famished.”

“My cabin.”

“Harry…”

“My cabin!” I shouted and would have rammed the mike back into its bracket had Will not been still been holding it.

“I really hope I won’t have to patch him up from what I think you’re planning to do to him,” Will said as we managed to grope along the sideboard and table back to the bench seats. “What will it be, then,  pistols at dawn?”

“Worse. You’d better pass out the earplugs.”

As promised, the angles and dangles ended about fifteen minutes later but before heading to my cabin, Will insisted he treat my burn in Sick Bay. Under closer examination, he  verified that all I really needed was a special ointment regimen and a large burn bandage.

Lee was waiting for me in my cabin and stood to attention. Yes, he knew he was in for it.

“It’s against regs to enter my cabin without permission, isn’t it?” I asked as I sat down, leaving my cane behind the desk.

“You enter mine without any.”

That was true. More than he did mine.

“You’ll be happy to know that our repairs appear to have been completed to spec.”

“Goodie gumdrops.”

“How long will I be in the doghouse?”

“What do you think? Damn it, Lee, all I wanted was a little peace and quiet, with a level deck to keep my breakfast from sliding off the table. And you refused to even give me the courtesy due me as a senior officer to order a cease and desist! I own the boat, damn it!”

“So do I, and I’m responsible for her safety and the crew’s on this mission. There may be no real sub but we’re going to have to descend into the trench so the Aussies topside will pick us up on Sonar. They’ve been informed the ‘Anemone’ is sonar proof.  And Hewlett might pick us up as well as the trench isn’t too far away from the sea lab. We have to make it seem as if our mission is legit.”

He was right, of course. But I still hadn’t liked having been so blatantly overruled by a subordinate officer, co-owner of Seaview and of my heart, or not.

“If I’m still in the doghouse, are you putting me on bread and desalinated chlorinated water? Not that we have any bread. Not even the ingredients to make any….”

There was that puppy dog look again, even with Igor. Damn, it was impossible to stay as mad as I wanted to.

“Oh very well. But next time, give a guy a little more notice when you play ups and downs with your boat.”

“Right. Well, I’d better head to the Wardroom before Chip eats what’s left of the potato chips…”

“As captain, you do have another source at your disposal to prevent it.”

“Another source?” Lee asked, raising his eyebrows in confusion, then he realized what I’d meant and clicked the intercom. “All hands. This is the captain. For the duration of this cruise, second helpings or double dipping, so to speak, of our meals, is forbidden. To clarify, if you have a bowl of cereal, you cannot have a second, or add something else to it, The same applies to the instant coffee supply. One cup per man per meal, and two additional cups in a twenty four hour period. If you feel the possible caffeine withdrawal side effects such as headaches and grumpiness, see Doc for aspirin. Products such as potato chips are also rationed. One snack pack per day or equivalent amount from the economy bags. Crane  out.” Then he grabbed my cane and offered me his arm.

“C’mon, your earlier breakfast doesn’t count as seconds as it ended up feeding the deck.”

 “One thing more, Lee,” I said as I took his arm, “is there any more gadgetry in that Superman Eyeball of yours? And in  in your arm and leg that I can expect to see?”

“Afraid so. But I'm a little busy right now to test them all out...."

"Very well. But I expect a memo or demo when you can get around to it."

So, here I am a few hours later in the Nose, soaking up the noises from the Control Room. The beeps and pings are comforting in a way.

Not so the mutterings.

 Chip is complaining to Lee about the limitations on coffee.

Lee’s already consumed his own daily ration.

I am not looking forward to later when the caffeine crash happens to the both of them.