Operation Arctic Sting, page 8
Harry and Sergyi retrieved two thick metal bars from their leg pockets and attached them to the port-side lines to shorten the lines by rolling them up on the bars. The strain caused by the pod was light enough that this was easily accomplished. As they slowly lowered the port side of the pod, Whitey and Jake pulled down on the starboard lines to keep the pod vertical. As they cranked the pod downward, increasing water pressure forced more water into the pod, making it less buoyant. They continued this process until the pod was floating two feet above the anchor points and was nearly at neutral buoyancy.
While they focused on the task, they did not notice the arrival of several narwhals and a couple of belugas. Their first awareness was when a particularly curious beluga rose off the bottom on the port side of the Alfa to examine closely what Sergyi was doing with his metal bar. The cetacean startled Sergyi so that he dropped his bar and then pulled down on it as he grabbed it again, cussing profusely in Ukrainian. His helium and pressure-modified stream of unintelligible words gave us no end of amusement in Dive Control. The sudden lowering of Sergyi’s bar caused a sudden increase in water pressure at the hatch, and the pod suddenly became significantly heavier. Both Harry and Sergyi pushed away from the sail to avoid being trapped between the edges of the pod and sail. As the pod tilted to port, Whitey and Jake took a strain on their lines, digging their heels into the sandy bottom, forcing the pod back to vertical. Wally had backed the Basketball off to take in the larger picture. He focused first on Harry and Sergyi and then on Whitey and Jake.
As the events unfolded at the Alfa, we watched with bated breath in Dive Control, not saying anything that might distract the divers from regaining control of the situation.
As things seemed to be back under control, Bill asked, “Harry, what is your status?”
“Damn fool beluga knocked the bar out of Sergyi’s hands,” Harry squeaked. “He grabbed the bar and pulled it down…too far. We’re okay now. We’re going to close the hatch to keep this from happening again.”
As he said this, Jer swam to the hatch with the HP hose still in his grip and secured it. The pod had a very small amount of positive buoyancy, keeping it out of the diver’s way as they struggled to cinch the anchor lines.
I activated my mike. “Harry, is there an ingress access on the side of the sail?”
“I dunno,” he squeaked, “Check it out, Jer.”
“I found one, aft on the starboard side,” Jer said. “My knife won’t open it. Looks like it needs a T-shaped wrench.”
“Harry,” I said over the circuit, “send Sergyi to the DDC to pick up a T-wrench. I’m telling you over the umbilical, so I don’t put any noise into the water with the water-born circuit.”
Ski rummaged through the DDC toolbox and found a T-wrench. He handed it to Sergyi when he stuck his head up through the hatch. As he left, a curious narwhal approached the hatch and rolled over to look inside. Then it followed Sergyi back to the Alfa, rubbing his legs with its tusk. By this time, the divers had gotten used to narwhal antics. When one of the curious cetaceans rubbed his tusk against a part of their bodies, they knew he was just checking them out, like a dog sniffing or a cat rubbing.
Jer opened the access and worked himself inside. “The tie downs were secured with explosive bolts,” he said. “Each tie down has an integrated U-bolt. We can attach the anchor cables with six-inch turnbuckles.”
I looked at Ham. “Chief Daley should have a ready supply,” Ham said, picking up the sound-powered phone. Five minutes later, he gave me a thumbs-up.
I called Harry. “Send Sergyi back to the DDC again for the turnbuckles.”
The divers had been in the water for four hours as they tightened the turnbuckles and wrapped up the operation. The Alfa was whole again, although the pod could not be released because it was no longer held in place with explosive bolts. Otherwise, however, we were ready to move forward.
During much of the operation, narwhals and belugas came and went, apparently returning to a nearby polynya to replenish their air. The five divers were returning to Teuthis, swimming several feet over the bottom, four carrying the polypropylene line, and Jer holding onto the working end of the HP air hose while Ski retrieved it through the DDC hatch. A fifteen-foot-long beluga swam with them off to their left. Wally kept the Basketball over them, supplying light as they covered the 200 feet.
Wally saw it first. Out of the darkness to their left toward shore, a twenty-five-foot Orca slammed into the beluga’s side, tearing out a massive lump of flesh. The divers were still fifty feet from the hatch.
“Drop everything!” I ordered. “Grab Sergyi’s harness and push hard. In the DDC, haul the umbilicals with maximum effort. MOVE!” Then I turned to Wally. “Wally, place the Basketball between the Orca and the divers. Shine the light into his eyes. Do your best to distract him.”
Instead of attacking the Basketball, however, the Orca brought his right eye right up to the Basketball and gave it a careful once over. Apparently, he decided the Basketball had no food value. During those seconds, the mortally wounded beluga struggled away toward our bow. Instead of going after the fleeing divers, the Orca dashed toward the smaller whale. Wally turned the Basketball to follow the larger whale with his light. As we watched, the Orca engulfed the fifteen-foot beluga’s tail and removed it with one clean bite. The beluga ceased struggling, and the Orca spent several minutes feeding before he darted over Teuthis toward the surface and a polynya somewhere nearby to the south.
With the five divers inside the DDC, I decided to leave the four polypropylene lines on the bottom. We could retrieve them on our next outside excursion.
As Wally was stowing the Basketball, the Orca returned. Wally pulled the Basketball up over Teuthis for a better look. First, the Orca took another bite from the slaughtered beluga—a large chunk from what remained of its lower back. Then it located one of the poly lines. To my surprise, using its lips, it picked up the bitter end of one line and shook it around like a shark shakes prey in its jaws. The line whipped around in the water, and the Orca seemed to be playing with it. Eventually, it swam off, trailing the line from its mouth like a dog or cat guarding a favorite toy.
USS TEUTHIS—BOTTOMED AT THE ALFA
The XO came off what would have been my watch just as we completed the in-water portion of the dive ops. He came down to Dive Control.
“Nice job, Petty Officer Dubbs,” he said to Wally. “I suspect some of that footage will redefine Orca behavior.” He turned to Ham and me. “I watched your guys handle the pod. I can’t really offer enough praise.” He smiled and looked directly at me. “You must be very proud of your team.”
“I am, Sir, but the credit goes to Master Chief Comstock.” I placed my hand on Ham’s shoulder. “His hard work for the past two years made this team what it is.”
The XO shook Ham’s hand. “Well done, Master Chief!”
The sound-powered phone trilled. Ham picked it up. “Officer’s call in ten minutes in the Wardroom,” he said.
“That’s my cue to reassume the watch in Control,” the XO said with a grin as he departed Dive Control.
The sound-powered phone trilled again. Ham answered and then said, “The Captain wants Spook and me there as well.”
“We are about to do something that has never been done before,” the skipper said to the assembled officers, including Ham, Senior Chief Jones, Senior Chief Dokey, and Chief Panner. In addition to the ship’s crew members, the four DIA specialists and Sergyi Andreev were present. First Class Yeoman Brad Roman sat at the table, taking careful notes for the ship’s log. What he wrote in his hardcovered green notebook would be the official record of this meeting.
“During the next two hours, you gentlemen will assemble everything you believe we will possibly need to make the Alfa underway-ready, capable of transiting under the winter Arctic ice to Electric Boat. Commander McDowell will serve as Captain, Chief Warrant Officer Cobb will serve as Executive Officer. You will have to keep the Alfa running on the batteries, which is why I have chosen Chief Warrant Officer Cobb, Senior Chiefs Jones and Dokey, and Chief Panner to be part of the crew.
“The Alfa is more completely automated than any other Soviet sub. The five of you,” he indicated the Navy guys, “should be able to drive the sub while getting sufficient sleep to retain your effectiveness—assuming, of course, that nothing serious goes wrong. You DIA people and you, Sergyi, will keep the Alfa and her equipment running. Under Commander McDowell’s supervision, you can also participate in driving the sub. Teuthis will always be nearby, so we can assist with parts, personnel, or whatever else you may need. Should this become necessary, remember that it will take us at least a half-hour to launch Mystic and get her over to you.
“Since you will be on battery ops continuously, you will have to stop to charge the battery bank—probably every twenty-four hours or so. You’ll be able to lock this down better after a couple of charge cycles. Each charge will require dive ops, so we want to charge as shallow as possible—even right up under the ice canopy, if we can do this.
“Master Chief Comstock, I am relying on you to step into Commander McDowell’s shoes so he can focus entirely on his command responsibilities on the Alfa. What is Chief Fisher’s qualification status?”
“Except for his final test—something we need to do in port so we can throw every kind of problem at him—he is as ready as he will ever be, Captain.”
I saw this coming, but I am not entirely sure Ham did.
“Very well. As of now, I am temporarily assigning Chief Petty Officer William Fisher as the Command Master Saturation Diver, and I am reassigning you, Master Chief Petty Officer Hamilton Comstock, as the Officer-in-Charge of TOG—the Test Operations Group. Your primary responsibility during our transit will be to have at least two divers available for each charging event, and when the time comes, have your divers install the false sail. Any questions, Master Chief?”
Ham glanced at me briefly, but I couldn’t read his face. “No, Sir, but if I have any going forward, you will be the first to know.”
Right answer, I thought, giving Ham a nod.
The oxygen candles had been loaded into Mystic in Woman’s Bay. We needed food and water on the Alfa, and two pieces of absolutely essential equipment, the Secure Gertrude unit and the secure depth-sounder. And we had to attach the transducer inside the Alfa’s damaged nosecone and replace her fathometer transducer with our secure depth-sounder head.
We anticipated a thirty-one-day trip to Electric Boat and had loaded 930 LRP rations in Woman’s Bay. Each meal required 1 ½ pints of water—that’s about thirty five-gallon water bottles—just to reconstitute the freeze-dried main dishes. We loaded sixty bottles to be sure we had sufficient for drinking and washing.
By the time we were ready to go, Mystic was loaded to the gills with oxygen candles, LRPs, water bottles, and the tools and equipment my crew thought we needed.
I said my good-byes to Ham and the divers and the skipper, who came to the Engine Room to see us off. We settled into our places, such as they were, scattered among the cargo. Taggert released the clamps, and we were off.
Kate’s journey on USS Los Angeles from Kodiak Island to Mare Island
CHAPTER SEVEN
Kate’s Journal—1
USS TEUTHIS—UNDERWAY FROM WOMAN’S BAY
I can’t really begin to describe everything that’s happened to me since I met Mac. From the moment we touched hands in the café next to my shop, I knew we had something special. Things got very personal after that, and I’m not going to discuss it any further here.
When Mac left the next day, I didn’t think I could bear it. I was terrified that he wouldn’t come back—but he did. I got to participate in the secret awards ceremony. My heart swelled with pride as I watched my guy receive personal accolades from the Secretary of the Navy, no less.
As long as I live, I will never forget the following morning. In a flash, I lost everything—my home, my car, my shop. All I had left was Mac. His cool, his fearless response to the terror inflicted on us, gave me the strength and the courage to carry on. With Jack’s help, we got through that awful day and night, and then everything changed.
It all started when Jack’s telephone call woke Mac up in the middle of the night. Next thing I knew, Mac and I threw on some warm clothing and ran out of the house into a pickup driven by one of Jack’s guys. Moments later, my house and car exploded! We raced to Jack’s boat. While we boarded, somebody shot at us, and again as we departed! Thank God, they missed! Jack drove us over to Woman’s Bay, and then suddenly Mac and I were on Teuthis, Mac’s submarine. I had nothing except what was in my purse and the clothing I was wearing—absolutely nothing else. The Commanding Officer, Cmdr. (that’s the Navy abbreviation for Commander) Roken, arranged for me to get suitable clothing and personal effects, and made me feel as at home as possible for a woman on a submarine in the midst of danger.
I stayed out of the way for the rest of the day while the crew prepared the sub to leave Kodiak. Mac had the evening off, so we went ashore, and Jack took us to Breaker’s Bar, where I had a chance to say goodbye to friends, and then Jack invited us to stay at his place overnight.
We had a wonderful Salmon dinner, and Mac and I had an unforgettable night together. I won’t go into details about that. In the middle of a huge breakfast Jack prepared for us the next morning, guys started shooting at us again! Jack and I hid under the table as Mac sprang to action. I am SO grateful that Mac was there to defend us!
Then we were back onboard Teuthis, and I had to say goodbye to my dear friend, Jack. Cmdr. Roken must have pulled some strings with his superiors because we were soon safely on our way to sea, with ME aboard!
After we were underway, I got to drive the sub—my, how exciting that was. I so admire the men who do this every day. I met King, that’s Chief Sonar Tech Royal Bennett, but everyone calls him King. Talk about an expert; this guy knows just about everything there is to know about sonar—that’s a submarine’s way of seeing underwater using sound. He even let me listen to and track a couple of contacts. I could be good at this, but women are not allowed to serve on submarines.
We were being stalked by a Soviet sub, Shchuka, one of the best they have, King told me. Then USS Los Angeles showed up to take the heat off us. Mac told me that would soon be my ride to safety in the U.S.
USS TEUTHIS—SUBMERGED OFF KODIAK ISLAND
While Los Angeles was distracting Shchuka, we dove down to a thousand feet and settled on a ledge overlooking the Aleutian Trench. Mac told me that the trench followed the Aleutian Island chain and dropped down to over 22,000 feet.
We remained on the ledge for quite some time. Mac and I were able to enjoy each other’s company in the Wardroom, mostly undisturbed. Although we had no chance for genuine private time, the other officers respected our privacy and kept away from the Wardroom. Should I lose Mac on his forthcoming mission (Oh God, don’t let that happen!), I will always have this time together to hold close.
Finally, but all too soon, Cmdr. Roken told us that Los Angeles was nearby and that it was time to transfer me.
Mac and I walked through the sub to the Engine Room, stopping to chat briefly with friends I had made during my short time aboard Teuthis. Then it was time to climb up the vertical ladder into the Deep Submergence Rescue Vehicle, Mystic. It seemed so tiny compared to the sub. Lt. Bob Taggert let me sit in the co-pilot’s seat and even let me handle Mystic once we were underway.
There is no light at all at a thousand feet, but since Mystic had no windows, I couldn’t see that. She did have several television cameras, including a color one that looked forward. Our beams of light disappeared in the clear water, but the light formed bright circles on the hull of Los Angeles as we approached. The Los Angeles was huge, much bigger than Teuthis, floating a thousand feet below the surface and 21,000 feet above the Aleutian Trench floor. This was, without a doubt, the most exciting thing I had done in my whole life.
Bob settled Mystic onto the deck, and then his people made the seal. The next thing I knew, I was stepping down into the fast-attack submarine USS Los Angeles. Commanding Officer, Cmdr. Archibald Desmond was there to greet me. He was a lovely man who became very much like a father to me.
Mac and I went to Cmdr. Desmond’s cabin where Mac briefed him on why I had become his high-priority passenger. He asked me about my story. I probably gushed, but I told him all about Mac and how he rescued me from my own personal isolation and from the very real threat of the Kodiak sleeper cell. Then the captain got a phone call.
He said Shchuka was getting closer and that Los Angeles had to depart the area. He stood. “I’ll leave you two alone for a minute,” he said, “but then, Mac, you need to hustle aft and get the hell off my boat!” He winked as he shut the door.
I cried as I kissed Mac goodbye, but I’m a girl, and I’m allowed.
USS LOS ANGELES—NORTH PACIFIC
I remained in the Captain’s Cabin for a while. Things were happening, but I didn’t know what they were, and I knew that I should keep out of the way. We took a pretty steep down-angle, and then we leveled off, and things got quiet—not like ultra-quiet on Teuthis, but really quiet with a soft hissing and the subdued hums from the equipment in Control.
Finally, Cmdr. Desmond returned with another officer. “Kate, this is my Executive Officer, Lieutenant Commander Lew Brockhurst. He and I are the only officers on the sub with private staterooms. Lew is relinquishing his to you for the duration.”
That floored me. “I can’t do that, Commander.”
“It’s really our only option,” the XO (that’s short for Executive Officer) said. “The officer’s staterooms all accommodate three officers, so we can’t put you in one of those. The Goat Locker—the Chief’s quarters—have no private accommodations. The crew bunk six to a curtained space, so that’s out.”
