“You’re right, they are. We have a state of the art, FOAM system. It sprays a mixture of fire retardant foam and also causes a chemical reaction which makes the oil solidify into a naturally fire retardant barrier.”
Sam looked at the massive oil spill, now well alight surrounding the Mississippi oil tanker. “It doesn’t look like it worked.”
“Shortly after our initial collision with the rogue wave and while we were in the process of damage control, there was an explosion mid-ship. It must have severed the internal wiring. Otherwise our FOAM device would have gone off, and we wouldn’t have this disaster!”
“Is there any other way to trigger it?”
“Yes. There’s a manual option located at multiple workstations throughout the ship. If you could reach the closest one to the hole in the ship, you could effectively shut down the entire leak. Not that it matters now.”
“Why not?”
“Because it would be impossible to reach.”
Sam’s blue eyes sparkled with infinite possibilities. “How impossible?”
“Well, given that the entire top deck is now alight there’s no way to reach the safety valves. That is, unless you feel like swimming beneath the surface flame for about half a mile until you reach the hole in the hull.”
“I don’t know about a feeling like it. But, I wouldn’t call it impossible. How many barrels of crude oil did you say she’s carrying?”
“Two million barrels.”
Sam smiled. “That’s a lot of oil if I can save it.”
The man shook his head. “That’s a lot of crazy even contemplating returning to the ship.”
But the man didn’t realize just how lucky some crazy people were.
Chapter Fifty Nine
Sam landed on the helipad situated on the aft deck of the Maria Helena. Tom met him as the rotor blades began their tedious process of winding down. Genevieve was standing next to him. Closer than Sam expected. Not like they were an item, but as though, for him, she’d removed the safety barrier of personal space that she normally maintained. Matthew must have fetched them out of the water minutes after he left them there.
Tom shook his right hand as he climbed down from the cockpit. “Did you get everyone off?”
“Yeah. We got lucky,” Sam replied.
“You always do.”
Sam started walking towards the dive room. Veyron approached him. “Come with me. We have work to do. You too, Tom.”
Tom followed.
“Veyron — what do you know about fixed deck foam systems and oil solidifiers?”
“Under SOLAS, I know that all oil tankers are required to have automated fixed deck foam systems in place.” Veyron looked at the burning deck of the Mississippi in the distance. “This one appears not to be fitted with one.”
“The captain assures me it is fitted with one, though. Says the control lines were severed during the initial collision. Do you think he’s lying?”
“It’s possible, but highly bad luck. I’d say being the fourth cargo ship in as many weeks to be destroyed by a “one in three trillion” odds rogue wave already says something about this captain’s luck.”
Genevieve handed Sam a cold glass of water. Then whispered to Tom, “What’s SOLAS?”
“It’s the convention governing the Safety of Life at Sea,” Sam replied. “And I want to know if the Mississippi was abiding by its obligations, and just unlucky — or if it had plain refused to obey them.”
Veyron answered for him. “It’s possible the system broke. There will be an investigation — one way or another, the truth will be obvious. So there’s no reason for the captain to lie.”
Sam stopped at the dive planning room, across from the moon pool on the fifth level below the decks of the Maria Helena. He sat down and pulled out a pen and a piece of paper. “Good. Now. Tell me about oil solidifiers.”
“What do you want to know?” Veyron, like all good engineers, needed specifics.
Sam crossed his arms. “The Mississippi was supposed to have a state of the art system installed inside each oil compartment. The system was meant to stop an oil from leaking into the ocean.”
“I’d say it didn’t work,” Veyron replied.
“No. The captain tells me that some bright spark in their ultimate stupidity thought to run the cables controlling the solidifiers alongside with the ones that controlled the fixed deck foam system.” Sam looked at Veyron and Tom. Genevieve had already left. They both looked incredulous. “The captain says the system can be activated from inside the hull. So the question is, how well could this system possibly work in our current situation?”
Realization dawned on Tom. “No, no you don’t. I see what you want. The question is entirely moot — the whole deck of the Mississippi is now aflame.”
Sam uncrossed his arms. “So I hear. But both systems can be activated from deep inside the hull. The hull has been compromised and not only is it leaking oil, it’s also taking on water. That means there’s a perfectly good access point somewhere beneath all that furnace — if only we knew of someone capable of accessing a ship from thirty feet below.”
“You must be crazy!” Veyron said.
“She’s carrying three hundred million gallons of crude oil. That’s a lot of oil we can save from destroying the ocean. Besides, the captain tells me his owners have now kindly agreed to Lloyds Open Form.”
Veyron shook his head. “That’s a lot of crazy — even for you.”
Chapter Sixty
Sam downloaded the schematics for the Mississippi onto his computer tablet which he took on all his dives. If he pulled this crazy stunt off, he didn’t want to find he’d screwed it up because he activated the wrong system, or couldn’t locate it altogether.
He prepared his equipment. A single dive tank. Carbon fiber and custom fitted to mold with his torso. Unlike a conventional tank he wore this one wrapped around him instead of as a large cylinder on his back. It would offer some protection if he collided with the lethally sharp edges of the scarred opening on the hull. Filled to 300 BAR, it would provide him with nearly two hours of breathe time at the shallow depth. Sam knew he wouldn’t need anywhere near that much time. If he did, he’d have already failed.
His plan was to take a Sea Scooter 6000 with Bi-Jet Dive Propulsion to the stricken supertanker. Depending on the size of the rupture to its hull, he might get lucky and be able to drive right in. If he’s not, he’d have to dump the Sea Scooter, and do it the old fashioned way. Either way, it would be the fastest way to reach it. Matthew had advised him the slick of burning surface oil was now nearly a mile out from the Mississippi.
Sam placed his full-faced helmet over his head and breathed in. He looked at his dive computer. There was ample gas. All systems appeared to be in order.
He pressed his push to talk radio button. “Matthew, how far off the oil slick are we?”
“You’ll be right to dive in approximately one minute.”
“Good.” Sam moved towards the moon pool. Dangling his legs into the water.
Tom entered the room and sat down next to him. Sam looked at his friend. He was equipped to dive and held his own Sea Scooter in his left hand. “Mind if I join you?”
“Oh Christ Tom! I thought I told you that this was a stupid idea, and I didn’t want to risk your life.”
Tom placed his helmet over his head and locked it in place. “My life — are you kidding me? You know that I’m only here to stop you getting yourself killed. How many times must I save your life before you learn to keep me close by?”
Sam began to complain. “I thought we were even…”