The deck of the control room tilted forward and to port as USS Albany heeled hard into the ordered dive and turn. The maneuver was executed amid a babble of half-shouted acknowledgements. Somewhere in the process, two muffled thumps announced the launch of the ordered countermeasures.
The noisemaker and decoy were not intended for the incoming torpedo, Ernie knew that. Supercavs move so fast that their own hydrodynamic noise makes the effective use of sonar impossible. The enemy supercav would never see the noisemaker or the mobile decoy. The Skipper was deploying the countermeasures to confuse the enemy submarine, in case it was lining the Albany up for a second shot.
The Sonar Supervisor’s voice came over the 29MC again. “Conn — Sonar. Hydrophone effects now bearing three-three-seven! Master-One is showing pronounced zig!”
The enemy sub was maneuvering, probably pouring on the speed. That was no surprise, with a pair of 48 ADCAPs on its ass.
The important part of the report was the bearing to the incoming torpedo. Three-three-seven meant two degrees of right bearing drift. As a rule, a weapon that’s going to hit you will maintain a CBDR alignment, short for “Constant Bearing, Decreasing Range.” Meaning that the weapon is heading straight toward you and it’s getting closer.
The incoming supercav wasn’t maintaining constant bearing. It was showing some bearing drift. Not very much. Just a couple of degrees. But some.
Was it enough? Ernie didn’t know. For an acoustic homing torpedo, two degrees was nowhere near enough bearing drift to cause a miss. For a straight running supercav? Maybe.
The 29MC came to life again. “Conn — Sonar. Hydrophone effects bearing three-three-nine!”
Bearing drift was up to four degrees now. Still not a lot, but four was better than two.
Someone started murmuring softly. It took a second or so for Ernie to recognize the quiet tumble of words as a prayer. He didn’t look around for the source. He just hoped that the petitioner, whoever he was, had a good relationship with the big guy upstairs. Maybe good enough to get all of their asses out of this fix.
The enemy torpedo was close enough now to be heard with their bare ears, a rising jet engine shriek that reverberated through the hull at painful intensity. The sound escalated wildly in volume as the torpedo shot toward them at some ungodly speed.
In mere seconds, the noise reached a roaring ear-splitting crescendo that was as terrifying as it was deafening.
And then it was past, the jet engine wail receding as the enemy weapon reached its closest point of approach and began moving away.
How close had the deadly machine come to the Albany’s hull? Twenty yards? Ten? Less than that?
The Skipper wasn’t distracted by such details. “Sonar — Conn. What’s the status of contact Master-One?”
The response lacked the Sonar Supervisor’s usual gift for brevity. “Conn — Sonar. Master-One transitioned to supercav mode just a few seconds after our 48s went hot. He’s still running north at high speed. I estimate triple digits, but it will take a couple of minutes to work out a decent calculation.”
“Conn, aye. Keep a close watch for any sign of a course change. If the contact turns back to reengage, I need to know about it immediately.”
“Conn — Sonar. Understood, sir. We’ll stay on him, but I don’t think he’s coming back. We surprised him with our 48s. He’s getting as far away from us as possible.”
“Conn, aye.”
Captain Townsend released his mike button and let out a long and careful breath. He turned toward Ernie with a look of total incredulity on his face, as though he couldn’t quite believe that any of them were still alive. “Holy shit, COB, I don’t know how we got out of that.”
“I don’t know either, sir,” Ernie said. “But if I had to bet money, I’d say it was the dive that saved our butts.”
“I gave about six different orders,” the Skipper said. “Why do you think it was the dive that did the trick?”
“Reasonable assumption, sir,” said Ernie. “The Mahan and the Winterburn were Arleigh Burkes. Gas turbine propulsion, plenty of speed, and they corner like sports cars. When they detected the incoming supercavs, I figure both ships must have done exactly what we did — kick up to flank, throw the rudder hard over, and dodge like hell. The only difference is, we were able to change position in three dimensions. Surface ships can only maneuver in two.”
“You might be right,” the Skipper said, “but I wouldn’t want to count on it working twice.”
Ernie said nothing.
The Skipper shook his head. “How do we sink this bastard, COB? That’s our mission, but I don’t have the foggiest notion of how to kill a submarine that can run circles around our fastest weapons.”
“I don’t know either, sir,” said Ernie. He let the second half of his response go unspoken.
‘And I have no idea how to keep this fucker from killing us.’
CHAPTER 48
In 1832, French engineer Brutus de Villeroi built a submarine, which he dubbed the Nautilus, possibly in reference to Fulton’s earlier craft.
De Villeroi’s Nautilus was 10 feet 6 inches long, with a submerged displacement of about six tons. Crewed by three men, she was propelled by “duck-foot paddles.” The ballast system consisted of a lever and piston mechanism that’s not clearly described in available writings.
The first demonstration occurred on August 13, 1832, off the coast of France. Observing were representatives of the French government, from whom de Villeroi hoped to obtain financial support.
He later demonstrated the Nautilus for officials of the Kingdom of the Netherlands, in another failed bid for government backing.
Unable to find patronage in Europe, de Villeroi immigrated to the United States. In May of 1861, he launched a larger submarine, built for salvage operations. The sub was seized by the Philadelphia police as it sailed (half-submerged) up the Delaware River.
The first shots of the American Civil War had been fired only a few weeks earlier. Tensions and suspicions were at fever pitch. Concerned that this unfamiliar vessel might be a Confederate sabotage device, the Philadelphia police asked the U.S. Navy to investigate.
Commander Henry Hoff was dispatched from Naval Station Philadelphia to examine the submarine. Hoff’s written report brought Brutus de Villeroi to the attention of senior U.S. Navy leadership, and led to the kind of government patronage he’d been seeking for decades.
On November 1, 1861, he signed a contract with the U.S. Navy to build a submarine for use against Confederate ironclads and other naval targets. Construction was subcontracted to a Philadelphia shipbuilding firm under the supervision of de Villeroi.
The new craft was 30 feet long and 8 feet in diameter, built from riveted iron plating, with thick circular glass ports penetrating the upper deck. Her hull was painted sea green, for camouflage and to minimize corrosion of the iron. Propulsion consisted of sixteen paddles to be operated by eight oarsmen.