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The Wireless Operator—With the U. S. Coast Guard/Chapter 3

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4534976The Wireless Operator—With the U. S. Coast Guard — The Search for the DerelictLewis Edwin Theiss


CHAPTER III

The Search for the Derelict

SO overjoyed was Henry at his sudden good fortune that he wanted to throw up his hat and cheer. But he knew that would never do. To hide the emotion that was struggling for expression, he stepped into the little stateroom that the commander now indicated was to be his, and so keen was his interest in this that he promptly forgot his desire to make a noise.

The captain’s cabin was in the after part of the ship, and the little staterooms, for there were two of them, occupied the very stern. These staterooms were twin compartments, one for the captain and one for his guests. A narrow passageway divided them. Each stateroom contained a snug-looking bunk, with a round air-port, or window, just above it, like a huge eye; and there was also a wardrobe, and a dresser with a mirror above it. Each stateroom, likewise, led into a private bathroom, as comfortably equipped as any similar room on land. The enormously high sides of the bathtub at once caught Henry’s attention, and he rightly guessed that these were to prevent water from slopping out of the tub when the ship was plunging in the waves. As soon as he had examined his quarters, he unpacked his little case, stowing his few articles of clothing in the dresser. Then he stepped back into the cabin to have a look at that.

Fortunately, the captain had gone on deck, and Henry was free to examine things to his heart’s content. The cabin would have filled the heart of any boy with delight. Occupying a cross section of the after part of the ship, it reached from side to side of the vessel, with rows of round air-ports on either side letting in air and light, and giving a view out over the water. Along either wall, directly under these air-ports, were leather-cushioned seats, where one could sit or lie at ease. In the centre of the room was a square oak table, now covered with a soft green felt cover. A sideboard was built into one side of the cabin, and Henry was interested to note how all the goblets and dishes were secured so that they could not fall from their places. Closets were also built into the sides of the room, and one corner was occupied by the captain’s desk, with his typewriter fixed on a movable shelf attached thereto. Doors led mysteriously into other parts of the ship, one of which, Henry later found, opened into the cabin of the captain’s steward or mess attendant. And of course there were comfortable chairs and electric lights everywhere, and books in a case, and some silver cups that Henry found had been won by the crew of the Iroquois at the annual manœuvres of the Coast Guard fleet at Cape May, and so many other snug and interesting things that he thought this was indeed the most delightful place he had ever been in. And now that the captain was not present, he wanted more than ever to give a loud whoop or two.

It is altogether likely that he would have done so, too, had he not just then heard the clang of the motor-boat’s bell alongside, and in another moment footsteps sounded in the companionway. Then the captain entered the cabin, followed by a tall, muscular-looking officer in full uniform.

“Mr. Harris,” said the captain, “this is my young friend, Henry Harper. He is going to be my guest for a few days. Henry, this is my executive officer, Mr. Harris.”

The two shook hands, and Henry knew at once that he was going to like the tall, frank-looking sailor before him. Honesty was written all over his face, and his wide-set blue eyes were as kindly as they were fearless. The moment he had finished greeting Henry, he turned to his chief expectantly.

“I just got a wireless order to destroy a derelict that was sighted off Nantucket Shoals, well offshore. Suppose you ask the chief engineer to get the ship under way at once, Mr. Harris.”

As the executive officer turned to go, the captain continued: “I don’t like the looks of the weather. Fog may shut down at any moment. We want to get out to sea before it catches us, if possible. So tell him to drive her hard.”

“Very well, sir.” And the captain’s right-hand man stepped out of the cabin.

“Henry,” said the captain, “I had better introduce you to the other officers at once. I’ll be busy in a little while, and might forget about it. Come into the wardroom with me.”

The captain was hard on the heels of the retiring executive officer. Henry followed his host through the companionway door, but instead of mounting the steps, the captain entered a second door directly opposite his own at the foot of the staircase, and Henry, following, found himself in the wardroom, or living-room, for the other commissioned officers. This was immediately forward of the captain’s cabin, and was not unlike it in size and furnishings. Several men in uniform sat about a table in the centre of the room, reading magazines, playing solitaire, or otherwise amusing themselves. All arose as the captain entered.

“Gentlemen,” said the commander, “this is Henry Harper, who is to be my guest for a few days.” Then the captain made Henry acquainted with each man separately, naming them as Chief Engineer Farley, Lieutenant Hill, Ensign Maxwell, and Dr. Drake, whom Henry had already met, although he did not until this time know his name.

“We're short-handed, as you see,” said the captain, “but I guess we'll manage to operate the ship anyhow.” And with a pleasantry or two, he withdrew. The executive officer delivered the captain’s order, and all the officers, hearing it, went to their stations.

“What did the captain mean when he said you were short-handed?” Henry asked the doctor.

“Oh! We don’t have our full complement of officers. We lack a junior engineer officer and a junior lieutenant. It makes it a little hard, because the officers we do have must perform extra duty.”

While they were talking Henry suddenly became conscious of a curious vibration in the ship, and a low, rumbling noise that filled the air. He suspected that the ship’s propeller must be turning. The ensign confirmed his suspicion when he said: “We’re moving. Would you like to go on deck and see how we get under way?”

Henry did not know it, but the ensign was quite as eager to see as Henry himself could possibly be. The ensign was fresh from the Coast Guard Academy, and this was his first trip as a commissioned officer. Henry was grateful for the courtesy, and gladly followed the young officer up the companionway.

“Come up on the bridge,” said the ensign. “As the captain’s guest, you will be free to go anywhere. We can see better there.”

Interesting as the sights about them were, the things to be seen on deck were even more interesting to Henry. And he made his way forward very leisurely, as he took the first good look at the Iroquois he had had opportunity to take. He noted that the after-deck, from the companionway to the taffrail, was entirely clear and open, and was roofed over with a tightly stretched awning. Amidships towered the smoke-stack. And here, too, was an array of skylights and ventilators, all open now, but so arranged, Henry saw, that in time of rough weather they could be securely battened down. And there were iron doors leading directly downward into the bowels of the ship. One of them was the door through which Henry had descended to the fireroom. Close by the after companionway rose a stately mast. High up on it was the barrel-like “crow’s-nest,” for a lookout aloft. And forward, just behind the wheelhouse, towered a second mast, also with a crow’s-nest, and with signal lamps on a cross-arm. Immediately Henry caught sight of the wireless antennæ stretched between these two masts, and his practiced eye noted every detail of the wiring, and traced the lead-in wire downward to a room beneath the wheelhouse. Amidships, along either rail, hung three or four lifeboats, swung outboard over the side of the ship, and lashed fast to big horizontal spars or strongbacks with stout rope shackles called gripes, so that they were held immovable, as in a vice. And here and there along the rails circular life buoys were fastened or “stopped” with short pieces of rope.

But before Henry could take in any more details, his companion had mounted a ladder that led directly to the bridge, where the captain had already taken his station.

The bridge was a steel structure, reaching from side to side of the ship, and raised high above the deck, so that an unobstructed view could be had of everything. It was railed in with strong, iron rails, reaching breast-high. Stout canvas covers were fastened all around it, extending from the floor almost to the level of the eyes, excepting immediately in front of the wheelhouse, where they were fastened lower. This was the weather cloth, to shut off the wind; and, as Henry was to learn, it was a welcome aid to the navigator. Compasses were balanced on strong pedestals at either side of the bridge, and there were various levers, to use in blowing the ship’s siren, and for other purposes as well, though, of course, Henry did not yet know what they were for, any more than he understood that the Franklin metal life-belts, or buoys, that hung at either end of the bridge could be dropped overboard by a single motion of the hand, and that when they struck the water the queer-looking tubes projecting from them would shoot out lights that would burn for a long period, showing persons struggling in the sea which way to swim for safety.

At present Henry was wholly engrossed in the action that was taking place before him. The ship was moving gently through the water. The anchor had been partly heaved up by the little hoisting engine on the forward deck, but in heaving it, the chain had become twisted around one of the movable flukes, so that the stem of the anchor could not be properly heaved in through the hawse hole. A warrant officer in uniform, and a small group of sailors, leaned over the bow rail, trying to release the fouled anchor. A slender rope ladder had been lowered over the side, and on this a sailor was creeping down to the anchor that hung partly in the water, with a small rope in his hand. The rope he cautiously slipped around a fluke, so that the anchor could be tilted up.

“That’s the boatswain, Mr. Johnson,” said the ensign, indicating the warrant officer in charge of the sailors.

Presently the anchor was freed. The boatswain signaled to the man at the hoisting engine, and slowly the huge anchor-chain was heaved taut, with the flukes of the anchor drawn up tight against the hawse hole. The moment the anchor was lifted free of the water, the boatswain notified the captain, who immediately signaled the engineer to crowd on steam. At once the vibration of the ship became more noticeable. Faster and faster she began to surge through the water, and presently she was steaming at top speed toward the open sea.

On some other occasion, perhaps, Henry would have centred his attention on the views without, but now he was wholly occupied with the mysteries of this wonderful ship, so he paid slight heed to the wonderful sights in the Narrows, and gladly followed the ensign when the latter suggested that they step inside.

They entered the wheelhouse, a tiny room just behind the bridge, where a sailor stood at the wheel, steering the ship in accordance with the captain’s low-spoken orders. Immediately they passed through a door into the chart room. This was somewhat larger than the wheelhouse, though tiny at best. On a large shelf or table lay a number of charts, some dividers, pencils, erasers, sliding rules, and some binoculars. In a rack on the wall were various code-books and books of instructions to navigators. Lieutenant Hill was erasing some lines from a chart. A moment later the captain stepped in. The two consulted the chart, and made some measurements with the sliding rule.

“Our course is east, three-quarters south,” said the lieutenant.

“Very good,” replied the captain. “Mark it on the chart.”

The lieutenant laid his rule along the course indicated, and drew a line on the chart, while the captain stepped into the wheel room.

“Keep her east, three-quarters south,” he said to the man at the wheel.

“Aye, aye, sir. East, three-quarters south,” answered the helmsman.

“We're laying a course direct for Ambrose Lightship,” said the lieutenant to Henry. “After we reach that we will head directly for the location of the derelict.”

Presently, as he heard a thin, shrill whistle piping on deck, Henry turned to the ensign. “What was that?” he inquired.

“That’s the boatswain’s mate piping mess gear.”

“That’s all Greek to me,” laughed Henry,

Well, that’s the nautical term for the call to table. The whistle blows ten minutes before meal time, and the men, except those who must remain on duty, must wash for supper. See them scurrying to get ready? Meals are served at seven-twenty, noon, and five at night. So it’s ten minutes of five now.”

Henry was watching the sailors hurrying below, when a hand was laid on his shoulder. “Well, youngster,” said the captain’s kindly voice, “it’s time that you and I got washed up, too, or Rollin will be in our wool.”

Thanking the ensign for his kindness, Henry followed the commander to the deck and then down the companionway to the cabin. What he saw made Henry open his eyes wide. A snowy table-cloth had replaced the green felt table-cover, and the square little table was beautifully set for two.

“You'll find towels in your bathroom,” said the captain. “And if anything is missing, just ring for Rollin and he will bring it to you.”

In a few moments the captain and Henry sat face to face at the small table, and Henry was enjoying one of the pleasantest meals he had ever had.

Night was approaching when the meal was ended. “I must be getting my message off to my mother,” said Henry.

“Surely,” assented the commander. “We mustn’t forget that. Come with me and we'll go get acquainted with Sparks.”

“Sparks?” queried Henry.

“Oh! That’s our pet name for Harry Sharp the chief electrician. He has charge of all the electrical apparatus as well as the wireless itself.”

They found the chief electrician in the wireless house, for it was his trick at the key. “Mr. Sharp,” smiled the captain, “this is Henry Harper. He’s taking a little trip with us, and maybe he’ll be a Coast Guard man himself some day. Just now he wants to send a message to his friends at home, so that his mother won’t be alarmed about him. Will you help him out?”

Henry’s eyes shone bright as he looked about the small wireless room.: There was a broad, desk-like shelf that stretched from side to side of the little room, and on this, and on the walls about him, were fastened a dazzling array of wireless instruments.,

“Gee!” exclaimed Henry. “What a peach of an outfit!”

“It ought to be,” said the chief electrician with a smile. “It’s right up-to-date, and it cost Uncle Sam ten thousand dollars. Know anything about wireless?’

“A little,” said Henry. “I served as a sub-stitute operator at the government station at Frankfort for a time.”

“Would you like to send your own message?”

“Would I? Gee! I should say so.”

“Allright. Sit down here and let’s see what you can do. Call up your station.”

“Thank you,” said Henry. “Will you set her for two hundred and fifty meters, please?”

The electrician twirled his thumbscrews. Henry tested the key for a moment, then threw over the switch and sent his call speeding through the night: “CBWC—CBWC—CBWC—de—CBE.”

“You send well,” said the chief electrician.

For a few moments the two operators sat, their phones clamped to their ears, listening intently. There was no response.

“CBWC—CBWC—CBWC—de—CBE,” once more rapped out Henry.

This time there came a faint answer: “CBE—CBE—CBE—de—CBWK—K.”

“You've got ’em,” commented the electrician “Go ahead.”

“Reached New York all right,” wired Henry. “Both Willie and Roy out of town. Made the acquaintance of Captain Hardwick, of the Coast Guard cutter Iroquois. Am going to sea for a short trip as his guest. We are now in Lower New York Bay, heading for Ambrose Lightship. We are to find a derelict and destroy it. Please tell mother to write me in care of Captain Hardwick. Will send her a letter as soon as we get back.”

There was a long pause. Then the receivers began to buzz again. “Your mother is here,” came the message. “Wants to know more about your trip.”

Henry turned to his companion. “They are talking from the workshop in our back yard,” he explained. “It’s headquarters for our wireless club. We call it The Camp Brady Wireless Patrol. They’ve called mother out to the shop.”

Then he pressed the key again. “Tell her I’ll write,” he flashed back, and turning again to the chief electrician, he said with a grin: “Gee! I’d never dare tell her that I fell overboard. She'd have a fit and order me right home.”

“Where can we get you?” came another query.

“Call the Iroquois.” Once more Henry faced his companion. “What is our call signal?” he asked.

“NTE,” was the reply.

And Henry hastily added to his message: “Our call is NTE. Can send no more. Goodbye.”

“Gee!” he exclaimed, as he laid down the re- ceivers. “Won’t my chums be an astonished bunch! It was almost worth falling overboard to give ’em such a surprise! And won’t they envy me! I’m going to have the time of my life.”