***** Vol.1 Chap.18 Preaching to the choir *****
Right from the start, Kristin was clear that she needed to take matters into her own hands, with or without permission from the captain. Instead of waiting for him to call, she evaluated the situation and tried to formulate her own rescue plan.
First, her sub was parked only fifteen feet from the yacht, mounting a rescue effort from her sub should be the first choice and a natural one rather than an effort from the surface. Second, she was alone by herself. Without a doubt, she could move around efficiently than coordinating an entire team of divers. Third, she had one of the experimental atmospheric suits, lightweight and strong instead of the clunky suits that the divers from the surface had to wear. Fourth, this was not a salvage operation, but still a rescue operation.
The reasonings kept coming up in her logical mind, but they were like preaching to the choir. She needed no convincing at all to determine that she must pick up the efforts. She went through the motions to convince herself that she must act now and must do so quickly.
A strong current whipped past the sub again. This time, the rocking was more severe than before. She jumped to her feet and switched all available cameras towards the yacht. Before her eyes, the yacht, listing badly, had shifted much further towards the edge of the ledge. Without doubt, the yacht might fall into the ravine when the next strong current appeared.
The past hour of sitting and waiting was totally a waste of precious time. Not being able to hold herself back anymore, and after going through all the reasoning, orders or no orders, she got to do something. Besides, what was the point of sitting fifteen feet away from the yacht performing some mental gymnastics to rescue the yacht while witnessing the yacht sliding down the ledge right in front of her eyes? To witness such painful atrocity caused her to forget any contact with topside.
The need to get out and touch the yacht increased beyond her control. Part of her wanted to notify topside, but when she was about to reach out to flip on the communication channel, she stopped.
What is the use? He will just get mad and say no, anyway.
Time is of an essence and she wanted to get a closer look at the yacht. The oxygen gauge for the ship’s main tank showed fifteen minutes of oxygen left. The battery gauge showed barely sufficient power to surface the sub. Whatever she needed to do, it must be done now and quickly. Any success in the rescue must be accomplished in less than ten minutes, leaving another five minutes for the sub to surface. She set the timer on her diver’s watch for ten minutes.
Without wasting another second, she took the suit out from storage, got suited up into this specially made lightweight atmospheric suit, and strapped on the two oxygen tanks. But no matter how she maneuvered herself, the airlock could not accommodate her, her gear, and the two oxygen tanks. The design of the airlock was for a single person in a lightweight suit without additional gear.
She paused for a minute. Was this a design flaw? She remembered she tested the airlock with the suit on, though without the oxygen tanks. She made a mental note of this slight design flaw and vowed to correct the situation after she got topside. For now, she had to resist the temptation to redesign the airlock right there and then.
Her time, scarce and precious, ticked away. She had to figure out another way to get outside, a more immediate problem that she must solve right now. After several attempts and unstrapping the oxygen tanks, she finally squeezed herself and the tanks into the airlock. With her elbow, she started the sequence to flood the airlock and open the lock to the outside.
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Whew, a close call.
It was late spring and the water at this depth was cold. She had to keep moving to keep warm. Besides, she had wasted precious time trying to get out of the airlock. Her mental checklist directed her to first have a good initial look at the yacht, its condition and location, and to note if anyone was alive in the yacht before planning the rescue.
The thick vegetation prevented her rapid progress towards the yacht. Half hopping and half walking, she made her way towards the yacht through the dense vegetation. The task was much harder than she had imagined because her fins kept getting snared by the seaweed.
A loud creaking noise caught her attention. Her heart stopped, and she jumped. Another rush of circular current circled the yacht and her heart skipped at least three beats as the yacht slid again towards the edge. The stern had almost slid completely off the ledge. Had it not been for a few strands of seaweed entangled with the deck railing, the whole yacht would have disappeared a long time ago. The giant kelp bent and strained under the weight of the yacht appeared it could be uprooted at any second.
Not a second to waste. She rushed back to the sub and pulled out the steel cable connected to the electric wrench. Working furiously, she secured the wrench on the bow of the yacht and tightened the slack of the cable. She breathed a sigh of relief. When she checked her watch, eight minutes had already gone by.
Navigating herself to the cabin and peering through the porthole, a flickering light was still inside. That piqued her curiosity. She wondered if the light showed someone alive inside. Without a light on her, it was quite dark to peer through the porthole to see inside the cabin, but the flashlight seemed to shine on what might be two ghostly figures, though the figures did not move at all.
She tapped on the window of the porthole. No answer. She tapped on the window again. No movement. Perhaps the window was too thick. She looked around for a piece of rock and smashed the rock at the window. This time, she detected some movement. Perhaps that was her imagination. She could be wrong. One figure seemed to have shifted a leg. Elated, she was convinced that the occupants were still alive.
This should not be a salvage operation. This is definitely a rescue operation. She chided Jonas in her mind.
She had to think fast now about what she had to do to get these people to safety. One person was still unconscious, while the other was too weak to move. There was no way they could themselves at all, much less to help her. After having been trapped for so many hours, the air supply might stifle since they survived solely on the air trapped in the cabin. She tried to shine the light on herself and waved and motioned that she would be back soon, not knowing if her message got through or not.
Perhaps she could break into the cabin to rescue the two survivors. But that plan was doomed from the start, as a seal strong enough to prevent the water from rushing into the cabin was needed. As soon as the cabin door was broken, the water pressure would smash the survivors into pieces.
She swam around to the other side of the yacht. Another powerful gust of circular current rose from below the ledge. For a moment, because of the chaotic movement of the current, she was blinded by the whirlpool with rocks, shrimp, and leaves flying all around her. Instinctively, she stooped on the floor and hung on to a nearby giant kelp to prevent from being swept away. She knew she had run out of time.
When everything was settled, she stood up to find the cable tying the yacht to her sub. But no yacht. Her heart sank. She looked again. Even the sub disappeared. Her heart stopped. Frantically, she hopped around the vegetation. No yacht and no sub came within sight. Some scrape marks on the edge of the ledge showed what had happened.
Dazed and confused, panic overwhelmed her. She realized even she needed rescue as well. All her plans disappeared out the window. Unsure of what she should do, her pride dwindled away, and her career and her life taken away right before her eyes.
Now what? She asked herself.