***** Vol.1 Chap.19 Rescuer needing rescue *****

First came the shock.

After the strong swirl of current passed through the ridge, the giant kelp holding the yacht finally snapped. Instantly, the yacht slid off the ledge, pulling the submersible with it. Kristin, shocked beyond belief, surmised that both yacht and sub had slid off into the ravine.

Her emotions refused defeat, but her mind could not accept defeat. She came here to rescue the sunken yacht. Now she realized she was also the one needed to be rescued. She sat down with her mouth wide open, not accepting what she was seeing or rather not seeing and what had happened.

The shock became alarm and anxiety.

The scrape marks at the ledge were the telltale signs that both the yacht and the sub had slid down the ravine. She alone stood on the ocean floor with two small cylinders of oxygen. The present predicament was not only accepting defeat, but survival. Though lightweight, her atmospheric suit’s weight prevented her escape to the surface. She now faced her own gloomy grave with the vegetation here on this ocean floor. This was reality, not a dream anymore.

Now alarm and anxiety had turned to hysteria.

In her dire situation, she suddenly burst out laughing. She tried to save others, but she could not even save herself. What a twist of events! What a surprising predicament! What a joke! Her respect and high hopes for herself dashed in a moment, evaporated into thin air.

Look around…

Something surfaced in her subconsciousness.

Look around…

Slowly, she collected her wits together and kicked her way to the ledge. As she got closer, she spotted the cable caught on a protrusion on the ocean floor. Quickly, she followed the cable towards the edge. Right there, hanging over the ledge, the yacht dangled with the bow up. The other end of the cable still connected to her sub mired in a bunch of seaweed. When the yacht slid off the ledge, the weight of the yacht pulled on the cable and dislodged the sub. The yacht would have pulled the sub all the way down into the ravine had it not been for the cable being snagged on the rising rock that stopped the sub from moving too far.

From the way she had chained the yacht with the cable, the cable had pulled the bow up, allowing the air bubble to remain in the yacht. If the passengers were safe, though probably shaken by the jolt, she might have a slight chance of rescuing herself and the yacht.

Like getting a second wind and a shot of adrenaline, the game was not over yet.

She examined the sub-yacht contraption bound by a steel cable. The swaying yacht was now dangling precariously over the ledge, still tethered to the sub. At any moment, the sub-yacht combo could continue to slide down into the deep basin below. The only choice was to tow the yacht to the surface with her sub. She sprinted back to the sub and squeezed into the airlock. Instead of discarding the oxygen cylinders, she foresaw the need of oxygen even inside the sub. As soon as the airlock was cleared, she scurried to the pilot seat and brought the sub to life.

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Red lights flashed everywhere, and alarms competed for her attention. An oxygen warning light told her that the oxygen tank was almost empty. Another warning light on remaining battery power told her that the battery capacity had drained to the last ten percent. Other warning lights flashed, but she had no time to pay attention to those anymore.

She gently increased the throttle with one hand while keeping her fingers crossed with the other. The sub shook a little and moved forward a bit, but stalled once the tension caught on after clearing the rock that had snagged the line.

She tightened the winch on the cable, pulling the sub closer to the yacht. The sub shook a lot, but the sub-yacht combination held together as one piece still. To strengthen the sub-yacht bond, she activated the rear claws on her sub to grab whatever structures on the yacht reachable by the sub’s claws. As soon as she had a good grip on the yacht, she gave the throttle a little push. Instantly, the weight of the yacht dragged on the sub.

So far, so good. The sub-yacht combination worked. Now the actual test.

With no time to waste, and being satisfied that she had a good hold on the yacht, she increased the throttle to maximum thrust. The sub shook violently but did not dislodge the sub-yacht from the ravine. She eased on the throttle and tried again, to no avail. The sub-yacht seemed to have moved a bit, but the whole contraption did not rise. The yacht proved too much of a load for the sub.

She was frustrated. After three more tries, she knew this configuration was futile. She leaned back in the pilot seat and gave up, though her mind kept seeking for a way. There has to be a way. There has to be something I can do to save these people. Her mind was working overtime.

Snagged by a clump of giant kelp at the ledge, frantically, she used whatever appendages she had at the front and rear of the sub to whack at the kelp. Slicing, clipping, chopping, shoveling. Like a madwoman, she was hacking at the kelp. But to no avail.

The sub-yacht combination jolted a bit. She immediately throttled the sub’s engine, but the kelp held fast still. She sat back, frustrated. So close and yet so helpless.

The ballast…

A silent voice again arose in her subconsciousness.

The ballast…

She bolted straight up, half cursing herself for being so forgetful. Standard procedure called for blowing the ballast for emergency surfacing. She cursed herself for being such a novice and a nitwit!

She began slowly increasing the throttle and simultaneously pushed the button for an emergency-blowing off the water in the ballast tank. This time, she detected movement, though hard to gauge, amidst all the bubbles and debris flying around. When the outside turbulence finally cleared, she confirmed she was indeed moving and rising. With a sigh of relief, she angled her sub up for an emergency surface procedure.

She checked the gauges. The oxygen level in the tank had been totally drained. The battery level gauge, solid in the red zone, showed that the remaining charge was depleted. She grabbed the oxygen tanks she used while outside the sub. The gauges on the cylinders showed no oxygen left as well.

Five more minutes! Five more minutes to get to the surface! She consoled herself.

The air had gotten stale inside the sub now. After opening the valves of the two remaining oxygen cylinders, she barely got a few breaths of oxygen. Drowsiness reaching her, not only from oxygen deprivation but also from the rapid decompression because of the steep angle of the ascent.

When she almost got to the top, she switched the radio back on. Immediately, the radio crackled. “Mayflower calling Jennifer. Mayflower calling Jennifer. Please acknowledge.”

“Jennifer here…”

“What have you been doing? … (crackle) … contact you for the last half hour.”

“According to my gauge … (crackle) … at the surface…” The radio fell silent.

The air was unbreathable, and she was losing consciousness fast. She fought to stay awake to see the sub surface. That last minute was the longest in her life. It seemed to take ages. Finally, the sub shook and bobbled, but by then, she felt nothing.