It occurred to me that the air was escaping through the vents with a
strangely loud noise, but before I could consider the matter further or
even inquire the reason for this sudden dive, the noise increased to a
terrifying extent, and whilst I prepared myself for the worst it
culminated into a roar as of fifty express trains going through a
tunnel, mingled with the noise of a high-powered aeroplane engine.
The roar drummed and beat and shook the boat, then died away as
suddenly as it came; a moment later there was a severe jar. We had
struck the bottom, still maintaining our angle.
I painfully got to my feet and then discovered from the navigator that
he had suddenly seen two white patches of foam 800 yards on the
starboard bow, which resolved themselves into the bow waves of a
destroyer approaching at full speed to ram.
We had dived just in time, and her knife-edged bow, driven by 30,000
horse power, had slid through the water a very few feet above our
conning tower.
Luckily he had not dropped any depth charges. We were not, however,
completely free of our troubles, though we had cheated the destroyer.
Examination of the chart, showed the bottom to be mud, and on
attempting to move the foremost hydroplanes, the plane motor fuses blew
out. This showed that the boat was buried in the mud right up to her
foremost planes, which were immovable.
The hydrophone watchkeeper reported that he could still hear
fast-running propellers, though probably some distance away, and as
this showed that our old enemy was still nosing about we were very
anxious not to break surface.
Pages:
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57