Hours later Joe had lost all sense of time and place, his body began to cramp and he was convinced Bunyip was gone. He was on the second grid when the metal detector vibrated gently. He stopped and directed the light between his feet. Deep down between a crack the light caught a yellow flash.
He fell to his knees and heaved on the smaller surrounding rocks to widen the space. Thick mud swirled over his helmet. His heart missed a beat as he saw a small patch of yellow.
‘I’ve found her Sam! I can see a small section of her hull under the rocks. Enrico! Get over here. Latitude sixty-six degrees, twenty-eight mins longitude, one sixty-eight degrees fifty-five minutes. Over.’
Sam butted in. ‘I’m sendin’ down cables and the other ADS diver. What else do you need? Over.’
‘A bit of luck I’d say. It’s going to take some time.’ Joe turned to look around but it was like being in a small tomb with a lighted match, silent and eerie with nothingness at the edges. ‘Um, I’m a bit nervous about more tremors. Over.’
‘Don’t worry. Nick said the rumblin’ stopped three hours ago. Help’s on the way. Good job man. Standby. Out.’
While he waited for the other divers to arrive Joe surveyed the area and assessed what had to be done. Most of the rocks he could see immediately around him gave no indication of the extent of the job they faced. The AD suit would support him for hours but it would not sustain his energy levels. He figured he would be good for six hours, then he would need to surface for a replacement. The depth here was beyond the limit an ordinary scuba diver could tolerate, so they were restricted to using only the AD suits. He had no way of knowing how long it would take, disorientation, fear of the unknown and the icy sea temperature being major hurdles.
Enricho arrived and he and Joe began by hooking a steel cable from the Platypus around a rock that concealed the yellow flash Joe had seen. Swirling mud agitated by their every movement hampered their vision, and the Pincers although quite easy to use did not possess the senses of human hands. As a consequence the job of placing the cable securely around the rock failed several times as it fell away into the blackness.
It was only after the third diver arrived that they were able to get enough leverage to secure the cable. Joe gave the signal to the ship above and the cable tightened and dragged the first rock away from the stricken Bunyip.
Inside the sub the men heard a distant scrape, different to the sound of the falling rocks that had ceased hours ago, and a great cheer went up.
‘They’ve found us.’ Wolf cried. ‘Thank God!’
Nick wasn’t sure and he was not about the dampen their spirits by suggesting it may be more rocks falling.
After the radio went out he had not wanted to voice his fear, but he had been deathly afraid. More afraid than when he and his brother stood over their father’s grave with the dreadful realisation that they were all alone in the world.
Jeremy nursed his arm wrapped in the sling Nick has fashioned. Nick could only find aspirin in the medical kit which helped, but failed to stop the pain. Now with hope of rescue he moved without moaning.
For hours they had been consumed by fear, and even though they were still in deadly danger, the colour returned to their ashen faces. They had no idea how deep they were buried or how long it would take the divers to dig them out.
Nick decided they should celebrate and suggested they have a meal. In one corner of the sphere was a small cupboard that pulled down to form a table, where Beau had stashed the day’s supply of sandwiches and flasks of hot coffee. Last night the cook had prepared fresh muffins, and right now this sounded like a welcome idea as the men were eager to have something to take their minds off their predicament.
Five hours later, dried up, leftover sandwiches and cold coffee littered the small table and the sounds of scraping above them grew louder. Condensation from their hot breaths in the cold sphere clouded the fisheyes, yet perspiration glistened on every visible part of their bodies. The playing cards were scattered across the floor where Wolf had flung them. Now he sat with arms crossed, huddled as far from the others as the small space would allow. The elation they felt at their discovery had drained away as the clock ticked on with no sign of the divers breaking through.
Nick fiddled with the air conditioner to keep the temperature at a tolerable level that would not drain the emergency batteries.
‘What d’you think their doing out there?’ Wolf asked nobody in particular.
Beau slapped the communications mike. ‘What a time for the bloody radio to quit! If we just knew what they’re doing.’
‘The rocks are blocking the signal,’ Wolf said. ‘They’re Basalt with a high presence of oxide minerals that increase their magnetic signature.’
Beau’s mouth dropped. ‘Great. So your saying we have to wait till they move the rocks? Try that fancy computer of yours Jeremy.’
‘No good. The Satcom won’t work at this depth.’
Communications in the year 2030 with the aid of Satcom had made giant leaps forward, to the point that every ship could be seen and pinpointed anywhere on the ocean at any time of day or night, except for submarines below thirty metres, who had to rely on the old fashioned radios.
Although Jeremy did not complain Nick saw that he had removed his glasses and his eyes were glazed. Sweat oozed from his pale face and he gritted his teeth with each movement. Nick passed him some more aspirin. ‘Take it easy mate. Can’t be too much longer.’
The internal temperature of five degrees Celsius was bearable for six hours, but it had been eleven hours since the first shock downed them, and due to the lack of mobility the men felt the cold beginning to penetrate their green bodysuits. These suits were made of a material that could insulate the wearer against cold or warmth, depending on the colour. Most of the world’s population wore clothes made of this material, which was very effective, but now the sustained cold atmosphere of the Bunyip forced them to don heavy jackets.
On board Platypus a crane laboured over the side, lifting, dragging and dropping rocks away from the stricken Bunyip. Joe and Enrico had returned from their six-hour shift and two relief divers had replaced them. They worked this way non-stop through the night, changing shifts, moving rocks. Nature gave them a reprieve and the wind force had died down to a tolerable level. Ice glazed the deck and the ship rolled and dipped into the unforgiving sea, but it did not stop the crane crew who fought the battle non-stop.
The reports from the divers were not encouraging. They worked in an area where they could see barely two metres in front of them, where every move reduced that to centimetres. They had no idea if they worked in the direction required to free the Bunyip. Sam had sent down a hydrostat, a sophisticated successor to the hydrophone, but at this depth until the divers could attach it to the hull of the Bunyip it had no use.
Joe was on his second shift the next morning when they exposed a square metre of the hull. It rested two metres below the surface of the rocks. ‘Only twenty-odd feet to go, but which direction?’ He sighed, his voice flat and defeated. He thumped the pincers at the end of his arm against the hull.
Joe lowered one of the heavy crowbars into the exposed hole and tapped against the titanium hull to let them know he had found them. He then lowered the hydrostat ensuring the umbilical cord to the Platypus didn’t snag on any rough edges.
Inside Bunyip they heard the faint taps muffled by the seven-inch thickness of the hull.
‘That definitely was not rocks!’ Nick exclaimed.
They cheered, and Jeremy sparked to attention. ‘Holy mother…’
‘Shhush!’ Nick padded his hand palm down in the air. ‘Sam will know to use the hydrostat so they’ll be able to hear us, but we can’t hear him. Sam! Can you hear me? Get the diver to tap twice to acknowledge. Over.’ Nick strained to listen. ‘Sam, get the diver to tap twice. Loud. Over.’