“Very well,” Mack said. “Come to periscope depth,” he ordered the OOD.
As Cheyenne ascended slowly, Mack hoped that the message would contain some good news.
Mack had decided to come to periscope depth in case the incoming message from Nimitz required an answer. He couldn’t use the floating wire to transmit a message back to the fleet. He also wasn’t sure if the message was on the VLF broadcast yet.
With Cheyenne at periscope depth, Mack decided to have a quick look around with the Type 2 attack periscope. After raising his periscope, Mack made a quick circular motion in order to get a complete 360-degree picture of the surface, but he didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.
As the message was received, it was automatically deciphered by the SSIXS transceiver and brought to Mack. He read it, then handed it to the navigator.
“Take a look at this,” Mack said. “Several of Nimitz’s aircraft, operating from the Pacific, have been monitoring Chinese naval activities in the Formosa Strait for the past week, and they have determined that we are headed straight for a minefield.”
That was good information to have, and Mack appreciated receiving it, but the message didn’t end there. Nimitz had located two routes that they believed had been designated safe transit zones for Chinese vessels. According to naval intelligence reports they had just received, no mines had been detected floating on the surface in those areas and no Chinese surface ships had been detected laying mines in those zones.
Mack ordered Cheyenne back to four hundred feet, and then he and the navigator went over to the quartermaster’s table where a large chart of the Formosa Strait was lying flat on the table.
The Formosa Strait was shallow, running from north to south, in between China and Taiwan. The suspected mined area took up a large portion of the strait, running completely through its center. The first mine-safe route was on the western side, along the coast of China. The second route was on the eastern side along the coast of Taiwan. Both officers examined the recommended routes, trying to determine which route was better for Cheyenne.
The navigator spoke first. “Captain, I recommend taking the eastern route, along the western shore of Taiwan. I’m not that comfortable with running along the coast of China. We would probably be faced with who knows what types of Chinese patrol craft, not to mention all the aircraft that we would come into contact with.”
Mack agreed, both with the reasoning and the recommendation. “The second route it is,” he said. “Plot a new course just to the starboard side of the Pescadores Islands.”
The navigator remained at the plotting table while Mack headed to the sonar room to find out if any new, interesting contacts had been detected. Then the navigator had the quartermaster of the watch enter Cheyenne’s track onto his chart.
Cheyenne headed through the shallow waters of the Formosa Strait at four knots. With their previous experience in shallow waters, Mack ordered the OOD to run at one hundred feet. The strait itself was roughly 350 nautical miles long. At Cheyenne’s current speed, Mack would reach the end of his trip north in about three and a half days. His plan was to quietly sail up near Taiwan and listen for enemy vessels. Mack knew that if he detected any they would most likely be maneuvering in the western safe route, on the other side of the minefield from Cheyenne’s current location.
But Cheyenne’s mission wasn’t just to detect enemy vessels. She was tasked with conducting a search-and-destroy mission for any Chinese submarines and major surface combatants. In order to carry out this mission, Mack decided that once Cheyenne was completely through the strait he would turn around and search the dangerous area around the Chinese coast, which he was sure would be a “target-rich” environment.
Cheyenne’s sonar operators listened carefully as she made her transit north. As Mack had guessed, there was little to no Chinese naval traffic on the Taiwan side of the strait — but he did gain one key item of importance, however: they now had an exact location on the Chinese minefield and had plotted at least one safe zone around it.
Once again, Mack found himself appreciating the message he’d received from Nimitz. Without that, he might have found himself on the wrong end of a mine’s contact “horn.”
Cheyenne crossed north of the twenty-fifth parallel, almost into the East China Sea. Two hours later, Mack ordered Cheyenne to periscope depth to have a look around and to check for any incoming SSIXS radio traffic. There were no messages waiting for him and no sign of Chinese surface ships. Mack hoped that this was a good sign.
Once into the East China Sea, Mack ordered the OOD to complete a U-turn, clearing Cheyenne’s baffles and also changing course. Moving slowly and silently, he started bringing Cheyenne back down to the south, along the Chinese coast.
Ten nautical miles into their return trip in the strait, Cheyenne detected their first submerged contact.
“Conn, sonar, we’ve got a sonar contact bearing 242. I think we’ve got a Kilo, Captain, running fast on his single six-bladed screw.”
The BSY-1 operators went to work immediately, attempting to determine the range to the Chinese submarine contact.
Sometimes that process was excruciatingly slow. Sometimes it went very quickly. This was one of the quick ones.
“We’ve got it,” one of the BSY-1 operators said. “Range is 39,000 yards. It’s running at sixteen knots, course 145.”
“Increase speed to eight knots,” ordered Mack. “Man battle stations, torpedo.” Mack knew he would cavitate, but that didn’t bother him this time. The Kilo was cavitating also, and he didn’t believe that the Chinese submarine would run at flank speed for long, not in twenty-four fathoms of water.
As Cheyenne got closer, the firing solution on the Kilo submarine got better and better. After closing to within 20,000 yards, Mack ordered tubes one and two made ready, and both torpedo tube outer doors were opened.
The range to the Kilo had been closing slowly, but after Mack opened the torpedo tube doors, sonar reported that the Kilo had slowed down, and the range closed more quickly. The BSY-1 computers showed that the Kilo had turned toward Cheyenne. Less than a minute later, sonar had another report for Mack.
“Conn, sonar, the Kilo just went active with its medium-frequency ’Shark Teeth’ sonar.”
“Shark Teeth” was a NATO nickname for the hull-mounted passive/active sonar carried by the Chinese Kilos.
As soon as the Chinese Kilo went active, Mack had no choice. Cheyenne had been discovered. “Match sonar bearings and shoot, tubes one and two, Master 112,” he ordered.
“Match sonar bearings and shoot, tubes one and two, Master 112, aye, sir.”
Cheyenne had been through this many, many times in the past several weeks, but each new action still carried an edge of tension. The crew performed as well as always, however, and it wasn’t long before Mack received the report, “Tube one fired electrically,” and, seconds later, “tube two fired electrically.”
Mack acknowledged the report.
“Conn, sonar, both units are running hot, straight, and normal.”
On board the Kilo, the American Mk 48 torpedoes appeared to come out of nowhere. The Kilo had begun using its active sonar in an effort to detect any possible sonar contacts. This close to their home waters, the Kilo’s captain had felt safe doing so. He was only now realizing that he had made a grievous error.