The picture cut to an image of Jupiter with the Coast Guard boarding her. Susan Schulman’s voice was heard: “In Ponce Inlet today, the Coast Guard boarded a thirty-eight foot charter fishing boat, Jupiter, based out of Ponce Marina and searched it … not for drugs but for possible World War Two artifacts. What kind of artifacts? No one we spoke to is saying. Someone on a marine radio was overheard talking about his boat getting its anchor caught on a sunken German U-boat. They allegedly made a dive down to free the anchor and found the sub. The owner of Jupiter, Captain Sean O’Brien, told us he didn’t find a submarine. Coast Guard Chief Carl Wheeler said they’d heard what he termed ‘chatter’ on a marine radio frequency that led them to believe it might have come from Jupiter or a similar vessel in the Gulf Stream off Daytona Beach by timing from when the call was received to entry into the port from that direction.”
The images cut from pictures of the Coast Guard cutter to Susan Schulman standing near the Ponce Lighthouse. She said, “In the early part of World War II, German U-boats were seen off the U.S. coast from New York to Florida. Some managed to sink a few American ships. So it’s conceivable the U.S. Navy sank U-boats that were never found. Although the crew of Jupiter says they didn’t hook a U-boat, if they had hooked one, it would certainly be an historic catch. Reporting live in South Daytona Beach, this is Susan Schulman.”
Nick said, “I take that woman on my boat to the dive site … she’ll see what a real anchorman does.”
“I don’t think you can find the exact spot to toss your anchor,” O’Brien said.
“You got the GPS numbers, but remember I’m Greek, we’ve been in boats for two-thousand years. But even if that news lady rode naked on my bowsprit, I wouldn’t take her out to the devil’s graveyard.”
Dave said, “I imagine finding a human skeleton underwater is quite sobering.”
“Sobering,” said Nick, entering Dave’s galley with Max at his heels. “It’s frightening. That’s where Hitler … Lucifer himself … that’s where his lost sailors are doin’ the dance with the devil in the dark currents of the ocean. Dave, I know where your good iron skillet is, and I know where your beer is, too.”
“Help yourself to both,” Dave said. Nick started humming and sauteing the grouper, tossing a piece of bread to Max. Dave sat at a fold-out table near the lower station and began keying information into his computer. “Sean, you said that you and Nick found two canisters labeled U-235. How large was each canister?”
“Maybe three feet long, probably a foot wide.”
“If both canisters were holding weapons-grade uranium, that is at least ninety percent pure, it would mean that Germany was as far along as the Allies, or more specifically, the United States in the race to create a nuclear bomb. If I recall, it takes about five-hundred kilos or a thousand pounds to produce an atomic bomb the size of the one that destroyed Hiroshima. Two canisters the size you found would do some severe devastation. I’m wondering why those canisters are on that part of the sub. What were the Germans going to do with the stuff? Was it connected to those jets in boxes? Fascinating scenarios at play here.”
“Wish I knew the answers to that,” O’Brien said.
Dave opened a file cabinet under the console and began leafing through dozens of folders. He grunted as he read through a file. Then he keyed numbers and letters into his laptop. “I’ll find more information in the morning. However, right now, I can scan through some files remotely. I know it’s rude of me, but could you turn your head for a moment.”
“I can always go help Nick in the galley.”
“No you can’t,” said Nick, lifting up a knife in a mock swordfight stance. “I teach you all I know about fishing, look what happened, you catch a submarine.” Nick grinned and tossed Max a piece of cheese.
“Okay,” said Dave. “I can’t pull up the original manifest of U-boat 236, but I might be able to find it. I do have some stats on the vessel. It was commissioned in March 1945, the largest sub in Germany’s fleet, one of the few XB subs. This one was 340 feet in length. U-boat 236 carried a crew of forty-seven men. Highest ranking officer was Otto Heinz. The sub left Kiel, Germany, on April 13, 1945, to join six other U-boats in what was to be the final battle of the Atlantic. It evaded and crippled a Royal Navy sub in the North Atlantic. Those last seven submarines, known as Hitler’s Sea Wolf pack, were Admiral Karl Donitz’s, collectively, and Heinz’s last effort to strike a fatal blow to the U.S. as Germany was gasping for breath. U-boat 236 was believed to have been one of the subs that carried a more compact version of Germany’s deadly V2 rockets, which were the V3s. More powerful and more stealth-like than the infamous ‘buzz bombs’ that Hitler used against London. One or more of the subs was thought to be carrying disassembled Me2-Fighter Jets. If they had weapons-grade uranium for creating atomic bombs and V3 rocket launching capabilities, any one of these seven German U-boats could have sat a few miles off the coast and heavily damaged New York City or another target area.”
“Man,” Nick said. “A possible nine-eleven-type catastrophe almost six decades before nine-eleven.”
“The potential would have been much worse if they had about three times the amount of uranium that you two found, assuming that is indeed what you found.”
“Does it say what happened to U-boat 236?” O’Brien asked.
Dave scanned the data. “No.”
“Does it say what happened to the other six U-boats in the Sea Wolf pack?”
“Navy sent five of them to the ocean floor north of the Azores. One surrendered.”
“Anything about weapons-grade, HEU?”
“Hold on a second … umm … shortly after Germany surrendered in early May 1945, Admiral Donitz instructed the commander of U-boat 234 to give up and report to whichever Allied port it was nearest to at the time. That U-boat was escorted in by two U.S. Navy destroyers, taken to Portsmouth, New Hampshire. And, gentlemen, it did have more than seven hundred kilos or almost two-thousand pounds of U-235, highly enriched uranium on board.”
“What happened to the stuff, the uranium?” Nick asked.
Dave nodded. “This report doesn’t say. I do know that three months later we dropped the same stuff, as you say, over Japan and closed the curtain on the whole damn war. If you two found HEU, the only way to know for sure is to dive back down and bring it up.”
“No freakin’ way!” Nick said. “Only one man can ever find what’s been lost out there. And that man killed the GPS numbers before Jason and I could look at them.”
“It was the best thing to do,” O’Brien said.
“Nick,” said Dave, his voice barely audible, “if that’s what you found, Sean may have done you the greatest favor in your life.”
Nick grinned. “See no evil, hear no evil, and tell no evil. Let’s eat.”
Dave opened three bottles of Corona and they sat at the bar to eat. Dave said, “Nick, the combination of sauteed grouper, melted cheese, diced tomatoes, and the Vidalia onions in your recipe is as treasured as Plato’s Republic.”
“Same old recipe,” Nick said, chewing a mouthful of food. “I just gave it a new name, sixteen fathoms sub sandwich.” He tossed a bite to Max as O’Brien’s cell rang.
“Jupiter Charters,” O’Brien said.
“Are you Captain O’Brien?” a woman asked.
“Yes, who’s calling?”
“I saw the news tonight. Did you find a lost German submarine out there?”
“Who’s this?”
“May I meet and talk with you, please. It’s very important.”
“What’s your name?”
“Abby Lawson. Sixty-seven years ago, my grandfather saw something on the beach that got him killed. If you found a German sub, that discovery could help my family bring closure to his murder.”