“It’s really good to see you, David,” the Norwegian said as he stood and offered his hand in greeting.
Lawton found Magne’s firm grip a bit clammy as he replied, “Likewise, my friend. It seems I got here at an opportune moment.”
“Your timing’s impeccable, David. You’ll get to see the fireworks firsthand.”
Magne issued a flurry of instructions in rapid Norwegian to his coworkers, before returning his attention to his guest.
“We just found this mine yesterday, while in the middle of a routine examination of the seabed for the laying of Ice Field’s new oil pipeline.”
“With all of your other pipelines in this area, I would have thought that the seabed here had long been cleared of any obstacles,” said Lawton.
“So did I,” Magne answered.
“But as you very well know, the open seas are full of surprises. We only learned from the Norwegian naval authorities this morning that the mine appears to have been originally laid in 1918. At that time some 70,000 mines were deposited in a minefield between Norway and Great Britain to prevent German submarines from gaining access to the Atlantic.”
“Couldn’t you just reroute your pipeline to go around the mine?” asked Lawton.
“We tossed the idea around, but decided it just wasn’t worth the risks involved. As you well know, during pipe-laying the laying barge hauls itself along on anchors.
Some of these anchors extend several kilometers from the barge, and it’s therefore imperative that a cleared corridor over five hundred meters wide exists. Because of the presence of massive, house-sized boulders on the seabed beneath us, the route can’t be significantly altered; thus we’ve been saddled with the job of ridding the seas of this potential hazard along with all the others once and for all.”
One of the technicians interrupted with a brief comment and Magne provided the translation.
“The blast will be triggered by our ROV. Solo has just attained its firing position. Though I’m afraid that there won’t be much to see, keep your eyes on the central monitor screen.”
Lawton did just this as Magne returned to the console.
Illuminated by the ROV’s powerful mercury-vapor spotlights, the fiber optic video camera showed nothing but an expanse of grey water. It was just after Magne depressed a circular red button that the screen filled with a swirling vortex of roiling air bubbles. It took several minutes before the agitation settled.
“I’ll move Solo in now,” said Magne as he activated the joystick.
“But I doubt if there will be much left of that mine but an empty crater in the seabed several meters deep.”
Soon the video screen filled with just such a feature and David Lawton said thoughtfully, “That sure beats the hell out of deactivating mines like we did in Nam.
Back then we were still doing it the old-fashioned way — with divers.”
“Two hundred and fifty kilos of TNT can pack a wallop,” said Magne.
“I certainly wouldn’t want to have to go down there and personally deal with such a monster.”
“Tell that to the C.O.” said Lawton with a wink.
Magne smiled and stood to rejoin his guest. Only then did Lawton notice that Magne was wearing the alligator-skin cowboy boots that the Norwegian had bought in Houston the year before.
“I see you still have your boots ” observed the Texan.
“Most comfortable pair of ‘shoes’ I ever owned, David. I almost gave you a call before you left to ask you to bring me another pair.”
“That can be arranged,” said Lawton.
“Do you still have your Stetson?”
The blue-eyed Norwegian shook his head.
“As a matter of fact, I don’t. My oldest boy Karl took a liking to it from the day he met me at the airport. That was the first real cowboy hat he’d ever seen. When he asked me if he could wear it to school the next day, I couldn’t refuse.
Needless to say, that was the last I ever saw of it.” The Norwegian’s warm eyes sparkled.
“Why don’t I give you an update on the family over something to eat.”
Oil field support ships were widely known for the excellent quality of their food, and the Falcon’s galley was no exception. The buffet table displayed a wide variety of both hot and cold delicacies. At Magne’s suggestion, Lawton chose a plate of fresh herring, served with sour cream and chopped onions. For his main course he selected broiled chicken, steamed potatoes, beets, and an apple tart for dessert.
The mess was designed to hold up to one-half of the Falcon’s one hundred person complement at a time. Yet less than a dozen crew members were present as the two sat down at a vacant table near the room’s rear bulkhead.
“I hope you find the food satisfactory, David. The Falcon’s head chef was trained in Paris, although he still can’t duplicate the wonderful chili that was served on your rig. I don’t suppose you would happen to know the recipe.”
“That, my friend, is an official Texas state secret” laughed Lawton as he piled a piece of herring onto a slice of black bread.
“But I’ll tell you what — though I’m not much of a cook myself — when I return to Houston, I’ll see what I can do about getting a copy of Cooky’s famous Rio Grande chili recipe and send it off to you.
Maybe I could even manage to smuggle out a couple of packages of real Texan chili powder.”
As Lawton took a bite of herring, he appreciatively added, “This concoction’s damn tasty itself. When I eat fish back home it’s usually prepared deep fried or blackened with cajun pepper. But I think that I could learn to enjoy this herring. Yes, I think I certainly could.”
“Well, you’ll be having your fill of it during your stay with us,” said Magne as he dug into the Ceaser salad he had selected.
“Herring is a staple part of our diet, and hardly a day goes by without it being served. My wife Anna likes it raw for breakfast. I myself prefer the pickled variety, like the type that you’re eating.”
“Is Anna still teaching?” questioned the Texan between bites of his appetizer.
“She certainly is, David. This is the start of her third year, and she’s just as enthused about those fifth graders others as she was on the day she first began.”
“What ever happened to your oldest boy, Magne? Did he enlist in the Army like he was threatening to do?”
Magne put down his fork.
“Fortunately, Karl listened to the voice of reason and decided on college. A full scholarship to the University of Missouri is not something to pass over on a mere whim. He’ll have plenty of time to serve his country once he graduates and returns home in four years.”
“You must be very proud of him, Magne. What’s the little one been up to?”
The Norwegian grinned.
“Thor is as full of the devil as ever. It’s hard to believe he’ll be graduating secondary school in another year. Where in the hell does time fly?”
“Tell me about it,” said Lawton as he cut into a chicken breast.
“I still find it hard to believe that a whole year has passed since your visit. It seems like it was just the other day that we were out there on the Gulf of Mexico sipping Lone Star longnecks and swapping the stories of our lives.”
Magne nodded.
“What ever happened to your daughter?
Did you hear from her like you were hoping last year?”
There was a hint of bitterness in Lawton’s tone as he answered.
“To tell you the truth Magne, I haven’t.
Though I did hear from one of her close girlfriends that Susan’s doing real well. She’s got her own place in Santa Monica, California, and is studying to get her real estate license. I still think it’s her mother’s fault for her never answering my calls or letters. My ex has filled her with so much poison that she probably thinks I’m a demon of some kind. I should have fought harder for custody from the very beginning.”