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“The stairs,” Chief Dolan shouted.

Willa and Chief Dolan made it down only three steps when the wave hit. They ducked down. Willa clung to the only remaining piece of railing and wedged Chief Dolan and Frank against the rock wall. The wave and debris poured over them, heavy objects bounced and bumped against their backs and heads. When the water stopped Willa and Chief Dolan stood and looked around. Debris was scattered everywhere. They couldn’t even get a footing to walk, there was so much wreckage from Dolphin Beach left on the large flat surface. Jason had been right about changing the safe zone to the other side of Highway 101. Had the city collected here, the vast majority of people would have been washed out to sea. They wouldn’t have survived the fall from Promontory Point after being washed over the edge.

Willa cleared a place for Chief Dolan to set Frank down and wait for help. Many of the people up on the other side of Highway 101 had seen Willa and Chief Dolan as they made their way up the steps. They began clearing a path to her and the Chief. Within an hour Frank had been carried to higher ground and was one of the first to be examined and treated by the EMT’s who arrived in an ambulance.

Willa looked down on what little remained of Dolphin Beach. She couldn’t imagine three more tsunami’s hitting her beloved town. But the tsunamis were coming and all they could do was watch.

CHAPTER 59

U.S.S. Massachusetts, Pacific Ocean, Off the Coast of Oregon

“Sir?” one of the crew of the control center said as he handed the headset back to the Captain. “It’s the sonar room — we’re being hailed by the Boise.”

Jacobs took the headset and put it back on. “This is the Captain.”

“Sir, the Boise has us on their sonar system. They want to know if our situation is stable or not. They are asking for one clang for stable or two for unstable.”

Nothing had changed in the last twenty minutes, so things at least appeared to be stable. “Radio room, con, one clang and only one clang.”

“One clang, Sir.” The sound echoed through the hull of the sub.

“Sir, the Boise is going to periscope depth to report our position and condition. They will return to watch over us.”

“Thank you,” Jacobs replied.

When the Boise returned they reported over the voice modulated sonar that the seas had calmed on the surface and that a rescue ship with a floating dry dock was on its way. There was at least some hope. The Boise remained at 1500 feet relaying messages to the Massachusetts. Because of the HY-100 armor steel used in the hull construction, the Massachusetts was able to withstand greater pressure on its hull than the Los Angeles Class submarines, like the Boise, which used the older HY-80 steel. That difference was the only thing that kept the Massachusetts from being crushed where it was.

Twenty-eight hours later, Captain Jacobs heard noises from the hull of the sub. Something was operating outside the boat. Soon the noises stopped. Nine minutes later the Boise relayed a message: the Remotely Operated Vehicle from the rescue ship had attached a steel cable to the stern of the Massachusetts. They were aware that the boat had to remain almost vertical in the water in order to maintain its buoyancy.

The Massachusetts gave a sudden small jolt as the steel cable became taut. Slowly the sub began to rise in the water. The crew in the control center watched intently as the depth gauge needle slowly moved away from the red line that represented its crush depth. Progress was agonizingly slow as the sub was gradually pulled toward the surface. Hours passed as the sub approached the surface of the Pacific Ocean.

Finally the Boise reported that the stern of the Massachusetts was visible from the deck of the rescue ship and Navy divers were in the water attaching additional steel cables to secure the Massachusetts. Slowly the sub was pulled and rotated to a level position.

“Con, radio room, we’re being hailed by the rescue ship. We have a working radio.”

Jacobs opened the water tight door between the control center and the radio and sonar rooms. The radio operator handed the headset to the Captain.

“This is Captain Paul Jacobs of the U.S.S. Massachusetts. Is it safe for us to come to the top of the sail?”

It was, but for now, only the sail. All other hatches were to remain closed and latched. Jacobs quickly returned to the control center and climbed the steel ladder to the round hatch that led to the sail. He turned the wheel to disengage the latches and pushed up on the hatch door. Water cascaded down on him and then stopped. He climbed the next steel ladder to the top of the sail and emerged into the daylight.

The back end of the rescue ship was open to the sea. Large cranes were standing at the end of each of the sides that rose four decks above the water. Two smaller cranes were at the far end of the rectangular bay. The two smaller cranes were dragging the Massachusetts into the bay in the center rear of the rescue ship. The two larger cranes supported the damaged bow. Silverton joined the Captain on the observation deck. They watched over the next hour as the submarine was slowly pulled into the bay in the middle of the rescue ship. As the bow got close to the stern of the rescue ship, the two large cranes began to move forward on their rails, moving the Massachusetts completely into the rescue ship bay.

The rescue ship was also equipped with a system of ballast tanks, and as the water was pumped out of the tanks, the rescue ship rose in the water. The Massachusetts gradually settled onto the supports that were part of the bottom of the rescue ship bay. As the rescue ship continued to rise, the water flowed out the open stern. A large door that had been under the water came into view and was raised by hydraulic cylinders to close up the stern of the ship. Once sealed against the sea, the water continued to be pumped out of the bay. One of the cranes lifted a metal walkway over to the deck of the Massachusetts connecting the deck of the sub to the side of the floating dry dock.

The crew of the Massachusetts packed up their sea bags and exited the submarine through the deck hatches. One by one they crossed the metal walkway, paused and looked at the damaged sub upon which they had almost died. They were escorted to a berthing area where they settled into bunks. From there they were led into the mess hall where they enjoyed their first hot meal in three days.

Jacobs, Silverton and Adams stood silently on the side deck of the rescue ship as first, an investigative team entered the Massachusetts, and then a medical crew entered. The three of them stood vigil as the bodies from the torpedo room were removed one at a time, all covered in black body bags. Eleven black bags, one of which carried the remains of Navy Lieutenant Tiffany Grimes who had given her life to save her shipmates.

Over the next several days each of the crew members was interviewed. The rescue ship arrived at the Bremerton ship yard and the crew moved to their barracks on the Navy Base. Jacobs, Silverton and Adams attended the Court of Inquiry that reviewed the entire incident from start to finish. They left the courtroom not knowing what the final disposition would be.