Ice Station Nautilus (7 page)

Stepanov was no longer worried about detection. The American crew had discovered they were following a decoy much quicker than he expected, and their captain had run back up the decoy’s track, directly toward
Dolgoruky
. Assuming the American submarine was traveling at twenty knots, it would close the remaining distance in forty-five seconds.

Dolgoruky
was at all stop. They could not turn out of the way. That left only two options—up, or down. An Emergency Blow would send
Dolgoruky
surging toward the ice, crushing the conning tower and maybe even puncturing the pressure hull. However,
Dolgoruky
was already descending, and maybe they could drop below the American submarine in time.

Stepanov shouted out, “Disengage Hovering! Flood all ballast tanks!”

USS
NORTH DAKOTA

Commander Tolbert leaned over the navigation plot, examining the white dot representing
North Dakota
. They were on course three-five-eight, approaching the point where the Russian captain had launched the decoy, but they had not yet regained
Yury Dolgoruky
on any sensor. However, they were traveling at ahead full, blunting the range of their acoustic sensors, and Tolbert decided to slow and take a look around.

“Pilot, ahead two-thirds.”

The Pilot entered the new propulsion order and as
North Dakota
slowed, the Sonar Supervisor announced, “Conn, Sonar. Hold a new broadband contact on the spherical array, designated Sierra three-seven, bearing three-five-eight. Analyzing.”

Tolbert acknowledged the unusual report. Initial broadband gains were almost always merchant ships, and there were no merchants under the ice.

Chief Bush followed up, “Conn, Sonar. Hold the contact at zero elevation. SNR has increased threefold since we gained contact and continues to rise.”

The Sonar Supervisor’s report made no sense. How could Signal-to-Noise Ratio triple in only twenty seconds? He glanced at the MFA display on one of the sonar consoles, noting the white-banded return from their active pulse, painting the image of an underwater ice ridge. A ridge they were passing under now.

It was at that moment that Tolbert understood. The broadband contact they had picked up was
Dolgoruky,
dropping below the ice keel she had been hiding behind. They had picked her up on broadband, which meant she was close, and if signal strength had tripled in twenty seconds, that meant—

North Dakota
jolted upward, knocking Tolbert off balance. He grabbed on to the navigation plot as a metallic screech tore through the air. Seconds later, everyone in Control was thrown forward as
North Dakota
slowed suddenly and the bow tilted downward.

10

USS
NORTH DAKOTA
• K-535
YURY DOLGORUKY

USS
NORTH DAKOTA

The second jolt was more violent than the first, knocking every watchstander not buckled into their chairs to the deck and launching every unsecured item toward the forward bulkhead. The loose items crashed to the deck as the metallic screeching ceased, and
North Dakota
’s bow swung up to an even keel. The silence lasted for only a few seconds. The Flooding Alarm sounded, followed by a report blaring from the emergency 4-MC system.

“Flooding in the Engine Room! Flooding in Shaft Alley!”

The Co-Pilot reached toward the Ship Control Station and turned toward Commander Tolbert, awaiting direction to Emergency Blow. As Tolbert caught the Co-Pilot’s eyes, he realized an Emergency Blow would send them careening toward the surface in an uncontrollable ascent, smashing into the ice cap.

“Do
not
Emergency Blow!” Tolbert shouted.

The Pilot announced another crisis. “Maneuvering reports all stop!”

A 7-MC report from the Engineering Officer of the Watch followed. “Conn, Maneuvering. The shaft has seized. Unable to answer bells.”

Tolbert acknowledged, then called out, “Secure the Fire Control Tracking Party.” He turned to Lieutenant Commander Sites. “Take charge in the Engine Room.”

As the XO headed aft, accompanied by the Engineer Officer,
North Dakota
’s bow began tilting upward. They were taking on water aft. Tolbert checked
North Dakota
’s depth on the Ship Control Station. They were at three hundred feet and sinking. The Co-Pilot had lined up the drain pump to the Engine Room bilges, but more water was flooding in than was being pumped off.

Tolbert ordered, “Co-Pilot, line up the trim pump to take a suction on the drain system.”

The Co-Pilot complied and both pumps began dewatering the Engine Room. Tolbert checked the ship’s depth again. They were at 350 feet, still sinking.

The lights flickered in Control, and Tolbert realized Maneuvering had split the vital and non-vital electrical buses. That meant they were about to lose the turbine generators.

The 7-MC report explained. “Control, Maneuvering. Loss of all condensate pumps due to flooding.”

The condensate pumps sent water from the turbine hotwells into the feed system, where it was sent into the steam generators to be turned into steam. No condensate pumps meant no steam, and no steam meant no propulsion or electricity. As
North Dakota
sank toward the bottom of the Barents Sea, Tolbert realized the situation was spiraling out of control.

YURY DOLGORUKY

Stepanov knew instantly they were in dire straits. The Compensation Officer was flooding all variable ballast tanks to increase
Dolgoruky
’s descent rate when Stepanov felt the first impact. A metallic grinding from above pierced the Central Command Post, and Stepanov concluded the top of
Dolgoruky
’s conning tower had impacted the underside of the American submarine, gouging the bottom of its hull as it passed by. Then a second jolt hit, accompanied by a horrible wrenching sound as Stepanov and the other watchstanders were knocked to the deck.
Dolgoruky
’s conning tower must have caught the edge of the American submarine’s propulsor. As Stepanov landed on the deck, water flooded into the Command Post from around the periscope barrels.

Water sprayed in every direction, bouncing off bulkheads and equipment consoles. Stepanov wiped the cold water from his eyes as he pulled himself to his feet, assessing the damage. The tops of both periscope barrels were deformed. The conning tower must have been severely damaged and the periscopes bent.

They could not stop the flooding. Their only hope was that the flooding was within the capacity of the drain pumps. As Stepanov tried to make that assessment, the submarine’s flooding alarm sounded, followed by reports from Compartments Two and Three. There was flooding from hatches to the escape pod in the conning tower.

As First Officer Pavlov headed aft to check on the escape pod, Stepanov knew this was a disastrous scenario. There was no way to stop the flooding, and an Emergency Blow under the ice would do them no good. He glanced at the depth gage. They were at 160 meters and sinking, and the bow began tilting downward due to the water flooding into the two forward compartments. The drain pumps were not keeping up. Confirming Stepanov’s assessment, water surged into the Command Post from the level below.

They had to abandon the Central Command Post, and in the process, abandon hope they would gain control of the situation. He shouted as loud as he could, hoping he was heard over the roar of the inrushing water.

“Evacuate to Compartment One!” The watchstanders turned toward him and he shouted again, pointing toward the watertight door.

As the frigid water swirled around their knees, the watchstanders abandoned their posts, trying to maintain their balance as
Dolgoruky
’s down angle increased. Stepanov was the last to leave the Command Post, and as he did, he realized
Yury Dolgoruky
was lost.

USS
NORTH DAKOTA

Four hundred feet and still sinking.

It was surprisingly quiet in Control; there was little more Tolbert and the Control Room watchstanders could do. They needed to stop the flooding, and
North Dakota
’s fate would be determined by personnel in the Engine Room. As Tolbert awaited the outcome, there was a modicum of good news. The submarine’s up angle had steadied. Now that the trim and drain pumps were dewatering the Engine Room bilges, they were keeping up with the flooding. However,
North Dakota
was still negatively buoyant and continued sinking.

“Passing five hundred feet,” the Co-Pilot announced.

Tolbert tried to imagine what it was like in the Engine Room. At a depth of five hundred feet, pressure was fifteen times greater than at sea level, and the water would shoot into the submarine with such force that personnel could not risk crossing paths with the high-pressure streams, which could cut through flesh and bone. The water would bounce off bulkheads and equipment, making it difficult to see, and the approach toward the flooding would be treacherous.

*   *   *

Lieutenant Commander George Sites leaned back against the hot surface of the port main engine, taking cover from the high-pressure water spraying in too many directions to count. Beside him was the Engineer, along with a phone talker wearing a sound-powered phone headset, while Sites held a WIFCOM radio in his hand. The three men were pinned down by the flooding, unable to get a clear look at the source or approach any closer. On the other side of the Engine Room, Sites spotted Chief Machinist Mate Tony Scalise, head of Machinery Division, and two other machinist mates.

Sites shouted into the WIFCOM so he’d be heard over the inrushing ocean. “Chief Scalise, XO. Have you determined the source of flooding?”

“XO, Scalise. The flooding is from shaft seals.”

A pit formed in Sites’s stomach. That was the one place they could not afford to have flooding. Other hull penetrations had primary and backup valves that could be shut, isolating breaches. The shaft had elaborate seals instead. If they failed, there was no valve to shut, but older submarines had an emergency “boot,” which could be inflated around the shaft to stop flooding. Unfortunately, NAVSEA engineers, in their infinite wisdom, had not designed an inflatable boot into Virginia class submarines.

They were screwed.

Movement on the other side of the Engine Room caught Sites’s attention. Chief Scalise and the two mechanics were moving aft, working their way between the high-pressure streams ricocheting throughout the Engine Room. The two Petty Officers each carried a green tool kit.

Sites shouted into his WIFCOM again. “Scalise, XO. What is your plan?”

Scalise replied, “Our shaft seals are designed so they can be tightened down, mating with the shaft. We just have to get there.”

Scalise and the other two mechanics disappeared as they worked their way aft. A few minutes later, the torrent of water streaming into the Engine Room abated, then slowed to a trickle before ceasing altogether.

*   *   *

“Control, Maneuvering. The flooding is stopped.”

Tolbert acknowledged the report, and he felt the submarine’s deck returning to an even keel as the trim and drain pumps dewatered the Engine Room bilges. Depth was six hundred feet. They were still sinking, but the rate was slowing.

North Dakota
returned to an even keel at the same time the submarine stopped sinking, then the numbers on the depth gage reversed.
North Dakota
began rising toward the surface.

“Co-Pilot,” Tolbert ordered. “Hover at three hundred feet.”

YURY DOLGORUKY

As
Dolgoruky
headed toward the ocean floor, Stepanov pulled himself into Compartment One. There was no one behind him and he ordered the watertight door sealed. As the door swung shut, he spotted three men in Compartment Two—Michman Glinka and the submarine’s senior enlisted man, Chief Ship Starshina Egor Lukin, dragging their unconscious First Officer. As the rising water began surging through the opening into Compartment One, Stepanov assessed whether they could shut the door if he waited. He ordered the door kept open.

“Hurry!” Stepanov shouted.

When Glinka and Lukin reached the doorway, Stepanov helped drag his First Officer, who was bleeding heavily from a head laceration, into the compartment. Glinka and Lukin followed and Stepanov ordered the door shut. As water surged through the doorway, their feet slipped on the wet, sloping deck. Stepanov lent a shoulder and the door inched shut. Once closed, Stepanov spun the handwheel, engaging the lugs.

Dolgoruky
shuddered and Stepanov and the others flew backward, bouncing off equipment, while water burst from the ventilation vents. Lukin clambered to his feet and shut the ventilation isolation valve, completely sealing Compartment One. A moment later, the lights in the compartment extinguished, enveloping Stepanov and his men in darkness.

11

USS
NORTH DAKOTA

As
North Dakota
hovered at three hundred feet, Tolbert assessed the condition of his crew and ship. The flooding had been stopped and the Engine Room bilges were being dewatered. A dozen watchstanders in Control had been knocked to the deck by the second impact, but they had picked themselves up and no one appeared injured. The situation could have been far worse.

Lieutenant Commander Sites entered Control. He was soaked through and shivering.

“Damn, that water is cold,” he said as he stopped beside Tolbert.

“Well done, XO,” Tolbert replied.

“The credit goes to Chief Scalise and M-Division. They tightened the shaft seals.”

Tolbert nodded. “I’ll thank them when I get a chance. What’s the status of the Engine Room?”

“Main propulsion is out. The propulsor must have been damaged in the collision, bending the shaft, which caused the flooding.”

“Let’s hope the Outboard still works,” Tolbert said. “It won’t move us fast, but two knots is better than zero knots.”