Chapter 4 recharge your batteries

The last lights of the New Jersey coast faded behind a dark gray horizon when the Explorer was at sea for 20 minutes.The exterior of the hull is dotted with heading lights of various colors, white on the mast, red on the port side and green on the starboard side.These lights all indicate that "an internal combustion engine ship is moving".In the dark sea, only these lights can witness the expedition of these 14 divers. Legge and Chatterton set the autopilot in the wheelhouse.It will take another six hours for the "Explorer" to reach the designated location.In the cabin below, the paid divers undress and lie on wooden bunks that line the edge of the cabin.Most divers can occupy their lucky positions.People spread out blankets or sleeping bags on the beds, they don't want to lie naked on the mattresses. The mattresses on the Explorer are the simple upholstery used in gyms.The sea in the middle of the night is full of romance, but sleeping on a mattress soaked in sweat and sea water, you can't feel this romantic atmosphere at all.

After nightfall, Legg and Chatterton continued to work in the wheelhouse, while the rest of the divers rested in the cabin.These divers include: — Dick.Shu, 49, of Palmyra, N.J., is an administrator at Princeton University's Plasma Physics Laboratory. — Kip.Kirkland, 41, of Trenton, New Jersey, police. —Steve.Feldman, 44, Manhattan, CBS backstage worker. — Paul.Skempinski, 37, of Piscataway, New Jersey, excavation contractor. — Ron.Ostroski, age unknown, background unknown. —Dog.Robert, 29, from Monmouth, New Jersey, owner of a cosmetics company. —Lloyd.Jiali Ke, 35 years old, from Yadli, Pennsylvania, a chemist.

—Kevin.Brennan, 30, of Bradley, New Jersey, commercial diver. —John.Hidman, 27, Cranford, New Jersey, owner of an excavation company. —John.Yuga, 27, of Garfield, New Jersey, is a dive shop manager. -mark.McMahon, 35, of Frahan Park, New Jersey, commercial diver. —Steve.Lombardo, 41, Staten Island, New York, physician. Some of them came in groups, planning to dive together: Shu and Kirkland, Feldman and Skempinski, Ostroski and Robert, McMahon and Yuga.Others dive alone, and many choose to do so for safety reasons - without a companion, he won't kill you in a panic.Most had known each other from previous dives, and at least had heard of each other's names, if not acquaintances.All have hunted for "mystery numbers" before, but only to find a few junk ships or rock piles according to these numbers.

The Atlantic sea was calm all night.At sunrise, according to the display of the Roland voyage instrument, the "Explorer" was only half a mile away from the target location.Legge turned off the autopilot and twin engines and focused on the detectors on the bottom of the ship.In the cabin, the divers also woke up, and the silence after the sound of the engine disappeared was like an alarm clock waking them all up. Legge slowly steered the boat closer to the target location.A silhouette appeared on the electronic screen of the ship's bottom detector. "There's something down there," Legge called to Chatterton.

"Yes, I see," replied Chatterton, "it looks like a ship lying on its side." "Jesus, John, it looks like it's over two hundred feet deep. I'll have to drive it up again to get a good look." Legge put a full port rudder, turned the stern, passed over it a second time, then a third, a fourth—a process they called "weeding."He watched constantly as the object on the ocean floor moved in and out of the rover's display.After several observations, according to the equipment, the object on the sea floor was 230 feet long, and one time it even showed a length of 260 feet.Brennan, Yuja and Hidman climbed the ladder into the wheelhouse.

"What did you find, Bill?" Yuga asked. "Deeper than I thought," Legg told them. "Whatever it is, it's deep—it's not going to be easy. I think it's about 230 feet down." In 1991, no diver had ever dived to a depth of 230 feet.Even the divers who explored the Dorian regularly never made it to the bottom of the ship, at 250 feet.A lot of people just stay at a shallower location, maybe 180 feet deep.Only the best divers attempt to dive to depths of 230 feet once or twice a year.Leger insisted that the object was located at a depth of 230 feet from the probe.To make matters worse, it's only 30 feet from the sand on the ocean floor.

Chatterton, who could dive to a depth of 230 feet, and Legge worked out a plan.Brennan and Hidman anchored, and Chatterton went out to investigate to determine the condition of the seabed object.If the risk is worth the risk and the depth is acceptable, he will tie the anchor line to the object.If it was a worthless hulk or rock, or if the depth was more than 260 feet, he would release the anchor and return to the surface, ending the dive.Legge agreed to his plan. By this time, other divers had gathered on deck, waiting for a final agreement.Legge opened the door and stepped out, leaning over the railing.

"Listen, guys, this thing I'm seeing, it's probably 220 to 230 feet down, and it's buried pretty deep. This dive might be like exploring the Dorian, and it might be more difficult. John prepares Go down and have a look first. If it's a useless junk boat, we'll leave it alone - if it's true, the junk boat sinks too fucking deep. If it's something of value, and it's not We will go to the place where we die. We wait for John to come up. No one is allowed to go down until John has checked clearly." Chatterton took his gear from the quarterdeck and prepared to dress, and Legge prepared to drop anchor to the bottom of the sea.After the anchor caught the wreck, Legg shut down the ship's engines.Now there is finally a connection between the Explorer and the behemoth under the sea.Legge climbed to the quarterdeck, where Chatterton was making a final check of the gauges on the cylinders.Soon all the people on board gathered around Chatterton, and Chatterton began to give the final instructions.

"Give me six minutes, then let the rope go," he told Legge, "so I'll have time to get down to the bottom of the ocean and have a look. If it's worthless and too deep, I'll release two cups. If you Seeing two cups means I didn't tie the rope to it and you can retract the anchor and I'll come up with the anchor. But if I only let out one cup it means this thing is worth a look , and not too deep. When I saw a cup, I drew the rope tight, for I had tied the rope to it." Chatterton turned to the rest of the divers and said: "Be sure to pay attention to safety, and don't make any problems. No one is allowed to go into the sea until I come back. I will briefly explain the following situation to you when I come back. Do you understand?"

Everyone nodded.Chatterton walked to the side of the boat, put the breathing regulator in his mouth, pulled the mask down and put it on his face, and started to adjust his watch.Six minutes later, Legge set his watch too.Legg returned to the wheelhouse, cut off the power of the voyage instrument, and hid the infrared chart taken by the detector in a drawer.He likes these companions.They are both his customers and his friends.But he can't take that risk, the numbers can't be stolen by anyone.Yuga, Brennan, and Hidman return to the bow.Chatterton knelt on the rail, then sideways into the water.

Chatterton swam below the surface, then grabbed the anchor line and let a little air out of the float bag to reduce buoyancy.The water flow is constantly rotating and impacting in all directions, and the anchor rope forms an S shape with the water flow.Chatterton gripped the rope tightly until his knuckles turned white. He sank to the bottom of the sea with both hands at the same time to prevent being washed away from the rope by the current. Under normal conditions, the descent to the depth of the wreck takes only two minutes.But five minutes after entering the water, Chatterton was still sinking with difficulty. "I'm so fucking anxious. They mustn't let go of the rope until I'm done," he said to himself.He had barely reached six minutes when he stepped on a pile of scrap metal near the sand.The dark green sea water rolled with white particles and drifted horizontally past his eyes, like a white Christmas spent in a tilted world in September.Visibility here is very low, maybe 5 feet.All he could see were smears of rust on the metal, round railings overhead, and looming strange hull shapes.Most likely, he thought, a barge, but at least it wasn't a pile of rocks.Chatterton glanced at the depth gauge: 218 feet.He visually measured the distance to the sand on the bottom of the sea: about 230 feet, which is the upper limit that other divers can bear.He wanted to find a slightly higher place to tie the rope, and he selected a railing at 210 feet.Then the rope was let down, and by a stroke of luck, it fell right beside him through the swirling current.Chatterton removed the anchor, swam to the rail, and wrapped the anchor and its 15-foot chain around the rail until it was fastened.He took a foam cup out of his bag and let it out, the dive was worth something. The sailors on the "Explorer" were lying on the bow of the ship and looking into the water.After seeing Chatterton's signal, Yuga ran to the kitchen and pushed open the door. "He put a cup," Yuga shouted, "we're going down!" The sailors tightened the boat's line, spooled the excess onto the bitt, and gathered with other divers on the Explorer's aft deck.Chatterton will stay at the bottom of the sea for 20 minutes, which means he needs an hour to decompress.No one used their diving equipment, everyone was waiting for Chatterton to come up. Chatterton clipped a flash to the hawse.The dark green waters were filled with white particles that drifted horizontally, and Chatterton could see them no further than 10 feet away.Under the illumination of the headlights, Chatterton could basically see the outline of the hull.The hull of this ship looks very smooth, not like it is used to transport cargo or equipment supplies, but like it is specially used for gliding.He swam to the top of the wreck, 205 feet below the sea floor, and began swimming against the current.He held onto the hull parts below carefully to keep himself from being swept away by the current.With every foot forward, a new sight appeared within the range of his headlamp, while the previous one quickly faded into the darkness.Chatterton's observation of the hull was like a slide show, carefully examining every scene he saw.Most of the hull is covered in white and orange anemones, making it impossible to make out its shape.After a while, Chatterton spotted an area littered with bent, rusted iron pipes tangled with broken, damaged cables.Beneath the pile of worn-out equipment, four intact cylinders, each about six feet long, were fastened to the hull. "It's all pipes," Chatterton thought. "It's a pipeline barge. Damn it, maybe a tanker or a sand barge." Chatterton continued to survey the top of the ship.The hum of nitrous narcosis began to play in his head like background music.After a few seconds he found a hatch and he stopped, barge hatches are not like this.He swam a little closer, and the hatch was inserted into the hull obliquely, and hatches are not usually built obliquely.Both passengers and cargo enter the cabin through the hatch, so the hatch should be vertical.Who would build hatches sloping?Chatterton poked his head into the hatch, his headlamp lighting it up, it was a cabin.He was sure of this because the walls of the cabin were still there.A frightened, broad-faced fish with a slender beard swam up to Chatterton's mirror, met his eyes, then turned around and disappeared into the depths of the wreck.Visibility is good in this enclosed space, because the white particles in the sea water are kept out.Beside one of the walls stood something, and Chatterton looked at it motionless. "The shape," he thought, "is a very strange, unusual thing." Chatterton's heart began to beat violently. Had he found anything of value?Or was his nitrogen narcosis symptoms beyond his imagination?He closed his eyes to calm down, then opened them, and the thing was still there. Tail fins, propellers, and cigar-like shapes, these are the shapes that often appear in thriller novels and horror movies, this is the shape that has been dusted in childhood fantasies, this is the shape that symbolizes power. It's a torpedo. A complete torpedo. Chatterton's chest rose and fell.He started a two-person conversation with himself, partly to ease the nitrogen narcosis, and partly because the sight before him was beyond his personal judgment. "I'm hallucinating," he said to himself. "I'm 220 feet below the sea. I'm exhausted. All I see is hallucinations." "You are now on top of a submarine," he replied. "There are no submarines in this part of the sea. I've read the books, I've studied them carefully. There are no submarines here. It's impossible." "You're on top of a submarine." "It's an illusion." "That's the shape of a torpedo, and there's nothing like it. Remember that sleek hull you saw just now, made for diving. It's a submarine, and you found a submarine." "It was an amazing dive." "No, John, it wasn't just an amazing dive. You found something priceless." Chatterton withdrew his head from the hatch.A minute ago he had no idea of ​​his position on the wreck.But now the torpedo gave him good hints.He knew that submarines could fire torpedoes from both ends.That is to say, he must be at one end of the bow or the stern.The torpedo is placed in the same direction as the water flow.If he drifted with the current he would quickly reach the other side of the wreck.In this case, it is easy to judge whether it is the bow or the stern of the ship.He let go of his hand, and the water seemed to wake up suddenly, enveloping his body furiously.Its flow was so violent that it was almost like the roar of a submarine, the roar of a huge machine that had been sleeping for many years and had just awakened.The current quickly tossed Chatterton off the anchor line, sending him toward the other side of the wreck.If it was even a second later, he would be thrown into the bottomless abyss.Instinctively, he stretched out a hand hastily, and he touched a solid object.Chatterton grabbed hold of a bent metal pole at the top of the wreck. Chatterton had seen pictures of the submarine before.The bow is at an obtuse downward and rearward angle, while the top of the stern is streamlined horizontally to accommodate the propeller and rudder at the bottom.Here is the bow, here is the bow of the submarine. He carefully observed the marine vegetation on the hull and the wear and tear of the metal structure.The year of manufacture of the wreck was then determined, and the submarine was from World War II.He has read relevant books and knows that no American submarine has sunk in this sea area.He took another close look at the wreck, and for a while he couldn't believe his eyes.But the facts are irrefutable. "I've found a submarine," Chatterton said aloud to himself. "I've found a German submarine from World War II." Chatterton's 20-minute dive was almost up.He swam to the strobe light clipped to the anchor line, trying to keep his body as close to the deck as possible to avoid the violent impact of the current.He observed the smooth hull below again, which was a graceful curve specially made for stealth, and this curve still looked full of mystery. Chatterton must go up now.His first decompression depth was 60 feet.During the ascent, his nitrogen narcosis began to subside.He tried to convince himself: "Maybe what you're seeing isn't a torpedo, maybe what you're seeing is a fan on a pipe barge. People who come up from 230 feet down the ocean often talk nonsense, and you might as well be talking nonsense. "But he knew very well in his mind that he was well under control of his nitrogen narcosis, and that it was a torpedo.Where he arrived was the bow of a submarine. Chatterton stopped at a depth of 60 feet.The sea is warmed by the sun.The last symptoms of nitrogen narcosis have also disappeared.The shape of the torpedo kept flashing in his mind, and the sinking records of submarines he had studied in the past few years now appeared in front of him like rolls of files.Some lie hundreds of miles to the north, others hundreds of miles to the south.According to records, no one sank on the bottom of the sea near this place.Is there a crew on the submarine?Did no one else in the world know that the submarine and its crew were sunk here?It's ridiculous.What is this submarine doing in the waters of New Jersey? Chatterton ascended to 40 feet and began a second decompression.Here, he remembered a dream he had a few years ago in which he found a mysterious submarine.But that submarine is Russian, and the crew is still on board.That was such an exciting dream.But he woke up quickly and realized that it was just a dream, because such a legendary scene never happened in real life. Chatterton stopped again at 30 feet and needed another 25 minutes to decompress before returning to the water to brief the other divers.On board, the divers gathered around the anchor line after seeing Chatterton's signal, discussing heatedly.They made all kinds of guesses about the situation on the bottom of the sea. "The tension is unbearable," Brennan told the others. "I'm going down, too." Brennan, with his long hair, moustache and playboy expression, could easily be mistaken for the Grateful Dead if you didn't know he was a serious diver. manager. While the other divers on the Explorer opted for modern drysuits, which can withstand the 40-degree cold at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean, Brennan preferred a traditional wetsuit, which he wore to search for Sink golf carts and dive in pools in rich people's backyards.Others tried to break Brennan's dress code. "Kevin," they asked, "is your suit from the Stone Age, or from the Mesozoic?" "You guys just want to stay warm," Brennan retorted. "That's what I wear to the Dorian, man. The Dorian! I'm hotter than all of y'all in this suit." Be nimble together. And, fuck it, if I want to pee, I'll do. You guys have to hold back in your drysuits. Fuck drysuits—I'll do it!" The other divers could only shake their heads helplessly after hearing his words. It was only 40 degrees on the Dorian.Wearing a wetsuit is no different than wearing a T-shirt.But Brennan actually does it successfully dive time after time in his wetsuit.There seemed to be something of a Houdini-like gift for escape in him. During Chatterton's ascent, Brennan had begun to dress in a wetsuit that only met the minimum diving requirements and had become his trademark.He didn't even bother to dress himself up in the latest sophisticated contraptions - he looked like a fucking Christmas tree in those clothes.To Brennan, the less gear you carry, the less chance of an accident.Once an accident happens on the bottom of the sea, you will be able to escape much faster. A few minutes later, Brennan went over the side of the Explorer.Seconds later, he was confronted by Chatterton.Chatterton is decompressing and trying to connect his underwater adventures with the real world.Brennan tapped him on the shoulder, and Chatterton jumped.Afterwards, Brennan held up his palm and shrugged his shoulders, their usual signal, "Found what?" Chatterton took a clipboard and pencil from his bag, and wrote two big, bold The word—submarine—occupies the entire slate. For a long time, Brennan didn't move.Then he started screaming through the regulator.His voice sounded like it was coming from under two pillows, but it was still audible. "Are you joking, John? Are you sure? For real?" Chatterton nodded. Brennan couldn't help but yelled, "Oh, my God! Oh, fuck! Oh, God!" Brennan could have dived directly to the bottom of the ocean to find the sub, but he didn't, which isn't the way a decent philander should be.He got back near the anchor line, then came out of the water and yanked the regulator out of his mouth. "Hi, Bill! Bill!" he called to Legge, who was still in the wheelhouse.Legg rushed out of the room, thinking that something had happened to Brennan—if it hadn't been for some trouble, a diver who had been in the water for a minute would not have surfaced and yelled. "What's the matter, Kevin?" Legg asked. "Hey, Bill! Bill! Listen: John says it's a submarine." Legg didn't have to listen any more, he ran down the wheelhouse stairs and called all the divers together. "Chatterton said it was a submarine." Until now, many divers had expressed reservations about exploring wrecks as deep as 230 feet.But the word "submarine" completely dispelled their concerns.The divers hurriedly began to equip themselves.Only Legge followed, for whom such depths had become impossible due to the damage of his long-term drinking.Brennan, who was at the anchor line, put the regulator back in his mouth and took the lead in the dive, making a few "come on" gestures as he passed Chatterton.A few minutes later, as Chatterton rose to 20 feet, the remaining 11 divers passed him and sprinted down toward the sub.Chatterton had not yet had a chance to explain to them the danger and depth of the wreck.He should have lied about the discovery of the submarine and prevented them from diving that day, but he didn't.The deepest part of the wreck was in the sand at 230 feet, and the top was also 210 feet—a depth that was close to the limit for them. After Chatterton decompressed, he swam below the Explorer and climbed up the aluminum ladder to the stern.Legge had been waiting for him, leaning against the rear fence, watching Chatterton remove his mask.The gin crippled Lyger's muscles and turned his skin yellower and yellower, but it didn't do him any harm at heart as an explorer.Deep in his heart he still longed for the stories buried in those mysterious places.He approached Chatterton, eyes half-closed in the sunlight, and nodded to his friend.He wanted to say something memorable, after all, it was a day they both dreamed of.But the two of them couldn't speak a word other than looking at each other. "I hear we made a good trip," Legge said at last. "Yes, Bill," Chatterton said, patting his friend on the shoulder, "we've made it a point." For a full minute, Legge could only shake his head and say "Shit."In his weakened body, every nerve yearns for the sea, like plants yearn for the sun, and he has never felt the urge to jump into the sea as much as he does now, and he hasn't touched a diving suit for a long time.But at this moment, as he watched Chatterton, his thoughts were already soaked in sea water. "Tell me, John," said Legge, "tell me everything. Tell me every detail of what you saw and heard and felt." So far, Chatterton has not told Legg anything else.No matter how good Chatterton had been on the Dorian and other wrecks before, Legg was the first to survey it.Every time he thought of this, Chatterton would urge himself to challenge deeper and more dangerous places.He hoped that one day he could reach even the Great Bill.Legg has never been to a place.And now, in Legge's eager eyes, Chatterton realized clearly that the day had finally come, and he told Legge all about it. After his presentation, Chatterton wanted Legge to ask some technical questions, asking him about the degradation of the metal on the wreck or the accumulation of silt in the torpedo compartment.But Legg said: "This submarine will change me. It will motivate me. It will restore my strength. It will make me return to my old career." While Legge helped Chatterton remove his gear, other divers began their survey of the wreck at a depth of 230 feet.After Chatterton left, the water gradually calmed down so that they could get as close to the ship as possible without too much effort. Ostroski and Robert carefully studied the overall outline and roof of the wreck, and both concluded that it was a submarine.The two swam slowly along the top of the wreck, careful to control their breathing so as not to consume too much air due to overexcitement.But they couldn't tell where the bow and stern were heading.Soon, they found a hole at the top of the steel hull. It seemed that the hole was formed after being severely damaged by the outside world, and the steel plate was forced to bend inward after being stressed.They stick their heads into the holes.In the light of their headlamps, they could see that it was riddled with broken pipes, machinery, valves and switches.They craned their necks to look up to the cabin roof, where the lights illuminated a tangle of cables hanging from the ceiling.Seeing this, their breathing couldn't help but quicken.There must be a story in this room.If they swam in quickly and then swam out quickly, they could probably find evidence that would identify the submarine.But none of them dared to go in.The answer might be found here, but once inside, there would be at least a hundred dangers that could kill them. Shu and Kirkland observed the wreck's cigar-like shape and judged its damage.They had both surveyed World War II-era wrecks, and this wreck was in much the same degree of wear and tear as those ships.Most of the time the two were trying to unscrew a valve that caught Kirkland's interest, but no matter what, the valve just wouldn't budge. Hidman dived alone, facing the pile of waste in front of him, he couldn't believe it was a submarine.But that view soon changed when he swam 10 feet above the sand, near the bow, and saw a slender tube going straight into the hull.He had read about submarines before, and it was a torpedo tube—a channel for launching weapons into the ocean. Skempinski and Feldman swam up to 40 feet from the boat in hopes of gaining a wider view, a bold decision given the depth and visibility.They looked at each other and nodded together: it was a submarine.They swam back to the strobes they had clipped to the anchor line.Both had surveyed the Texas Command Tower, the darkest deep-sea wreck in the Northeast.But this ship was darker, and they were parked close to the flash. McMahon and Yuga had been staying on top of the wreck, which they identified as a submarine from its streamlined hull.After swimming to higher ground, Yuga discovered the snorkel on the hull, which is the core component of the submarine's diving system.A minute later, Yuga also found the sloping hatch that Chatterton had seen.He also stuck his head in and illuminated the inside with a headlight, and he also saw the tail fin and propeller of the most famous marine weapon.They all hoped to make more observations, but while on board they all agreed that it would be safe to stay as close to the anchor line as possible for the first survey at this depth.Uja caught a lobster and, with McMahon, started back to the dive boat. Brennan, the first to dive after Chatterton, followed the current to what he thought was the bow of the boat.He drifted a little further forward, stopped 20 feet before the wreck, and turned to face the bow.He released some of the air in the float bag and dropped it gently onto the sand.He fell to his knees, worshiping this huge, real and mysterious object in front of him like a pilgrim.The water began to howl, but Brennan seemed to be rooted in the sand and remained motionless. "It's unbelievable," he thought, "I know it's a submarine. I know it's a German submarine. Look! It's right there in front of me, like something out of the movie From Under the Sea. I can even hear to the music of the film." While he was in the midst of wonder and azotosis, his mind told him to watch out for the water.He swam back and overcame the resistance of the current to return to the side of the anchor rope. He was out of breath and dizzy. "I'll never let this wreck go again," he swore to himself.Then he also started to return to the Explorer. Between 1939 and 1945, Germany assembled 1,167 submarines.With the ability to get close to each other without being detected, each submarine is the most terrible threat to the other-death is everywhere and lifeless.Some submarines sneaked as far as a few miles from the American coast, and they even picked up the signal of the radio station playing jazz music on the shore, and they could observe the lights of cars with periscopes.In one month in 1940, German submarines sank 66 Allied ships at the cost of one submarine.After being sunk by a submarine, the bodies of the people on board were scattered all over the coast of the United States. The scene at that time was horrible.But it's even more frightening to think that the enemy is there and unnoticed. Of the 1,167 submarines, 757 were sunk, captured, bombed in domestic ports and foreign bases, or destroyed by accident.Of the 859 submarines left behind for frontline patrols, 648 were sunk or captured while performing missions at sea, a loss rate of 75%.Some were sunk by enemy ships or aircraft, others by naval mines, and still others by mechanical or human failure.Because most of the submarines are sunk below the surface, 65 submarines are still unexplained.In sea areas where manpower cannot search, submarines are tombs that cannot be found. That day, when the divers surfaced and boarded the Explorer, they hurriedly removed their equipment and had a heated discussion.Everyone was excited because they found a submarine that no one had ever seen before.At the same time, everyone also put forward their own views.This could be U550, a submarine that sank in the open waters of the North Atlantic and has never been found.It can't be the US S5. Many divers have searched for that submarine and conducted a long study, and finally determined that it sank near Maryland.The crew may have escaped - a hatch was found open, but it's hard to tell.The sub must have been under some sort of heavy attack—no one spotted the conning tower, a conspicuously shaped observation device and entrance to the top of the sub that housed the periscope and served as a command post for the battle.Now everyone noticed the same question: Where did the command tower go? Then Yuga spoke.Before going to sea, he happened to walk to a naval bookstore, so he wanted to buy a book there to pass the time on board.The book he bought was "History of German Submarine Development and Technology".After he pulled out the book, the divers gathered around him, comparing what they saw with the illustrations in the book.Chatterton recognized the cylinder he had seen on the wreck, Yuga saw the snorkel, it must be German, it must be a German submarine. Chatterton and Legge left the crowd and crawled into the wheelhouse while the others continued their discussion.The sailors pulled the anchor up.Legg set a course back to Brielle, started his engine, and drove away from this point.Then he began a secret discussion with Chatterton. They agreed that the dive was historic.But finding the sub is only half the job. The other half is determining the sub's identity.They all look down on the divers who easily identify the wreck, and those people will just say lazily: "Here, we found a piece of porcelain with a Danish mark on the ship, so this ship is Danish." It didn't mean much to anyone else that Turton simply announced that they had spotted a submarine.But if the unambiguous identity of the discovered submarine is announced to the world, and the names of those unknown crew members are retrieved-this is what a writer of history should do. For Legg, there were more reasons to figure out the wreck's identity.Even as his health deteriorated, he remained undiminished in his interest in taking credit.Identifying this submarine will keep his mythical status in the diving world forever, and will spread his fame to the world outside of diving. Those who have never heard of the "San Diego" or even the "Dorian" only pay attention to submarines Everyone will hear his name.This will make him world famous.At the same time, identifying the identity of the wreck also means attracting more customers.当潜水包租船长抓住极少的机会发现一艘沉船后，在潜水员的脑海中，他的名字就会和这艘沉船联系在一起。他们就会希望与发现沉船的人一起出海，通过这个人在他们自己和历史之间建立起联系。 莱格和查特顿认为只需一到两次潜水就可以从沉船中取出一件有价值的物品来确定船的身份：一个商标、一个造船商的标记牌、一本日记或其他什么东西。在那之前，他们都有足够的理由不对任何人提起一个字。一艘无人发现过的潜艇——尤其是一艘德国潜艇——将会引来所有对手的注意。有人可能会在“探索者”号下次航行时尾随其后，然后找到沉船所在地。也有人可能会猜测沉船大概的位置，然后埋伏在附近，等“探索者”号抛锚停泊时、潜水员都下海以后，他们再进行突然袭击。如果对手得到了数字，他们就会捷足先登，窃取“探索者”号的声望和荣誉。任何人都会毫不犹豫地来抢夺这种毕生难求的发现机会。但在查特顿和莱格的脑海中，最严重的威胁源自同一个人。无需提到那个名字，两人都会用生命来保护这艘属于他们的沉船。 比兰达。 在1991年的东部海岸，著名的潜水包租船屈指可数。“探索者”号名列其中。另一艘是以长岛为基地的潜水船——瓦胡号。“瓦胡”号船长54英尺，船体由玻璃纤维制成，船长史蒂夫。比兰达当年55岁，水桶胸，白胖脸孔，215磅的身躯上满是肉褶。1980年《纽约日报》的人物特写将比兰达命名为“深海之王”。他似乎每天都要向那些愿意听到——尤其是不愿意听到——的人提起他的这个称号。 从二十世纪八十年代中期莱格进入租船行业的那天起，他和比兰达就互相鄙视对方。包括他们自己在内，没有人知道他们之间为什么如此憎恶，但多年以来他们一直互相指责，用语言诋毁彼此的名誉：莱格是个醉鬼，他不把潜水员的性命当回事，而且对顾客大加辱骂；比兰达是个一事无成的吹牛大王，他眼里只有钱，只会去那些早就被别人发现过的沉船上，从来没有什么新鲜玩意儿。顾客们经常在他们两人之间面临抉择。潜水员不是史蒂夫一派就是比尔一派。而那些承认与两人都出过海的潜水员也会同时遭到两人的唾弃。“你下周要跟”瓦胡“号去潜水？”莱格质问他的顾客。“你他妈是什么东西？他会把你的钱全部骗光。你真是个畜生。”在“瓦胡”号上也会遭遇同样的待遇。如果有人愚蠢地承认喜欢“探索者”号的话，“瓦胡”号的船员就会和比兰达一起对他大加谴责。“用水冲冲这个家伙，”“瓦胡”号的船员大声对顾客说，“他闻起来有一股'探索者'号的臭味。”一个“瓦胡”号的顾客在承认喜欢莱格以后，发现自己带到船上的精装书被扔到了舱底。1991年时，比兰达和莱格之间的不和已经远近闻名了。 在莱格的支持者看来，比兰达讨厌莱格的原因在于，莱格威胁到了他的地位。莱格酗酒，这是无可否认的，但他仍然是一个探险家、一个有独到见解的思想家、一个研究者、一个梦想家，更重要的是他拥有勇往直前的无畏精神。他的顾客在不断增加，因为他们都认为他是潜水界的神话。对很多人来说，比兰达看起来过于小心，在恶劣天气里，他只会待在岸上，而莱格却在与怒海搏斗。随着莱格声名的崛起，更多的顾客被吸引到他的船上。尽管比兰达的生意完全可以经受得住这样的损失，但他不能容忍对他威严的侮辱。 正是比兰达的话让正在勘查神秘潜艇的莱格感到担心。他敢确定，如果比兰达得到消息，他会不顾一切来抢夺这艘沉船。他听说过有关比兰达的故事——如果你曾经乘他的船出海，你必须要让他在你找到的沉船物品中任选一件。他曾半开玩笑地对他的顾客说，如果他们搭乘“瓦胡”号潜水并发现了“俄勒冈”号的船钟，他们最好把船钟作为礼物敬献给“深海之王”，否则就带着船钟游30英里自己返回岸上。比兰达的朋友遍布各界——海岸巡逻队成员、其他潜水包租船船长、渔船船主甚至东部潜艇协会成员，而比兰达是他们的头儿。莱格确信，如果发现潜艇的事情泄漏出去，比兰达将会直接找到沉船，他会制订三个目标，而且一定会达到：识别沉船的身份，霸占船上物品，然后获得荣耀。 查特顿认为即使“瓦胡”号不会觊觎沉船，其他的潜水员也会不顾一切地进行尝试。因此，保守秘密是至关重要的。 “下两个星期'探索者'号都被预定了，”莱格告诉查特顿，“我们21号再来，是个星期六。我们只叫这次来的这些人，任何其他的人都不找。这些人已经看到沉船了，沉船应当是他们的战利品。我们要订个协议，船上所有人都不能向其他人透露任何消息，这艘潜艇是属于我们的。” “我同意，”查特顿说。 莱格在舵手室中掌舵，而查特顿走下舵手室的白色楼梯，来到后甲板。他将所有的潜水员召集到艇舱中开会。潜水员们鱼贯而入，有的坐在木床上，有的坐在地板上，有的站在烤箱旁，有的站在贴有《花花公子》插页的墙边。他们被海水浸湿的头发还黏在头上，有些人手里拿着饼干和可乐。查特顿用他那略带长岛口音的男中音快速说道：“这是一次了不起的潜水，”他说道，“但我们的发现还远远不够，我们需要确定潜艇的身份。我们如果能够弄清楚，我们就将改写历史。” “我和比尔做了一个决定。我们9月21号会再来这里。这是一次秘密行动——只有你们受到邀请，没有其他的人。还有很多优秀的潜水员，他们肯定都非常渴望能来这里。但我们不会让他们来。如果有人不打算参加，那么你的位置就会空着，不会找其他人来填补。” “但我们必须保守秘密。如果将我们发现潜艇这件事情泄漏出去，那么到时就会有至少两百个人爬满这里。” 查特顿停了一会，没有说一句话。他要求每个人发誓保守秘密。“每个潜水员，”他说，“都必须发誓保守秘密，不能将今天的发现透漏一个字。”如果有人问起今天做过些什么，就说他们去“派克”号潜水了。他要求他们将“潜艇”这个词从他们的词典中消除。他要求他们不对任何人提起这件事，直到他们查明潜艇的身份。 “关于这件事我们必须保持意见一致。”查特顿说，“你们中的每个人都必须同意。即使这个屋里有一个人觉得保守秘密不舒服，那么就太好了，太妙了。下次出海就完全自由了，'探索者'号对所有人开放，谁想来都可以。所以我现在问你们：每个人都同意吗？” 潜水包租船进行深海沉船探险并不是一项团体活动。所有乘船出海的潜水员只不过将船当作交通工具，而不是要与船上的其他人进行联合行动。每个潜水员都有自己的计划，都寻找自己感兴趣的物品，都想自己去探索去发现。不管彼此如何友好，深海沉船潜水员都将自己看作是独立的个体。在充满危险的海域中，这种想法能够帮助他们存活下来。而现在，查特顿要求14个人组成一个唯一的、缄默的有机体。达成这种协议在潜水包租船上是从来没有过的事情。 船上鸦雀无声，有些人是在这次出行中才刚刚相识的。 而后，潜水员们走了过来，一个接一个地说道： "I agree." "me too." “我不会泄漏半句。” "Count me in." “我会闭嘴的。” 仅仅一分钟所有的人都发誓保守秘密。这艘潜艇是属于他们的，这只是他们的潜艇。 “探索者”号满载希望驶向布里勒。潜水员们传阅着尤加关于潜艇的那本书，并努力抑制自己激动的心情，他们想到：“我们知道需要花时间去研究，而且情况会非常复杂，但只要我们不断努力，我们就有希望弄清整件事情的来龙去脉。”他们在艇舱内蹦来蹦去，不断舞动。夜幕降临后，他们开始设想种种可以解释这艘潜艇身份的可能性。在满载成功的返航途中，所有的理论看上去都可信，所有的想法都有可能是真的：希特勒是不是曾经登上过这艘潜艇？是不是有传言说他在二战末期试图乘潜艇逃离德国？也许船上装满了纳粹的黄金。六个小时之后，大约晚上9点钟，莱格将船驶回码头，潜水员们开始收拾他们的装备。 其中一名叫史蒂夫。费德曼的潜水员留在后面等查特顿从舵手室中出来。在船上的14个人之中，费德曼接触这项运动的时间最短。在他34岁的时候经历了一场痛苦的离婚，然后他就疯狂地迷上了潜水运动。事实上，当时他希望自己成为一名潜水教练，之后他在曼哈顿一个潜水班执教。船上大部分潜水员，包括查特顿自己以前都未见过费德曼。他经常在旅游胜地的温暖海水中潜水，他在海中抓龙虾或乘着保罗。赫普勒船长著名的“星期三”号沿着长岛游览。查特顿向后甲板走去的时候，费德曼拦住了他。 “约翰，我想谢谢你，”他说，“这次潜水太棒了，而且很重要，实在是太重要了。我简直等不及了。我是说，想到能够再回去，我真是太兴奋了。我希望能够感谢你和比尔让我有机会参与这样的潜水活动。这就像是美梦成真的感觉。” “我也这么觉得的，伙计，”查特顿说，“这正是我们梦寐以求的事情。” “探索者”号的秘密只保守了两个小时。午夜时分，凯文。布伦南拨通了他的密友瑞奇。柯勒的电话，柯勒是布鲁克林人。 尽管柯勒只有29岁，但他已经是东部海岸最有才华、最勇敢的深海沉船潜水员之一。他还是一名业余历史学家，对所有有关德国的东西都充满热情。对布伦南来说，对他的朋友保守这么令人兴奋的秘密简直就是一种背叛。本来柯勒是可以受邀随“探索者”号出海的，但是他和查特顿之间长期不和。柯勒以前是“史蒂夫派”的，虽然后来他和比兰达闹翻了，但他和查特顿之间的矛盾以及和比兰达之间曾有的关系足以使他不被“探索者”号所欢迎。 柯勒卧室的电话铃响了起来。 “瑞奇，伙计，瑞奇，醒醒，我是凯文。” “现在都几点了……？” “听着，伙计，醒醒，我们真的找到好东西了。” “你们找着什么了？现在都几点了？” “是这样，瑞奇——我不能告诉你，我们找着了什么。” 柯勒的妻子转过身来盯着柯勒，他拿起电话走进厨房。 “凯文，闭嘴。告诉我你们找着什么了。” “不行，伙计，我发过誓了。我发誓不会告诉别人。你别逼我告诉你。” “什么？凯文，你不能这样做啊，你大半夜给我打电话，然后告诉我你找到了很棒的东西，你认为我还能回去接着睡吗？快告诉我。” “不行，伙计。瑞奇，求求你，别逼我。你好好猜猜，如果你猜对了，我是不会否认的。” 柯勒穿着睡衣，睡眼惺忪地坐在厨房的桌子上，开始猜起来。是艘客轮吗？no.是驳船？no.是“卡依鲁”号？ “卡罗来那”号？还是“特克塞尔”号？No, no, neither.这种猜谜活动又延续了五分钟，但每次布伦南的回答都是“不”。柯勒站起来，在厨房里走来走去。他已经开始气血上涌了。 “凯文，你他妈的给个提示啊！我急得快跳起来了。” 布伦南想了一会。然后用他像卡通人物一样的浓重的意大利口音说道：“不是一艘MY船，那么就是一艘……” “什么？”柯勒问道。 “这就是我的提示，”布伦南说道，要么猜下去，要么就算了，“这不是一艘MY船，而是一艘……” “你喝多了吗，凯文？” “这是给你的提示，瑞奇。” 在接下来的五分钟里，布伦南一直在重复着这句话。在接下来的五分钟里，柯勒一边来回踱步，一边用那些恐怕只有布鲁克林人才听得懂的话咒骂他的朋友。这时，他脑海中突然灵光一闪：不是一艘MY船，那就是一艘YOU船。是一艘潜艇（YOU与Uboat中的U同音—译注）。 “你们发现了一艘潜艇？” “妈的，是啊，瑞奇，我们确实发现了一艘潜艇。” 柯勒一屁股坐了下来。一艘潜艇？但是在新泽西海域是没有潜艇的。 “可能是'刺鱼'号吧，”柯勒终于说道，他指的是二十世纪六十年代美国沉在海底用于射击练习的二战退役潜艇，“如果真是潜艇，那么就是'刺鱼'号。” “不，瑞奇！我跪在了它前面的沙地上。我抬头向上看，听到了《从海底出击》的音乐声—哒哒哒哒！你别告诉任何人。这是高度机密。” “我现在就给比尔。莱格打电话。”柯勒说，“我要参加下次的行动。” “别！别！千万别那样，瑞奇！你什么都不能说。” 最后柯勒终于同意保守秘密。他和布伦南一样，那夜辗转反侧，脑海中一直都重复播放着《从海底出击》中的镜头。 同一天晚上，莱格打开一瓶酒庆祝他的伟大发现。每喝一口酒，他就越觉得保守这个秘密是自私的，而且油然而生一种犯罪感。冰块在他的玻璃杯中叮当作响，他叫来丹尼。克伦威尔，“探索者”号上的一名助手，由于生意上的事，他没能跟随“探索者”号一起出海。莱格甚至没有费劲去给他一个提示，就直接说道：“我们发现了一艘潜艇，”他口齿不清地说道，“不要告诉任何一个人。” 第二天早晨，当约翰。尤加开始在潜水用品店打钟卡上班时，他接到了乔。特祖奥里的电话。特祖奥里是一艘潜水包租船的船长，他与尤加的关系很好，是他店里的常客。 “嗨，尤加，我是乔。你上次出海的情况怎么样？” “噢，糟糕透了。就找到一堆岩石，然后我们换地方了，到'派克'号去潜水了。” “哦，你们白跑了吧，”特祖奥里说道，“过一阵和你联系，伙计。” 五分钟后，电话铃再次响了起来，尤加拿起了电话。 “我是乔！我刚和拉尔夫通过电话，他说丹尼。克伦威尔告诉他，比尔。莱格说找到了一艘潜艇。” 尤加的心脏像是被猛击了一拳。他喜欢特祖奥里，讨厌对他撒谎，但他是发过誓的。 “我不知道你在说什么，乔。确实是一堆岩石，伙计。不信你打电话问比尔。” 尤加挂掉电话后，赶紧打电话给莱格，他要赶在乔前面。 “比尔，我是尤加。到底发生什么事了？你是不是告诉别人了。” “该死的丹尼。克伦威尔！”莱格勃然大怒，“我告所过他，不要告诉别人。” 其他的潜水员基本上都严格保守了秘密。有些人告诉了家里人或那些不是潜水员的朋友，有些人不愿冒险，甚至连妻子都没有告诉。很快莱格的鲁莽举动就传到了查特顿的耳朵里。他清楚他朋友的弱点，对他这样的行为并不吃惊。他建议莱格多说一些莫名其妙的话——比如星期一说找到了潜艇，星期二说找到了“考尔瓦利斯”号，星期三就说找到了“卡罗来那”号，等等等等，直到没人相信他说的话为止。莱格咕哝着答应试一试。查特顿听到了冰块的声音。看来下次出海的时候，他们得提高警惕，千万不能让他一冲动就跳下海去找沉船。 两个星期对这些保守秘密的潜水员来说简直是一种折磨。由于只能待在陆地上，他们不得不选择另一项工作来消耗精力——研究相关书籍。 很多人在家里或图书馆独自研读。他们研究了这一地区的沉船记录、潜艇历史、和二战时期的海军记录。他们的计划就是：找到所有沉没在神秘沉船附近的潜艇记录。根据研究，两艘潜艇具备了与他们发现的沉船相近的条件。 1944年4月，盟军在北纬40°09′，西经69°44′击沉了U550潜艇。这些经纬度数字听起来就像是在新泽西海域。他们找到了航海图，在上面找到经纬度的交汇点，这个地方在神秘沉船以北100英里处，仍然在新泽西海域，但位置并不是非常一致。但至今为止，还没有人发现U550.对很多潜水员来说，100英里的误差是可以解释的：也许U550的沉没位置记载得不是很精确；也许U550在被盟军击中后逃到了神秘潜艇沉没的海域。也许发生了其他的什么事——U550是有记载的沉没在新泽西海域的唯一一艘潜艇。潜水员们认为很有可能就是U550. 另一个可能就是U521.它于1943年6月沉在大概北纬37°43′，西经73°16′的地方。潜水员们再次参照了航海图。这个地方位于弗吉尼亚海域，在青卡蒂湾以东大约90英里处。尽管不是在新泽西海域，但这里距神秘沉船只有120英里。与U550一样，潜水员们认为这样的误差是可以解释的。而且U521与U550一样，到目前为止都没有被找到。 潜水员们互通电话，激动地宣布自己的发现：不是U550就是U521——这是不容置疑的。 尤加给华盛顿的国家档案馆写了一封信。他写道：“我希望贵馆能够为我提供所有与潜艇有关的资料，”然后他附上了自己的姓名和地址。 一周以后，尤加收到了档案馆的回信。 “尤加先生，如果我们把关于潜艇的资料堆起来的话可以从地板摞到天花板，宽度可以达到43英尺。这还只是文本，不包括图表。如果您要做研究的话，您只能亲自到我们档案馆来一趟了。” 莱格对U550和U521做了初步的研究。他贪婪地阅读有关这两艘潜艇的资料，然后得出了他的推论。据记载，这两艘潜艇都沉没在这艘神秘沉船的附近。到目前为止，两艘潜艇都没有被找到。在莱格看来，这就证明他们发现的潜艇不是U550就是U521.他打电话给查特顿，让他下班后到“探索者”号来找他。 黄昏时候，查特顿将车停在了“恐怖酒吧”的停车场中。莱格在“探索者”号的后甲板上，盯着收集来的大堆资料。 “约翰，快上来，看看这些东西，”莱格召唤查特顿，“你要做好心理准备啊。” 在接下来的一个小时中，莱格给查特顿讲述了U550和U521的沉没情况。每涉及一个细节，查特顿就更加确信这两艘潜艇都不可能是那艘神秘沉船。莱格讲完后，查特顿摇了摇头。 “比尔，不可能。” “你是什么意思，不可能？” “这两艘潜艇都不是。” “你他妈什么意思？为什么不是？” “比尔，看看资料上U550沉没的位置。离我们那里有100英里。这是段不小的距离——” “盟军肯定弄错了地点。”莱格打短了查特顿的话，“当时正在激战，肯定有人搞错了。手里的笔一划——” “不可能发生这种事情，比尔。当时那里有三艘驱逐舰。他们断定这个地点是准确无误的——看看这些攻击报告。你能说这三艘不同的军舰同时弄错了地点，而且地点错的都一样吗？你能说这些驱逐舰可以准确地找到北爱尔兰，却不能准确地在美国海域找到他们自己的位置吗？” 莱格喘着粗气一言不发。查特顿有些不好意思地耸耸肩。莱格的眼中喷出了怒火。 “那么，我们发现的肯定是U521，”莱格说，“如果不是U550，就他妈一定是U521.” “也不可能是521，”查特顿说道，“美国海军军舰是在美国近海作战。你能相信海军判断不出他们是在巴尔的摩还是布里勒沿岸吗？海军判断不出他们自己的位置？那你怎么能出海60英里还能判断出自己的位置？” 莱格前额的血管绷了出来。 “好啊，你真是聪明绝顶！那么它到底是哪艘潜艇？” “我不知道，比尔。但我确定它不是那两艘。” 几天后，查特顿决定出门一趟。芝加哥科学工业博物馆收藏着一艘U505潜艇，是盟军于1944年在非洲海岸俘获的IXC型潜艇。潜艇保存完好，维持原状，允许公众参观。 “我想到潜艇里感觉一下，”查特顿对他的妻子凯西说，“我对潜艇一无所知。但是我想站到里面好好看看。” 若选择在一周工作日中临时乘一次飞机，航空公司通常都要求旅客支付一笔额外费用，但查特顿还是买了机票。他请了一天假。他准备在芝加哥停留几个小时，然后当天晚上返回新泽西。 查特顿于9月18日星期三抵达芝加哥奥海尔机场。距离“探索者”号再次出海的日期只有三天了。他乘出租车找到博物馆，根据指示牌走进了潜艇。他与进行实地考察的小学生、兴趣索然的退休人员以及几个军事爱好者站成一排。他在心里考虑着，在乘飞机返回新泽西之前，还可以再参观几次？