Smoke on the Water: The War in the South Atlantic - Part 2 (Timeline 102762 Book 17) by Philip James

Author:Philip, James
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-10-27T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 25

23:45 Hours

ARA Santiago del Estero, Estrecho de San Carlos

There was no Moon, it was hidden behind the thick overcast high above the seas between the main western and eastern islands of the archipelago. The water was ethereally calm, almost glassy and here and there a wraith of mist swirled, further blurring and reducing visibility.

Alberto Castro Fox had been unconsciously gauging the changing conditions for some minutes as he chatted with the tall Combat Engineering Officer at his shoulder. He had heard about this phenomenon in the Estrecho de San Carlos but guessed that it was more usually a day time, early morning occurrence. The fog, or as the British called it, a ‘haar’ formed out at sea when warmer air moved over much colder water, and then was blown over land, or where there was a loch or inlet, channelled inland. Most famously, this regularly happened at San Francisco Bay as the resulting pea-souper fog rolled through the Golden Gate, often completely obscuring the great bridge which bore its name.

However, any hope that the mist might conceal the Santiago del Estero before the first of the approaching ships was upon her was forlorn. The haar was patchy at its leading edge and presently, the submarine was in relatively clear airs. Worse, the boat was roughly equidistant, in mid-channel between North Swan Island and Praltos Point on the eastern shore. Ironically, in normal circumstances there would have been enough water under her keel to allow her to submerge – around forty metres or so – but, of course, Castro Fox knew that if he attempted to dive it would be a one-way trip to the bottom of the Estrecho de San Carlos.

His booted right foot knocked against the weighted bundle that carried the boat’s code books and his log. That would immediately go over the side if there was any possibility of the submarine falling into enemy hands.

The oncoming ships were just elusive black motes in a man’s eye, darker shades of blackness against the land, their presence betrayed only by their movement, the closest still about a thousand metres to the north.

There was no land nearby, the submarine’s conning tower must stick out like a sore thumb on those ships’ radars, even if it was moving so slowly an unwary operator might interpret the ‘blip’ on his screen as some kind of reflection of North Swan Island, which was now almost directly behind the boat, albeit many kilometres away…

No, now I am clutching at straws…

“I see them now!” Lieutenant Colonel Leopoldo Galtieri exclaimed, quietly triumphant as if he had no real appreciation of the deadly peril bearing down upon him.

Castro Fox stepped over to the hatch and called down.

“Are those ships sounding?”

“Yes, sir.”

The submarine’s commanding officer stood up, his frown invisible in the near Stygian gloom. He looked to Galtieri.

“You may be our magic charm tonight, Colonel.”

“How so?”

“I think the English are more worried about running onto a rock than looking for submarines. That’s probably why they are out in the middle of the Sound, they don’t trust their charts.

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