The Dive by Stephen McGinty

Author:Stephen McGinty [McGinty, Stephen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-06-10T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

In the bunk, Roger Mallinson is holding his head and breathing through the pain. The headache previously ascribed to the inverted sleeping position has returned and can no longer be blamed on the elevation of his feet above his head. The CO2 in the atmosphere is rising, and clearly he is more susceptible to its effect than Chapman.

Chapman, meanwhile, is brooding in his bunk about the deteriorating communication with the surface. Often when they attempt to get through to the surface all they can hear is the chatter and squeaks of dolphins. This infuriates Chapman, but Mallinson finds it comforting, in spite of the problems the mammals present. Over the course of the morning, Hecate has failed to contact them on the hour and half-hour as agreed, and every missed call heightens Chapman’s anxiety and sense of isolation. What if all communication from the surface ceased? This is the thought that preoccupies Chapman, though rather than simply worry, he prefers to worry and prepare. In the dark he pats around until he finds his small notebook and formulates a rudimentary communication system, writing: ‘SIGNALS – ONE GRENADE EVERY HOUR. 3 WHEN RECOVERY OPS START.’ He knows Hecate will have small explosives on board which, detonated at a depth of 20 feet, will be picked up by Pisces III’s underwater telephone as well as every sea creature within a radius of 20 miles or more. The idea provides some brief comfort, though when he discusses it with the surface later, they veto the plan.

Communication improves after 11 am, and when Henderson breaks the news that Voyager has left Cork harbour and is now on her way back to the accident site, Mallinson and Chapman share a quarter of a cup of cold coffee as a celebratory toast. The pair then pass on information to the surface: ‘Oxygen 1 at 1500; 1 at 1900 CO2 1 at 24 hrs. 1 spare canister.’ The food supplies are now a quarter of a flask of coffee, milk and sugar, and one can of lemonade.

What they do not know is that the rescue plan’s outer edge of Saturday morning is based on both men reducing their oxygen consumption to 0.25 litres/min/man, which is below what they are currently consuming. As best as Chapman can calculate, he and Mallinson are around the level of 0.3 litres/min/man. In the knowledge that nothing is likely to happen before midnight, they again agree to attempt to spend the next twelve hours in silence – or as close as can be achieved. As Chapman later wrote:

Every unneeded word spoken would mean so many fewer seconds for the rescue, while every wasted movement might cut off minutes. Even thoughts and worries could steal survival time.

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