The Last Saturday of October: The Declassified Secrets of Black Saturday by Gilbert Douglas

Author:Gilbert, Douglas [Gilbert, Douglas]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bibliopole
Published: 2018-05-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight – Bermuda Triangle

Jack Kennedy had a keen appreciation for the vagaries of history. His experiences commanding a patrol boat in the Pacific during World War II, reinforced by the lessons from the Bay of Pigs, had taught him to mistrust the assurances of military leaders. He knew that there can be a huge gulf between the orders…of the man in the Oval Office and how that policy is actually implemented on the ground. One of his lasting impressions from the war was that “the military…screws up everything” The events of the (Cuban Missile Crisis) would confirm JFK’s view of history as a chaotic process, replete with accidental figures whose role in history is often overlooked… Michael Dobbs.

Creaking and groaning, the ship pitched and rolled as she descended, but the explosive pounding and snap rolls ceased as soon as she was fully submerged. As the slow-motion cycles soothed their fears, the crew gradually relaxed their white-knuckled grips. Exhibiting hurricane chaos, wind-driven wave motion generated from the fetch, the distance, the time, and the velocity of the wind over the deep ocean. Energy rolled and amplified in the direction of the wind, transmitting itself, molecule to molecule, to move water up and down. The submerged submarine pitched, escalated up and down, and rolled port and starboard, making it difficult for the helmsman and the planesmen to control the ship’s course, depth, and attitude. Captain Savitsky instructed the OOD to allow course and pitch variations of plus or minus ten degrees and depth variations of up to five meters. He explained that a ship riding and flailing in the underwater wave structure, trying to fight the weather could defeat itself. The control surfaces should be used to keep the boat upright and generally pointed in the right direction for the duration of the storm. He had the OODs provide damage reports after every four-hour watch.

The old man ordered the cooks to throw a party with beer and wine in addition to every type of meat in the cold room. He informed the crew that Cuba was their destination and that they were beneath a hurricane, which wasn’t particularly horrifying because most Arctic sailors had never heard of a hurricane and none had ever experienced one. Poli gave a half-hearted speech about beaches and palm trees, warm sun, Cuban women, and cigars. The crew had lost weight during the North Atlantic excursion, and they gobbled their unlimited multi-meat dinner. They entered the hurricane with high spirits, cleaned and refreshed by the rain, but the onset of the violent weather had unnerved them. They heard the cannon-like reports of crashing waves above them, and they secretly bargained away the bad things they enjoyed in life if only the B-59 could hold together and transport them to the safe side of the weather front. They mistook their profuse perspiration for stress-induced sweat and thought it would pass when the hurricane passed.

The sonar system’s sensitive sensors clipped hard into voltage overload, overwhelmed by the noisy

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