HOME

By Chris Allen

"FS1 calling Seaview. Come in Seaview. Mayday! Mayday!"

"This is Seaview. What's the problem FS1?"

"Engine trouble. We're losing control!"

Admiral Nelson grabbed the microphone from the radio operator's hand. "Chip. What's your position?"

Silence.

"I repeat. What is your position?"

Nelson could barely make out the words among the static. "We're ... at ...degrees ... south ... west ... island ... try to land..." Then there was silence. Nelson looked over at Sparks who shook his head indicating that they had lost contact.

Nelson walked quickly over to Kowalski who was manning radar. "Kowalski, what was the last reported position of the flying sub?"

"Mr. Morton reported in about a half an hour before the Mayday came through, sir. If they kept to the flight plan, we should be able to calculate her approximate position." Kowalski handed Nelson the flight plan that Commander Morton had filed before leaving on the mission.

Nelson went over to the plot table and consulted the charts. He made some quick calculations and then picked up the microphone. "Captain Crane. Report to the control room immediately."

Lee Crane, the captain of the submarine Seaview, left his cabin quickly and reached the control room in less than a minute. He could see by the concerned look on Admiral Nelson's face that something was wrong. Nelson glanced up from the chart he had been consulting. "Ah ... Lee. We have a problem. Sparks received a Mayday from the flying sub a few minutes ago and now we have lost contact."

"What is their last reported position?" asked Crane, concerned for the safety of those aboard the flying sub.

Nelson indicated a spot on the chart. "They reported in, half an hour ago, at this position. They should be approximately here, by now." Nelson marked an X on the chart and then continued. "It was difficult to make out exactly what Chip was saying because of all the static but he said something about an island and according to the charts, this is the only island in the area." Nelson pointed to a small, uninhabited island on the chart. He looked up at Lee, who was studying the chart intently.

Crane grabbed the microphone and immediately issued the order to head for the island at flank speed. He reckoned it would take the Seaview approximately six hours to reach the flying sub. He hoped it would not be too late.

The first sensation that Chip Morton felt was the cold, the intense cold that enveloped his body. As he slowly became aware of his surroundings he found himself lying on the deck of the FS1, almost completely covered in water. His head throbbed and it took him a while to focus his thoughts. There was light coming through the window of the flying sub. We must be on the surface Chip thought. His body ached with the coldness of the water. He slowly sat up, painfully aware of a number of bruises. He tried to recall what had happened. He remembered losing power and the engines would not respond to the controls. He had called in a Mayday and then they had hit the water, hard, and then there had been nothing. As he looked out the window, he could see rocks, and a few hundred yards past the rocks, he could see the beach of the island they had been trying to land on. It looked like they were caught up on the reef, jammed tight in the rocks. The waves were crashing against the hull of the flying sub but it barely moved. Chip hoped that it would stay wedged between the rocks until they could get out. If they could get out.

Chip turned his head and slowly looked around the interior of the FS1. He could see two forms lying nearby. They weren't moving. "Doc! Chief!" yelled Chip, frantically trying to get to his feet, only to fall back onto the deck as the pain shot through his right ankle, causing him to cry out. He fell back into the water that was getting increasingly deeper. Gritting his teeth, he began to crawl over to where Doc was lying. The flying sub was resting at a steep angle and he had to crawl up an incline to where the others were, but at least it was dry, for now. Chip managed to make his way to Doc, who was still unconscious. Doc was bleeding from a head wound but Chip was not able to tell if Doc had any other injuries. He shook him gently by the shoulder. "Doc, Doc. Wake up!" Chip was relieved to hear Doc groaning and starting to move a bit. "Doc. Are you all right?" asked Chip, hoping that Doc wasn't suffering from anything more serious than a bad bump on the head.

Doc opened his eyes and looked up at the concerned face of the Executive Officer. "Chip. What happened?"

"We crash-landed, Doc." Chip looked over at the motionless form of the Chief. "I have to see how the Chief is. You stay here and take it easy." Chip began to crawl over to where the Chief was lying, about five feet from where they were. When he reached the Chief, Chip could see that he was badly hurt. Sharkey had been on his feet trying to fix the controls when they had gone down. He must have been thrown against one of the panels. He was bleeding from a number of wounds on his chest and shoulders. Chip looked back to see Doc who was trying to get to his feet. The angle of the flying sub made it difficult to stand so he, too, began to crawl over to where Sharkey was lying. Doc immediately began to examine the Chief, checking him for anything that might be broken or any internal bleeding.

"Can you find the medical kit, Chip?" asked Doc, obviously very concerned about Chief Sharkey. Chip crawled over to the storage locker where the medical kit was stored. The door to the locker was crushed and had buckled but Chip managed to wrench it open. Many of the supplies had been thrown about and were damaged but the medical kit was still intact. Chip grabbed it and crawled back over to where Doc was examining Sharkey.

"Doc," said Chip. "We don't have a lot of time. The water level is rising quickly. There must be a large hole in the hull. We have to get out of here now!" Chip looked around the interior of the flying sub, apprising the situation. "Look, Doc. We need to gather as many supplies as we can and get the Chief out of here. If we can get the rear hatch open, we can swim to the island. It's only a couple of hundred yards. I'll see if I can find the life jackets." The cold water had numbed Chip's ankle and he forgot about it as he tried to stand once more. As soon as he tried putting weight on it, the pain returned and he collapsed onto the deck again. Doc immediately came over to Chip and looked at this ankle.

"It doesn't look broken, Chip, but it's hard to tell without a proper examination." Doc looked at Chip with a concerned look on his face. "We have quite a job ahead of us, Chip. It's going to be almost impossible for the two of us to swim with Sharkey to the island. He's going to be a dead weight and you have only one good leg. And I ... I'm not really much of a swimmer, in fact ... I can't swim at all..." Doc almost laughed at the incredulous look on Chip's face. "I know what you're thinking, Chip. How did I manage to serve aboard a submarine for three years without knowing how to swim? Right?"

Chip regained his composure and began to plan their escape. "We can't worry about that now, Doc. We need to find the life jackets, waterproof bags, rations, blankets and anything else that we think we might need to survive on that island for as long as it takes the Seaview to find us." Chip started to crawl towards the storage lockers. "You see what you can do for Sharkey and I'll start packing. Okay, Doc?"

Doc grinned up at Chip. "Aye, aye, sir." He then turned back to assess Sharkey's condition. It was going to be a long, cold swim for them all.

The Seaview had barely been underway for an hour and Lee Crane was still at the plot table checking the charts, trying to find the fastest route, hoping to shave off even a few minutes from their estimated time of reaching the island. He cursed himself inwardly. He should have been the one piloting the flying sub, but Chip had requested the opportunity to have a bit of a change in routine and Lee had agreed to let him go. Seaview's mission had been to deliver supplies to one of the Institute's research teams at the undersea lab. Doc had been assigned to do the annual physical exams for the personnel at the undersea lab. He, too, had been looking forward to this trip. Sharkey had gone along as copilot. They had just completed their mission and had been returning to the Seaview when the Mayday call had come in. And now Crane didn't know if they were alive or dead. They could be at the bottom of the sea. He hoped that they had made it to the island. He managed a smile. It would be just like Morton and the others to be relaxing on some beautiful tropical beach, calmly waiting for the Seaview to come and rescue them.

Chip was able to locate two large waterproof bags and started to fill them with the necessary supplies. He glanced back over to where Sharkey was lying. He hadn't regained consciousness and Doc was busy applying a splint to the Chief's leg, which seemed to be broken. Chip knew it was going to be very difficult for them to get Sharkey to that island unless...Chip let out a holler that made Doc jump.

"What's wrong, Chip?" asked Doc, his heart pounding.

"Nothing's wrong, Doc. I found the life raft and it looks like it's still in good shape!" He dragged the bulky package out of the crushed storage locker. "If we can get it out the rear hatch and into the water, then I don't have to worry about giving you swimming lessons after all." Chip gave Doc a reassuring smile. Things were starting to look up thought Chip.

Doc came over to the storage locker and helped Chip drag the life raft over to the rear hatch. Chip turned the handle of the hatch and tried to push it open but it wouldn't budge. "Give me a hand here, Doc," asked Chip. The two of them pushed as hard as they could, trying to get the door open. It was no good. "It must have jammed shut in the crash," said Chip. His voice showed the concern he felt. The water had risen almost to where Sharkey was lying. Chip estimated that the flying sub would be filled with water in about fifteen minutes. The only other way out was the escape hatch, which was on the deck of the sub. They used this hatch to enter and leave when they were wearing scuba equipment when the flying sub was submerged. With the flying sub perched on the rocks, half in and half out of the water, Chip wasn't sure if they would be able to use the escape hatch. It may be blocked by rocks. Even now, the hatch opening was under a foot of water. It would take some doing to get the hatch open and how were they going to get Sharkey out through the hatch and take him underwater? These thoughts raced through Chip's mind as he tried to figure out some way out of this predicament. He looked over at Doc who was looking at him.

"I don't suppose this is a good time to tell you that I never had scuba lessons, either," said Doc, realizing that they might have to swim out underwater. Chip could only shake his head in disbelief. He couldn't worry about Doc right now. It was Sharkey that concerned him.

"Listen, Doc. It looks like the only way out is through the escape hatch. If we take Sharkey out that way we only have to be underwater for less than a minute. We just head for the surface as quickly as possible. We won't bother with scuba tanks; we just hold our breath and go up. We'll bring the raft with us. When we get on the surface we inflate it and get Sharkey aboard and then we're home free. I can go back and get the rest of the supplies later once you and Sharkey are safe on the island. But we have to hurry!"

Doc considered Chip's plan. He made it sound easy but they both knew that moving Sharkey in his condition might kill him. There was no choice, though; they had to get out before the flying sub was totally filled with water. "Ready whenever you are, Chip."

Chip crawled over to the escape hatch on the deck. It was submerged under nearly two feet of water by now. Chip got hold of the large panel and tried to pull it open. It wouldn't budge. Doc came over to where Chip was and after a few minutes of struggling together they realized it was hopeless. The weight of the water was too much. They were trapped. They dragged themselves out of the water and crawled back up the slope to where Sharkey was lying. Chip sat for a few minutes staring at the water level as it continued to rise even more rapidly now. If they broke out the scuba tanks, they would have another hour of air but that was only delaying the inevitable. They could sit there with that extra hour's worth of air while the cold water enveloped them. It would be a tossup as to whether they would die when the air in the scuba tanks was gone or from exposure to the cold water. Chip knew there was no way that the Seaview would make it in time before their air ran out. They had to find some way of getting out of the FS1 and making it to the island. It was their only hope.

As he sat there pondering the seemingly impossible situation, a smile spread slowly over the Exec's face and he jumped back into the water and splashed his way to a small compartment on the wall near the circuitry panel. The water had almost reached this level but Chip pulled open the door of the compartment and brought out a box with DANGER EXPLOSIVES plainly written on the side of it. He looked over at Doc who was watching him in puzzlement. "Okay, Doc," said Chip, scrambling out of the water once more. "Give me a hand with Sharkey. We have to move him over to the far corner. We're running out of time and this better work."

Doc and Chip carefully moved the unconscious man into the corner of the sub that was farthest from the rear hatch. Chip grabbed the mattress off the bunk and motioned for Doc to get behind the mattress with Sharkey and hold the mattress up for protection. It wasn't difficult for Doc to figure out what Chip had in mind. While Doc stayed behind the mattress with Sharkey, Chip was busy setting a charge of plastic explosives on the handle of the hatch. When he was finished, Chip limped over to Doc and explained what was going to happen. The plan, hopefully, was that the explosion would free the jammed hatch. Unfortunately, the plan could also backfire and they could end up blowing themselves up along with the whole flying sub. The air was already stale and smelled of burnt wiring. The explosion from the plastic explosives could set off a chain reaction. There was no other choice. Chip got ready to light the fuse.

Admiral Nelson stood in the observation nose, gazing out into the depths of the ocean, his thoughts on the men that had gone down with the flying sub. Chip had requested this mission for a change of pace. Nelson smiled to himself. I bet when this is all over, it will be a while before Chip volunteers for any more missions. He'll be quite happy to stay in the relative safety of the control room. Nelson glanced up as Captain Crane descended the spiral staircase and entered the observation nose.

"I don't suppose there's been any word from the flying sub?" asked Nelson hopefully.

Lee shook his head. "Sorry, Admiral. Sparks has had no contact at all."

The two men stood together, staring out into the vast ocean, each deep in his own thoughts. It wasn't just three shipmates that had gone down with the flying sub... it was three good friends. Chip and Lee had known each other from the Academy days. Doc and Nelson were old friends from way back. Chief Sharkey had only been aboard the Seaview for three years but both Nelson and Crane had gotten to know him very well. He was an excellent Chief. He was hard on the men when he needed to be but he was like a big brother to them at the same time. The men would do anything for the Chief.

Both Nelson and Crane found it hard to wait and do nothing.

"I wonder what went wrong?" queried Nelson.

"Chip said something about engine trouble, didn't he?" asked Crane.

"I guess we won't know until we find them," said Nelson. "How much longer?"

Crane glanced at his watch. "At our present speed, it will still take us another four hours before we reach them."

Nelson looked up at his Captain. "It's going to be a long four hours."

Crane nodded in agreement, "Aye, sir, it is."

As soon as the fuse started to burn, Chip, ignoring the pain in his ankle, leapt across the deck and dove for cover behind the small mattress. The sound of the explosion was deafening and echoed around the interior of the small flying sub. After the noise subsided, it was deathly quiet except for the sound of the waves outside as they smashed against the reef, rocking the sub ever so slightly. As the smoke started to clear, Chip peered out from behind the mattress. Smoke and flames were coming from some of the circuitry panels on the far wall. Chip limped over to the hatch and tried the door. To his relief, it swung open as he touched it and daylight streamed through the open hatchway. He looked out and, because of the angle of the sub, saw that they had about a four-foot drop to the water below. He quickly grabbed the life raft, secured the rope to the outside of the flying sub and managed to heave the raft into the water, activating the inflation mechanism at the same time. The hiss of air as the raft began to inflate was a welcoming sound to Chip's ears.

Doc emerged from behind the mattress with a huge look of relief on his face. He and Chip carefully half-carried and half-dragged the Chief over to the open hatch and then grabbed the waterproof bags and life jackets. Doc stowed the medical kit into one of the waterproof bags. They managed with great difficulty to get a life jacket on Sharkey and then they each put their own life jackets on. Now came the problem of getting the Chief into the life raft. The waves were tossing the raft about and it was going to be difficult keeping it steady while they lowered the Chief down into it. Doc was worried that all this jostling about could do even more damage to Sharkey. It could even kill him.

Chip rummaged through one of the waterproof bags and brought out some rope that he had packed. He managed to fashion a kind of harness around the Chief so that they could lower him into the raft much more easily.

"Doc, you jump into the raft and I'll lower the Chief down to you."

Chip was worried about the Chief but knew they had to get out of the FS1 as quickly as possible. Almost the entire deck was covered in water now. The only dry area was right by the open hatch and that would soon be underwater too.

Doc jumped into the raft and Chip handed the waterproof bags down to him. Now came the tricky part. Chip tied one end of the rope around his own waist and slowly began to lower Sharkey into the raft. Doc supported some of the Chief's weight while trying to maintain his balance as the raft was buffeted by the waves. Suddenly a huge wave struck the FS1, dislodging it from its perch on the rocks. At the same time, Doc was flung out of the life raft by the same wave and tossed into the sea, going under for a few seconds before he was brought spluttering and coughing to the surface by his life jacket. Chip had no choice but to drop the Chief the last few feet into the raft as the flying sub started to float away from the rocks, leveling off as it moved, allowing water to come crashing through the open hatch. Chip was thrown back by the waves and tossed across the length of the sub, smashing against the pilot's chair. He floundered in the ever-deepening water and, fighting against the incoming waves, he managed to swim towards the hatchway. Chip clung to the door and lunged out just as the flying sub began to sink below the surface. He saw the raft floating just above him and, with all his strength, swam for the raft, reaching it just as the FS1 sank completely out of sight, creating a tremendous drag that nearly pulled him under again.

As Chip clung to the side of the raft, still attached to the Chief by the rope, he looked around for Doc. He breathed an immense sigh of relief when he spotted him hanging on to the other side of the raft. Chip maneuvered himself around the raft to join Doc on the other side and with great difficulty, because of the crashing waves, they both managed to climb into the raft where Sharkey lay, still unconscious and oblivious to all that had been happening.

Sparks continued to try to contact the FS 1 but to no avail. Crane had issued orders for a landing party to equip themselves for a rescue but they were still two hours from their destination. Nelson joined the captain in the control room and they discussed the procedure for the rescue operation. Their biggest problem was that they would be arriving after dusk. It was going to be almost impossible to search the water until daylight. They would have to hope that Chip, Doc and Sharkey had made it to the island. The search party would try there, first, hoping that they were safe on the island and not at the bottom of the sea, trapped inside the FS1. The Seaview was running at top speed, but it wasn't fast enough for the men on the submarine. All they could do was wait and hope for the best.

It was a very rough ride to the shore. The waves tossed the small raft against the rocks, dragged it back out to open water and then tossed it back again. Doc hung on to Sharkey to keep him from being thrown out while Chip tried to push the raft away from the rocks using one of the oars. He finally got the raft turned in the right direction and they made some headway, only to be trapped for a while on another part of the reef. The waves continued to crash over them again and again. Doc had to start bailing some of the water out or else they would sink.

It took nearly an hour to make it the few hundred yards to shore and when they were finally within twenty feet from the beach, the ocean took its final revenge and sent an enormous wave at them, flipping the raft and sending the three occupants into the sea. Chip grabbed for Sharkey, holding his face out of the water as the waves continued to pound them. Doc was gasping for air, his life jacket keeping him afloat, but he had swallowed a lot of water when he went under. Chip had no choice but to leave Doc and try to get Sharkey ashore first. Doc at least, had a chance; Sharkey would have no chance at all if Chip didn't get him to shore right away. Then he remembered the rope around his waist that tied him to Sharkey. He unfastened the rope while trying to hang onto the Chief at the same time and threw it over to Doc who gratefully grabbed hold of it.

It took all of Chip's remaining strength to drag Sharkey towards the shore while pulling Doc in with the rope at the same time. As his feet finally touched bottom, he said a quick prayer of thanks and then concentrated on getting both men out of the cold water and onto the dry sand.

It was more than ten minutes before Chip had the strength to move. Doc had collapsed on the sand and wasn't moving but Chip could see that he was breathing. He didn't know about Sharkey. It had been a rough journey for the Chief, for all of them.

It was nearing dusk but the sun still had some warmth left and Doc and Chip lay on the sand, exhausted, trying to recover their strength. Doc crawled over to where Sharkey lay and was relieved to see that he was still alive.

Chip realized that they were still in serious trouble. As the sun began to disappear over the horizon, the temperature dropped quickly. All their equipment lay at the bottom of the ocean where the raft had tipped over. No blankets, no food and no first aid kit. They needed to find shelter for the night. It was imperative that they keep warm. Their clothes were still damp. What they needed most of all was a nice, warm fire. Chip looked around the beach and spotted enough dry driftwood to make a good fire, if they had some matches. He searched his pockets and then called over to Doc.

"You wouldn't happen to have a match on you, would you Doc?"

Doc seemed surprised by the question. He was about to ask Chip when had he taken up smoking when he realized what Chip needed the matches for. For the first time since the crash, Doc felt as if luck was on their side. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a box of waterproof matches and held them up for Chip to see. Chip let out a whoop of delight and began limping around the beach, picking up dry pieces of wood.

Chip and Doc managed to carefully drag Sharkey over to some rocks, which offered some protection from the wind, and they set out to make the biggest fire that they could. Within a few minutes they were enjoying the heat from the fire, feeling the warmth seeping back into their bodies. Doc did what he could to make Sharkey comfortable and he and Chip spent some time gathering enough wood for the night. They hoped the fire was big enough to be seen from beyond the reefs. The Seaview would not be able to come very close to the island.

Two hours had passed since they had made it to the beach. It was dark now and Chip and Doc sat huddled by the fire. Chip thought back over the events of the day. He couldn't believe that they were still alive. He suddenly remembered what Doc had told him that day.

"Doc, would you mind explaining to me how you never learned to swim? You've been assigned to the Seaview for the last three years, and nobody found out that you couldn't swim?"

Doc grinned at Chip. "Well, luckily, until now it wasn't necessary for me to reveal my little secret. When Admiral Nelson first chose me to be the ship's doctor he mentioned something about scuba lessons but somehow the subject never came up again and I didn't dare tell him that I couldn't swim a stroke. Actually, I did take the required lessons when I first joined the Navy but I broke my leg part way through the lessons and didn't finish and I guess they forgot about me." Doc leaned closer to Chip and looked around as if someone was listening in on their conversation. "Don't worry, Chip. After this adventure is over I plan to take those lessons again. I admit that I was scared to death when we were being tossed around in those waves."

Chip laughed. "You weren't the only one who was scared to death!" Chip lay with his back against a rock and looked out towards the sea. Somewhere out there, not too far away, the flying sub lay on the bottom. He wondered if it could be recovered. "Hey, Doc," asked Chip. "What do you think the Admiral is going to say when he finds out what happened to the flying sub?"

Doc thought for a moment. "I'm hoping he'll be too relieved to find us alive to worry too much about the FS1."

Chip added, "You know it kind of reminds me of the time when I had just turned sixteen and had gotten my driver's license. That same day I asked my dad if I could borrow the car. It was the first time he let me borrow it and I had barely gone two blocks when some guy ran a stop sign and smashed into me. I wasn't hurt but the car was totaled. You should have seen the look on my dad's face when he saw his car." Chip laughed. "Even though he knew it wasn't my fault, he never let me borrow his new car until he had personally driven with me to see if I was driving careful enough."

Doc smiled at Chip. "You think the Admiral will let you take the flying sub out on your own again?"

"Right now, the only thing I want to do is get off this island, get back aboard Seaview and curl up in my nice warm bunk in my cabin. I may never leave the Seaview ever again."

Both men reacted instantly as they heard a low groan coming from where Sharkey lay. They rushed to his side and Doc checked his vital signs. "He's coming around, Chip," said Doc, with a sigh of relief.

Sharkey's eyes fluttered open and he stared at the two anxious faces and then looked around at the surroundings. He managed a weak grin. "See, Mr. Morton, what did I tell you. We landed right on the island. No problem."

Chip and Doc looked at each other. When Sharkey was feeling better they would explain to him that actually, there were a "few" problems making it to the island and that he had missed out on a lot of excitement. Sharkey closed his eyes again and was soon asleep. His breathing seemed easier now and Doc felt a weight lift from his shoulders. It looked like his patient was going to make it despite the rough treatment he had received.

The snuffling sound just beyond the light of the fire soon put a stop to their conversation. Doc and Chip looked at each other.

"You heard it too?" whispered Chip.

Doc nodded.

They both continued to stare into the darkness trying to make out what it might be. The sound continued, only it seemed like it was even closer now. Chip picked up a large burning stick from the fire and held it up, peering into the darkness to see if he could make out what was out there. He wished he had some kind of weapon but all their survival gear was at the bottom of the sea. Doc, too, grabbed a flaming stick and they both stood up, ready to defend themselves. A low, eerie growl penetrated the darkness and Doc and Chip took a step backward. Staying close to the fire seemed like their only hope. Most wild animals won't come too close to a fire unless provoked.

Chip looked around desperately for a weapon, something he could use against this intruder. He spotted a few large stones and picked them up. He handed one to Doc.

"What do you think it might be?" asked Doc.

"I'm not sure, Doc," replied Chip. "It couldn't be a wolf or a bear, we're too far south, but it might be some kind of jungle cat."

"We don't have any food, so maybe it will go away?" asked Doc hopefully.

"Unfortunately, it may have an appetite for humans, since nothing else is available," said

Chip, half-jokingly.

Doc looked over at Chip and smiled weakly. "I don't hear it anymore. Do you think it has gone away?"

"Don't get your hopes up, Doc. We're probably the only good-tasting meal around. If it's hungry, it may just hang around the whole night, waiting for its chance. I suggest we take turns standing watch. I'll take the first shift. You try to get some sleep."

"You don't seriously think I could get to sleep knowing that there's something out there who wants to make a meal out of me?"

Chip's answer was interrupted by another low growl, but this time it was louder and closer. Whatever was out there was just on the other side of the fire!

Chip started waving his flaming torch around and yelling loudly. Doc followed suit. They heard a scuffling sound as whatever it was ran off and into the bush.

They both listened intently for a few minutes but didn't hear any more animal sounds.

The yelling had awoken Sharkey and Doc went to check on him. Chip knew that it was very possible that the animal would return. They had to be ready.

It was dark when the Seaview came in range of the island. It was a fairly large island. From a distance it looked quite mountainous and covered with dense jungle growth. The night was cool and there was no moon to help the rescue party find their way. On the bridge, Lee Crane trained his infra red binoculars on the shoreline, looking for any sign of life. It was impossible to know which part of the island they might have landed on. If they were on the island at all. Crane gave the order for the Seaview to sail around the island, keeping clear of the many reefs that jutted out of the water. They couldn't get too close because of the rocks that were above and below the waterline.

Nelson joined Crane on the bridge. "Anything, Lee?"

Crane shook his head, "No, sir, but it's a big island. It will take us quite a while to check out the whole shoreline. A signal fire on the beach should be easy to spot at night."

Nelson nodded his head in agreement, "Assuming they are on the island and able to build a fire. I'll send the lookouts up to relieve you."

Crane could see the deep lines of worry on the Admiral's face. "I'd like to stay up here a bit longer, sir. Just in case."

Nelson knew that his Captain was worried about Chip and the others and that he felt guilty because he would have been piloting the FS1 if Chip hadn't volunteered.

"All right, Lee, but I'll have Kowalski join you up here."

"Aye, sir." Crane continued to look through the binoculars, hoping to find some sign of life on the island.

It was a long night for Chip and Doc. They took turns spelling each other off but neither one was able to get much rest. They felt slightly more comfortable after they had built a series of smaller fires around the perimeter of their campsite. Despite the bit of heat from the fires they were still cold and very hungry. They had no fresh water to drink and nothing at all to eat. It was too dark to go and look for a spring of fresh water or anything edible and they especially didn't want to run into the cat or whatever it was out there.

They had heard the animal again, but it was further away and as far as they knew it hadn't come any closer since they had scared it away with their yelling.

They had both given up the idea of trying to get any rest, so they sat together by the larger fire, chatting about whatever came to mind... the Seaview, their families at home, their adventures together... anything at all to try to take their minds off the cold, the hunger and the animal out there.

Chip threw some more wood on the fires. They had to be continually tended in case they went out.

"Doc, we're almost out of wood. I know there was quite a bit of driftwood around but we've used up what we have nearby. I'm going to have to go down the beach a little way to get some more."

"Can't we hold out until daylight?" asked Doc, worried that Chip would have to leave the protection of the fire.

"Not a chance. We need to keep the fires going or that cat may decide to pay us another visit. You stay here and look after Sharkey. I won't be long."

"Take a burning stick with you, Chip, and don't go too far," cautioned Doc.

"Don't worry, Doc. I'm not planning on any long trips. I just need to grab some wood and get back here, fast. Sing out if you see our visitor at all."

Chip grabbed a large stick from the fire and waved it around a bit and then headed toward the water, favoring his sore ankle. He figured the cat would probably be further back, closer to the jungle, away from the water. It was difficult gathering wood with one hand and holding the torch with the other. It was very dark and cold away from the fire. He looked down on the sand and gasped as he saw the size of the pawprints that the jungle cat had left. They were the biggest pawprints he had ever seen. He looked around nervously and felt the hair on the back of his neck stir. He felt as if he were being watched. He looked back toward the fire just in time to see a large shadow pass in front of it. The cat was between him and the fire!

Doc had seen it too. He grabbed a large stick from the fire and began yelling again. He could see the cat watching Chip, its large body tensed and ready to pounce. Chip was only about twenty feet from the cat and his way back to the fire was blocked by the large beast. Chip began to yell, too, and wave his flaming torch. He picked up a piece of driftwood and threw it at the animal. This only angered the cat who let out an ear piercing shriek, dashed across the sand and then took a mighty leap into the air, hurling its huge body straight toward Chip.

There was a loud crack, a scream of pain and the cat fell to the ground, dead. The sudden silence that followed was broken by the sound of a voice calling out, "Mr. Morton, are you all right?" It was Kowalski.

Chip didn't realize he was still holding his breath. The cat had been so close to him that he could smell its breath as it had lunged. He looked over to where he had heard Kowalski's voice and saw the sailor approaching the fire, lowering his rifle. He was followed by the rest of the search party, including Captain Crane who hurried up to his Exec, slapping him on the back in greeting. "Trust you to get yourself in all sorts of trouble, Chip. Can't leave you on your own for a minute, can I?"

Still recovering from the shock of nearly being the main course for the jungle cat, Chip managed a weak smile. "What took you so long?"

Lee laughed and felt a great sense of relief that his friend was alive.

Within minutes Doc and Chip were wrapped in warm blankets and drinking hot coffee while Sharkey was being lifted onto a stretcher. Lee Crane was soon radioing the Admiral to let him know that all three men had been found alive.

It was a jubilant rescue party that returned to the Seaview that night. All three survivors were immediately taken to Sickbay. Doc was fine except for a cut on his head as well as numerous bruises from their wild raft ride. He immediately set about examining Sharkey who had a broken leg and a number of cuts on his chest that needed stitching. His head wound wasn't too serious but he would have to take it easy for a while. Doc then bandaged Chip's sprained ankle and was checking him over for any other injuries when Admiral Nelson entered the Sickbay with a stern look on his face. Captain Crane followed right behind Nelson, looking just as serious as the Admiral. Chip looked up at the two senior officers and wondered what the problem was.

"Mr. Morton!" thundered the Admiral.

"Aye, sir?"

"Just what do you have to say for yourself?"

"Sir?" Chip had no idea why the Admiral was so upset.

"Mr. Morton. You volunteered for this mission?"

"Yes, sir."

"So let me get this straight. According to Captain Crane, you practically begged him to go on this mission." Nelson looked over at Crane who nodded his head in agreement.

"And then the very first time you take the flying sub out on your own, it ends up on the bottom of the ocean! Do you realize what a valuable piece of equipment the FS1 is? Do you have any idea how much it will cost to replace it?" The Admiral looked like he was ready to explode.

Chip had not seen the Admiral this angry in a long time. He looked over at Doc who was examining Sharkey. Doc had his back turned to him but then he turned around with a huge smile on his face. Chip then turned back to the Admiral and Crane and saw that they were both grinning. Then the three of them burst into laughter at the look on Chip's face. Nelson, still laughing, walked over to Chip and slapped him on the back.

"Welcome back, son. You had us worried. We're just glad that you and Doc and Sharkey are all right." Then Nelson stopped laughing and looked Chip straight in the eye and again assumed a serious tone, "But it may be a long time before I let you take the flying sub out by yourself again."

Chip looked over at Doc who gave him a wink. This time Chip joined in the laughter.

"Oh, and by the way, Doc," Nelson added, "I'll expect you at 0800 sharp tomorrow for your first swimming lesson!"