100 Fathoms Under

  100 Fathoms Under

  A Rick Brant Science-Adventure Story, No. 4

  By John Blaine

  Grosset & Dunlap

  ASIN: B0007EDRTU

  CHAPTER I

  Honolulu!

  Rick Brant looked up from the book he was reading and grinned at the young man

  across the table. “You look worried, Scotty.”

  Don Scott was staring through the window at the silvery-blue ocean 10,000 feet below.

  “Not worried,” he said, “just thoughtful. Here we are riding in style a couple of miles above the Pacific. In three weeks we’ll be playing tag with the fish a hundred fathoms under it. The trouble with us is,we can’t decide whether we want to be birds or porpoises.”

  Rick put down his book and stretched luxuriously. He was a tall, husky boy of high school age, with brown hair and eyes. “No bird ever rode in such comfort,” he said, glancing around at the lounge of the Pan-American Clipper. “Not much like the Cub, is it?”

  He had been gone from home only four days, but already he missed the yellow Piper Cub that was his special pride and joy. He missedSpindriftIsland , too.

  To the rest of the world, the famous island off theNew Jersey coast was the headquarters of the Spindrift scientists, led by Hartson W. Brant, Rick’s father. The island was known as the place where new radar discoveries had been developed, and as the launching site for the first moon rocket. The very name of Spindrift was synonymous with

  revolutionary discoveries in the field of electronics. But to Rick, it was simply home. He always hated to leave, even to take part in an exciting scientific expedition like the present one. And he was always glad to return.

  “I’m a little homesick,” he confessed.

  Scotty grinned. “Think you’re the only one?” He motioned to two travelers on the opposite side of the lounge. “Take a look at a couple of others.”

  Rick looked over to where his father and Chahda were seated on a comfortable sofa.

  Hartson Brant was holding a book, but he wasn’t reading. He was staring through the window, lost in thought.

  “I’ll bet no one aboard realizes who he is,” Scotty said.

  Rick nodded. His father was known internationally as an outstanding electronic scientist, but it would be hard for a stranger to connect the name of Hartson Brant with the youthful-looking man in the casual slacks and sport jacket. Mr. Brant had his son’s lean hardness and unassuming friendliness. More than once he had been mistaken for Rick’s older brother. He was an able athlete and an ardent fisherman and swimmer.

  There was nothing about him to indicate the scientist

  “He’s probably thinking about Mom’s cooking,” Rick said.

  “Stop it,” Scotty complained. “You’re making me hungry. What’s Chahda thinking about?”

  Seated next to Hartson Brant was a slim brown boy who had a mischievous look about him, even when completely relaxed. Chahda, whom Scotty called “a souvenir of the Tibet trip,” was a former Bombay beggar boy who had become a member of the

  Spindrift family by virtue of his courage and loyalty when the scientists sent an expedition to Tibet to set up a radar moon relay station. The quick-witted Hindu boy had done much to extricate the expedition from serious danger, as related in TheLostCity.

  “He’s dreaming about statistics from The World Almanac,” Back guessed. He knew that was a safe assumption, because Chahda had been studying a new edition of the Almanac that Rick had given him. InBombay the Hindu boy had tried to educate himself by memorizing most of an old copy of the “WorroldAlm-in-ack,” as he called it. It was the only textbook he had had.

  Chahda turned suddenly and saw Rick and Scotty watching him. He rose and came across the lounge. “You know what? I am doing some arithmetic.”

  “With some dope from the Almanac?” Rick asked.

  Chahda looked surprised. “How you know?”

  Rick and Scotty laughed. “Rick’s a mind reader,” Scotty said. “What are you figuring this time?”

  Chahda sat down at the table with them. “We get toHonolulu in one hour, yes?

  Well,Honolulu is 4,500 miles from Spindrift.”

  “Which means we’ve traveled over halfway,” Rick added, “because Kwangara is 3,000

  miles fromHonolulu.”

  Chahda shook his head. “Is Rick a scientist? No! He is being most careless with numbers. Kwangara is 3,000 miles, yes. But is being ocean miles I that is what I am figuring.”

  Rick thought for a moment,then he grinned. “You’re right,” he agreed. “I forgot about the difference between nautical miles and statute miles.” He had measured the distance from Spindrift toKwangaraIsland , a tiny dot in the Pacific between thePalauIslands and

  theSouthern Philippines , and had gotten 7,500 miles.

  “It says inAlm-in-ack ,” Chahda stated, “to change to land miles from ocean miles, must multiply by 1.15157.”

  Scotty shook his head. “This heathen character always amazes me. How can you remember those figures, Chahda?”

  Chahda’s quick grin flashed. “Is having strong mind. Scotty is opposite. Scotty has strong back, weak mind.”

  “Think so?” Scotty winked at Rick. “Okay, let’s see you solve this problem: A ship leavesNew York with twenty men aboard. It goes toLondon . Two mendesert, and the captain hires three more. At Marseille, four men jump overboard and the captain hires two more. The ship goes toAlexandria and the captain hires five men, but two get sick.

  Got that?”

  Chahda had been concentrating. “I got.Now what?”

  “AtSingapore , they meet pirates and three men are wounded. The captain hires five of the pirates.”

  “Now you want to know how many menis aboard?” Chahda asked.

  “Nope.”Scotty grinned. “What’s the name of the captain?”

  Chahda puzzled for a while,then shrugged. “Give up.

  “His name is Jones,” Scotty said.

  “How you know that?”

  Scotty winked at Rick again. “I asked him.”

  Chahda couldn’t decide whether to laugh or not. He compromised by ignoring Scotty.

  “Anyway, I figure out Kwangara is about 3,800 land miles fromHonolulu .”

  “What does that prove?” Scotty asked.

  “I ignoring you,” Chahda said with dignity.

  Rick smiled. The war between Scotty and Chahda was something that was never ended.

  They were the best of friends, always willing to fight each other’s battles, but equally willing to fight each other between .times.

  “A few hundred miles on top of the ocean doesn’t mean much,” Rick said. “The distance that counts is straight down. The longest part of the trip is going to be that first long dive in the Submobile.”

  “Be pretty big adventure,” Chahda agreed. “How we know how far down we have to go?”

  “We don’t,” Rick said. “All we have is the estimate of the Pacific Ethnographic Society.

  They think the stern of Alta-Yuan is in between 500 and 600 feet of water.”

  “I guess we can take their word for it,” Scotty remarked. “I wonder where Professor Zircon and the Submobile arenow? We must have passed them.”

  Rick nodded.“During the night, probably. The Aloha is due inHonolulu tomorrow morning.” Professor Hobart Zircon was aboard the SS Aloha with all the expedition equipment, including the undersea craft they had named the Submobile, and the newly developed Sonoscope underwater search device with which they hoped to salvage part of the sunken temple.

  The sixth member of the Spindrift expedition, Professor Gordon, was already

  inHonolulu . He had arranged for a suitable ship and had done research on the project with the scientists of the Pacific Ethnograp
hic Society, joint sponsors of the expedition.

  “This isn’t much like our other experiments,” Scotty said. “Everything’s smooth as velvet.”

  “Praisebe ,” Rick returned. “Let’s have no trouble on this trip.”

  Bad luck and interference by men who had reasons for wanting the experiments to fail had threatened the success of many of the other Spindrift projects. Rick and Scotty had met during one such period of trouble. Scotty, newly discharged from the Marine Corps, had rescued Rick from a beating at the hands of a gang that was trying to sabotage the Spindrift moon rocket, as related in The Rocket’s Shadow. Since that time Scotty, an orphan, had made his home with theSpindriftIsland group.

  “You’re getting back into your old territory, Scotty,” Rick said. “Going to look up any of your friends?”

  Although only one year older than Rick, Scotty had served with the Marines in the

  Pacific and had been toHawaii.“My friends are all back in the States,” Scotty said.

  “Besides, we won’t have time. We’ll just load the equipment and shove off for Kwangara.”

  Hartson Brant came across the lounge to them. “We’re about to land, boys.Honolulu is directly ahead.”

  Rick looked through the window and saw that the Clipper was already losing altitude.

  He moved over and made room for his father; then they buckled safety belts and settled down for the landing.

  They sawKoko Head come into view, thenDiamond Head andWaikikiBeach . They

  swung low overHonolulu , a modern city of brown and white and green, and splashed to a smooth landing at the Pan-American base between the city andPearl Harbor . In a few moments they were docked and the steward was opening the doors.

  Hartson Brant led the way and Rick followed with a rising sense of excitement. The first long step of the journey was over!

  A short, stocky man with cropped, gray hair came to meet them, and greeted the boys as an old friend.He Was Professor John Gordon, a former Navy officer and an expert on aviation electronics and jet propulsion. It was his hobby of archeology, however, a field in which he was a recognizedauthority, that had earned him a place on the present trip.

  Professor Gordon introduced them to Dr. Paul Warren, a tall, smiling scientist with a neat, brown beard. He was head of the Pacific Ethnographic Society and an old friend ofHartson Brant Dr.Warren ushered the Spindrift party into his station wagon, and in a few moments they were rolling through the streets ofHonolulu .

  “Zircon arrives in the morning,” Professor Gordon told them. “I’ve made arrangements with the port authorities to unload at once. We can leave for Kwangara in from three to four days.”

  “What sort of vessel is the Tarpon?” Hartson Brant asked. “You said that she is a trawler in your letter, but you gave no details.”

  “She’ll do nicely,” Gordon replied. “She has a steam winch that can handle the Submobile, and a smaller electric winch for the salvage cable. She has a radio^ phone and radio direction finder. I’ve increased her power plant by adding a Diesel generator I got from Navy surplus. We’ve leased her for three months, with permission to make necessary changes. I’ve had her holds converted to cabin space and she’s repainted from stem to stern.”

  Dr. Warren chuckled. “You should know in advance, however, that there’s something very fishy about her.”

  Back stiffened. “Howd’you mean, fishy?” he asked quickly.

  “Fishy in the most literal sense.”Gordon said. “In spite of the new paint, there’s a faint but definite aroma of long-dead fish about her. You’ll get used to it.”

  “My people have planned a small dinner in honor of your arrival,” Dr. Warren said. “It isn’t every day we have the famous Spindrift scientists arriving inHonolulu . We’ll celebrate at your hotel at seven this evening.”

  Hartson Brant laughed. “Are you impressed by our past accomplishments, Paul, or are you just flattering us so we’ll work harder to dredge up some old bones for you to study?”

  “A little of both,” Dr. Warren returned with a grin. “But it’s a pleasure to see you again, Hartson. I’m looking forward to seeing Hobart Zircon tomorrow, too. It’s a long time since our last meeting.”

  The station wagon crossed a bridge over a small canal and Professor Gordon pointed out into the bay. “See the yachts? This isKewaloBasin . Our own dock is just around the corner.”

  Rick looked, but he could see nothing that might have been their trawler. “Where are we staying?” he asked.

  “At theLehua Hotel,” Dr. Warren replied. “My own place is too far out of town for convenience, although I’d have liked to have you stay with me. Mrs. Warren is getting ready for your mother and sister. I’m afraid she has so much planned they’ll be worn out after a month.”

  “NotBarby ,” Rick said. “Nothing wears her out. She has more pep than a jumping jack.”

  Barby Brant, Rick’s pretty sister, and his mother were spending a week with relatives on the West Coast before coming toHawaii by ship to be the guests of Dr. and Mrs. Warren.

  The feminine members of the Spindrift family would be waiting when the expedition returned toHawaii .

  In a few moments the station wagon swung into a long driveway that led to a building

  almost hidden by a mass of green, fragrant shrubbery. Hawaiian bellboys came running, smiling a greeting.

  TheLehua proved to be a cottage hotel. The guests lived in small cottages set along shaded walks. After registering, Gordon led the way to their quarters. He had arranged for two cottages, side by side, and only a hundred feet from the water. The scientists were to share one cottage while the boys shared the other.

  Rick noticed that his father was deep in conversation with Dr. Warren and Professor Gordon. The older members of the party had a lot to talk over. They wouldn’t miss the boys.

  “Who’s for a swim?” he asked.

  Scotty and Chahda lost no time in agreeing. They hurried to unpack and get into their suits,then they raced for the water front.

  A stone sea wall ran along the front of the hotel grounds, a sandy beach below it. The central path from the cottages ended in an open-air pavilion that was built out over the beach. The water was a clear green, the bottom crushed coral.

  Kick tested the temperature with his toe. “Not much like Spindrift,” he said. “It’s pretty warm.”

  Like all boys away from home, he had the habit of comparing everything with its counterpart at home, and at the moment, the bracing, cool water of theAtlantic seemed better than the warm Pacific.

  Chahda stated, “In tropicsAlm-in-ack not mentioning icebergs.”

  “Don’t be so literal,” Rick said. “I only remarked that it’s warm. Well, what are we waiting for?”

  “Nothing.”Scotty put a period to the word by jumping from the sea wall, taking a short run, and diving into the water. Rick and Chahda were right behind him.

  Rick swam along the bottom for a moment,then shot to the surface. “Wheel” he exclaimed. “First swim in the Pacific!” He stood waist-deep in water and looked out past the reef to the open sea. For the first time he felt as though the adventure was really under way. It wouldn’t be long before he was exploring the ocean depths from the interior of the Submobile.

  Scotty bobbed to the surface like a cork and Chahda splashed in circles, doing his own variation of the dog paddle. The Hindu boy was just learning to swim.

  For an hour they enjoyed the famous water of theWaikiki district, Rick and Scotty taking turns in instructing Chahda. Then, tiring of the sport, they sprawled on the warm sand next to the pavilion.

  Rick had noticed that two men were seated in the pavilion, but he paid them no attention until he heard Professor Gordon’s name mentioned. He turned his head and looked up. The men were seated with then-backs to him. One was dressed in a well-cut gray suit. His shoulders were the most prominent thing about him. They were enormous, seeming to push out the material of his coat. He had black hair, cut rather close, andwhen he sp
oke his voice was commanding, his words clipped .

  The second man wore stained dungarees and a ragged sweater. He was thin, and almost bald except for a fringe of sandy hair. He spoke in an accent that Rick thought was English.

  “Did you get the stuff aboard all right?” the man in the gray suit asked.

  “Aye.Soon’syou called I got one of the lads and we nipped aboard with it.”

  “Any trouble?”

  “Not any.It’s stowed good. Saw to itmeself .”

  “Good. Then we’ll be all set when we raise Kwangara.How about the provisions?”

  “All stowed proper. I’d best begettin ’ back. You coming

  “Not now. I have a few things to do.”

  At the mention of Kwangara, Rick had felt Scotty’s hand tighten on his arm. He nodded slightly, indicating that he had heard. He kept an eye on the two men as theyrose , lit cigars, and strolled down the boardwalk to the sea wall. Not until they started up the path to the hotel did he see their faces.

  The man with the gray suit was swarthy, and his face was almost square, with a tough chin and a firm mouth. His companion had a long, horsy face and eyes that seemed fighter in color than his skin.

  Suddenly the dark man half turned, as though he felt Rick watching him. For an instant,

  piercing dark eyes locked with Rick’s,then the man smiled andpodded and continued up the path to the hotel.

  When they were out of hearing, Scotty demanded, “And what was all that?”

  “I don’t know,” Rick answered grimly, “but we’re going to find out. Did you get a look at them?”

  “That man in gray suit, he is what Scotty calls tough consumer,” Chahda declared.

  “Tough customer,” Scotty corrected. “You’re right, Chahda. What do you suppose they were talking about?”

  “Horse face took something aboard ship,” Rick said thoughtfully. “And, since they mentioned Professor Gordon and Kwangara, it must be our ship. We’d better check up.

  If there’s anything off-color going on, we want to clip it before it gets going good.”

  “Let’s go.” Scotty stood up. “Maybe Professor Gordon will have some ideas.”

  As they hiked up the path, Rick asked: “Did I say something about no trouble on this trip? When will I learn to keep my big mouthshut! ”