“No close contacts!”
As USS Annapolis reached periscope depth, the Officer of the Deck’s announcement was the first piece of routine news Commander Ramsey Hootman had heard in a while. Just over a day ago, the ice pack above Annapolis had broken apart, sending jagged ice keels downward, crashing into the submarine’s steel hull. But they were lucky; although the Engine Room hull had been deformed, the three-inch-thick steel hadn’t been punctured. However, the seawater cooling system pipes had cracked in multiple places, spraying frigid water throughout the Engine Room, and Ramsey’s crew had shut the Emergency Flood Isolation Valves. Six hours later, the seawater piping had been repaired and propulsion restored, and Annapolis had surged south again.
They were now in the Marginal Ice Zone just north of St. Lawrence Island in the Bering Strait, and as Annapolis cruised at periscope depth, the lack of announcements troubled Ramsey. The Quartermaster should have reported a GPS satellite fix by now, and there was no report from Radio either.
The Navigator stepped onto the Conn. “Sir, we’ve reported our successful under-ice transit and our position. There must be some sort of makeshift communication system overhead, because we received an acknowledgment, but nothing else. All satellites are still down. Unable to obtain a GPS fix or download the submarine broadcast.”
“Understand,” Ramsey replied.
This was not good news. The first order of business after completing an under-ice transit was to determine the ship’s position. Annapolis had navigated across the top of the world using her two inertial navigators, and they had become unstable as they approached the North Pole. As a result, their estimated position could be off by several miles. They couldn’t approach close to shore, clearing the way for the Marine Expeditionary Forces, without knowing exactly where they were. Even more important, they needed to download new software for their torpedoes. Both of those efforts required satellites.
Ramsey stepped off the Conn, stopping at the Navigation Table, joined by the Nav. Ramsey searched for a way to verify their position. The GPS satellites were still inoperable, and the old LORAN and Omega systems had been retired years earlier. As he studied the navigation chart, an idea took hold. They were just north of St. Lawrence Island, where the water shallowed rapidly—they could do a bottom contour fix. By comparing the water depth measured by the submarine’s Fathometer to charted depth, they could verify their position, at least to within a hundred yards. Not good enough for launching ballistic missiles, but good enough for submarine warfare.
Ramsey explained the plan to the Nav, then turned to his Officer of the Deck. “Bring her down to five hundred feet, ahead standard, course two-zero-zero.” The Officer of the Deck complied, and a moment later Annapolis tilted downward, increasing depth and speed.