Free Around the World Submerged by Edward L. Beach Page B

but small enough to fit through our hatches; it had to be memorial in nature, in keeping with the intent; and it had to be something that both Spaniards and Americans could henceforth look at with pride.
    Another problem was to obtain adequate charts, in secrecy, and to lay out our course in meticulous detail in advance, so that the Navy would always know precisely where we were. Our track was to be some thirty-four thousand nautical miles, in itself a fantastic plotting job, and this, too, had to be done surreptitiously!
    As for the necessary provisions, submarines have had years of experience in preparing for long cruises, though never for one so long as this. Triton had been designed to carry food supplies for seventy-five days, and we knew her huge hull could easily carry more. Arbitrarily, I resolved to increase this by at least a half, and directed that the ship be provisioned for one hundred and twenty days. If worst came to worst, and a longextended cruise became necessary, we could go on half-rations and stretch the voyage to six months.
    There was the scientific equipment to get ready, also. Most of it would be sent to us by the Navy, but it was up to Triton to decide where it was to be stowed and to make special arrangements for the installation of whatever foundations, telemetering circuits, and remote controls were needed. A whole package had to be prepared without spilling the beans to anyone.
    At 5:45 A.M ., when I finally stepped off the train in New London, with sheets of notes in my hand, I realized fully that there were but twelve days left in which to get ready.

By the fifteenth of February, most of the problems had been solved, and we were nearly ready to begin the voyage. The last eleven days had been crammed with work. Les Kelly, our inspired engineer who had put the ship through her trials, had made his envious good-byes. Commander Will Adams and Lieutenant Commander Bob Buhner, Executive Officer and Operations Officer respectively, had spent most of their time in ComSubLant’s locked chart room plotting our course. With them was the only enlisted man to be informed of the real nature of our trip, Chief Quartermaster William J. Marshall, Adams’ navigational assistant.
    The secret of our voyage was not, in the end, kept from Triton ’s officers. After much thought, I got them together and told them, holding back only the indicated super-importance ofgetting back on time. There was simply too much to be done for them to be kept in the dark; we had to spread our work in too many different directions at once. Except for Marshall, neither Triton ’s crew nor the passengers who came aboard a day or so before our departure could be told anything. An announcement had been made that we would be under way for a much longer time than originally scheduled, using my bureaucrat as an excuse. All hands had been advised that our Squadron office—the headquarters of Submarine Squadron 10, to which Triton belonged—would be glad to assist in all personal emergencies, and men expecting additions to their families were especially told to notify the Squadron. A broad hint was given out that strictly personal information pertaining to family increases might find its way into official radio traffic, as it had during the war.
    All hands were advised to lay in a private supply of tobacco, chewing gum, toothpaste, soap, and other personal necessities, for submarines carry no ship’s store where these items may be purchased. (Quartermaster First Class Curtis Beacham was, as a result, observed trying to stow eighteen boxes of cigars, which he figured would just about last him the trip.)
    There was one other person, I realized in a few days, who apparently knew of the real nature of our projected voyage. About midway during our period of preparation, a telephone call came for me. I took it on the private line which had been connected to my stateroom.
    A female voice said, “Captain Beach? Admiral Rickover calling.” I