Nevil Shute - On The Beach

They had a cup of tea before the dying fire.

Eighteen days later U.S.S. Scorpion surfaced in clean air in latitude thirty-one degrees south, near Norfolk Island. At the entrance to the Tasman Sea in winter the weather was bleak and the sea rough, the low deck swept by every wave. It was only possible to allow the crew up to the bridge deck eight at a time; they crept up, white faced and trembling, to huddle in oilskins in the driving rain and spray. Dwight kept the submarine hove-to head into the wind for most of the day till everyone had had his allotted half-hour in the fresh air, but few of the men stayed on the bridge so long.

Their resistance to the cold and wet conditions on the bridge was low, but at least he had brought them all back alive, with the exception of Yeoman Swain. All were white faced and anaemic after thirty-one days’ confinement within the hull, and he had three cases of intense depression rendering those men unreliable for duty. He had had one bad fright when Lieutenant Brody had developed all the symptoms of acute appendicitis; with John Osborne helping him he had read up all the procedure for the operation and prepared to do it on the wardroom table. However the symptoms had subsided and the patient was now resting comfortably in his berth; Peter Holmes had taken over all his duties and the captain now hoped that he might last out until they docked at Williamstown in five days’ time. Peter Holmes was as normal as anyone on board. John Osborne was nervous and irritable though still efficient; he talked incessantly of his Ferrari.

They had disproved the Jorgensen effect. They had ventured slowly into the Gulf of Alaska using their underwater mine detector as a defence against floating icebergs till they had reached latitude fifty-eight north in the vicinity of Kodiak. The ice was thicker near the land and they had not approached it; up there the radiation level was still lethal and little different to that they had experienced in the Seattle district. There seemed to be no point in risking the vessel in those waters any longer than was necessary; they took their readings and set course a little to the east of south till they found warmer water and less

chance of ice, and then southwest towards Hawaii and Pearl Harbor.

At Pearl Harbor they had learned practically nothing. They had cruised right into the harbour and up to the dock that they had sailed from before the outbreak of the war. Psychologically this was relatively easy for them, because Dwight had ascertained before the cruise commenced that none of the ship’s company had had their homes in Honolulu or had any close ties with the Islands.

He could have put an officer on shore in a radiation suit as he had done at Santa Maria and he debated for some days with Peter Holmes before he reached the Islands whether he should do so, but they could think of nothing to be gained by such an expedition. When Lieutenant Sunderstrom had had time on his hands at Santa Maria all that he had found to do had been to read The Saturday Evening Post, and they could think of little more useful that an officer on shore could do at Pearl Harbor. The radiation level was much as it had been at Seattle, they noted and listed the many ships in the harbour, the considerable destruction on the shore, and left.

That day, hove-to at the entrance to the Tasman Sea, they were within easy radio communication with Australia. They raised the radio mast and made a signal reporting their position and their estimated time of arrival back at Williamstown. They got a signal in reply asking for their state of health, and Dwight answered in a fairly lengthy message that he worded with some difficulty in regard to Yeoman Swain. A few routine messages came through then dealing with weather forecasts, fueling requirements, and engineering work required when they docked, and in the middle of the morning came a more important one.

It bore a dateline three days previous. It read,

From: Commanding Officer, U.S. Naval Forces, Brisbane.

To: Commander Dwight L. Towers, U.S.S. Scorpion.

Subject: Assumption of additional duties.

1. On the retirement of the present Commanding Officer, U.S. Naval Forces, at this date you will immediately and henceforth assume the duty of Commanding Officer, U.S. Naval Forces, in all areas. You will use your discretion as to the disposition of these forces, and you will terminate or continue their employment under Australian command as you think fit.

2. Guess this makes you an admiral if you want to be one. Good-bye and good luck. Jerry Shaw.

3. Copy to First Naval Member, Royal Australian Navy.

Dwight read this in his cabin with an expressionless face. Then, since a copy had already gone to the Australians, he sent for his liaison officer. When Peter came he handed him the signal without a word.

The lieutenant commander read it. "Congratulations, sir," he said quietly.

"I suppose so..." said the captain. And then he said, "I suppose this means that Brisbane’s out now."

Brisbane was two hundred and fifty miles in latitude to the north of their position then. Peter nodded, his mind on the radiation figures. "It was pretty bad still yesterday afternoon."

"I thought he might have left his ship and come down south," the captain said.

"They couldn’t move at all?"

"No fuel oil," Dwight said. "They had to stop all services in the ships. The tanks were bone dry."

" I should have thought that he’d have come to Melbourne. After all, the Supreme Commander of the U.S. Navy...

Dwight smiled, a little wryly. "That doesn’t mean a thing, not now. No, the real point is that he was captain of his ship and the ship couldn’t move. He wouldn’t want to run out on his ship’s company."

There was no more to be said, and he dismissed his liaison officer. He drafted a short signal in acknowledgment and gave it to the signals officer for transmission via Melbourne, with a copy for the First Naval Member. Presently the yeoman came to him and laid a signal on his desk.

Your 12/ 05663.

Regret no communications are now possible with Brisbane.

The captain nodded. "Okay," he said. "Let it go."

Peter Holmes reported to the Second Naval Member the day after they returned to Williamstown. The admiral motioned to him to sit down. "I met Commander Towers for a few minutes last night, Lieutenant Commander," he said. "You seem to have got on well with him."

"I’m glad to hear that, sir."

"Yes. Now I suppose you want to know about a continuation of your appointment."

Peter said diffidently, "In a way. I take it that the general situation is the same? I mean, there’s only two or three months left to go?"

The admiral nodded. "That seems to be correct. You told me when I saw you last that you would prefer to be on shore in these last months."

"I should." He hesitated. "I’ve got to think a bit about my wife."

"Of course." He offered the young man a cigarette, and lit one himself. "Scorpion is going into dry dock for hull reconditioning," he said. "I suppose you know that."

"Yes sir. The captain was anxious to have that done. I saw the Third Naval Member’s office about it this morning."

"Normally that might take about three weeks. It may take longer under present conditions. Would you like to stay on with her as liaison officer while that work is going on?" He paused. "Commander Towers has asked for you to continue in the appointment for the time being."

"Could I live at home, down at Falmouth? It takes me about an hour and three quarters to get to the dockyard."

"You’d better take that up with Commander Towers. I don’t suppose you’ll find that he has any objection. It’s not as if the ship was in commission. I understand he’s giving leave to most of the ship’s company. I don’t suppose your duties would be very arduous, but you would be a help to him in dealing with the dockyard."