The Brighton Boys with the Submarine Fleet | Page 5

Huge electric
fans swept the foul air along the passageway and up through the
hatchways, while other fans placed near the ventilators distributed the
fresh air as it poured into the vessel, drawn by the suction.
From the engine room the boys walked forward into the control
chamber---the base of the conning tower---the very heart and brain of
the undersea ship. Here were the many levers controlling the ballast
tanks, Witt explaining to the boys that the submarine was submerged
and raised again by filling the tanks with water and expelling it again to
rise by blowing it out with compressed air. Here also was the depth dial
and the indicator bands that showed when the ship was going down or
ascending again, the figures being marked off in feet on the dial just
like a clock. Here also was the gyro-compass by which the ship was

steered when submerged; here also the torpedo control by means of
which the torpedoes were discharged in firing. And, yes, here was the
periscope---the great eye of the submarine---a long tube running up
through the conning tower twenty feet above the commander's turret of
steel.
"Something like the folding telescope we have at home to look at
pictures," mumbled Jack aside to Ted.
To the boys' great delight they were allowed to put their eyes to the
hood and gaze into the periscope. In turn they "took a peep." What they
saw was the forward deck of the Dewey, the guns in position, other
vessels moored nearby and the blue expanse of water stretching out into
the harbor and on to the open sea. It was rather an exciting moment for
the two "landlubbers."
Witt next showed them forward through the officers' quarters and the
wireless room into the torpedo compartment. This interested them
greatly. On either side of the vessel, chained to the sides of the hull on
long runners that led up to the firing tubes, were the massive torpedoes,
ready to be pushed forward for insertion in the firing chambers. Chief
Gunner Mowrey was working over one of the breech caps and turned to
meet the new recruits.
"Glad to meet you, mates," was his hearty salutation.
The boys listened attentively while Mowrey was telling Witt of some
great "hits" they had made in practice earlier in the morning. Bill Witt
showed the boys in turn the bunks that folded out of the sides of the
vessel in which the crew slept, the electric stove for cooking food in the
ship's tiny galley, the ballast tanks and the storage batteries running
along the keel of the vessel underneath the steel flooring.
Climbing up on deck again through the conning tower, the boys found
themselves out on top of the projection in what Witt explained was the
deck steering station whence the Dewey was navigated when cruising
on the surface. Down on the deck the boys inspected the smart-looking
four-inch guns with which they later were to become better acquainted,

and the trim little anti-aircraft guns to be used in case of attack by
Zeppelins or aeroplanes.
"Keep your eyes and ears wide open all the time; remember what you
are told and you'll soon catch on," Witt told them.
Shortly before noon Lieutenant McClure, commander of the Dewey, a
youthful-looking chap who, they learned later, had not been long out of
Annapolis, came aboard. It was soon evident that there was something
doing, for in a few minutes the propeller blades began to churn the
water, and the exhaust of the engines fluttered at the port-holes. The
tow lines ashore were cast off and then very gracefully and almost
noiselessly the Dewey began slipping away from its dock. The head of
the vessel swung around and pointed out the harbor.
"We're off, boy!" exclaimed Jack to his chum. They were, indeed. The
boys were standing in front of the conning tower and, because it was
their first submarine voyage and they had yet to acquire their sea legs,
they kept firm hold on the wire railing that ran the length of the deck on
either side of the vessel. Commander McClure and Executive Officer
Binns were up on the deck steering station behind a sheath of white
canvas directing the movement of the ship.
"This is what I call great!" laughed Ted as the Dewey began to gather
speed and moved out into the bay.
Looking seaward the boys beheld the prow of the submarine splitting
the water clean as a knife, the spray dashing in great white sheets over
the anchor chains. From aft came the steady chug-chug of the engines'
exhaust, to be drowned out at intervals as the swell of water surged
over the port-holes. They seemed to be afloat on a narrow raft propelled
swiftly through the water