In one instance, during our trials in the Patapsco, several gentlemen were very importunate in requesting the privilege of making a descent the next time we were to submerge. They were accordingly notified when the boat was to go down. At the appointed time, however, some of them did not appear, and of those who did not one at the last would venture. I have no doubt had we made the descent at the time they made the request all would have gone, but thinking about it for a couple of days made them change their minds.
On another trip we had a college professor on board who could not understand exactly how our men could get out of the boat. I told him to come into the diver’s compartment and I would explain it to him. Accordingly he reluctantly, as I thought, entered the compartment, which in the Argonaut is a little room only four feet long and a little wider. After closing the door I noticed that the colour was leaving his face and a few beads of perspiration were standing out upon his forehead, and had he been any one else than a professor or, possibly, a newspaper man, I would not have gone any further with the experiment. The door, however, was closed and securely fastened. I then opened the valve a full turn, and the air began to rush in with a great noise. He grabbed hold of one of the frames and glanced with longing eyes at the door we had just entered. I then turned off the air and said, “By the way, Professor, are you troubled with heart disease?” He said, placing his hand over his heart, “Why, yes, my heart is a little affected.” Remarking, “Oh, well, this little depth will not hurt you,” I turned on the air again after saying to him, “If you feel any pain in your ears swallow as if you were drinking water.” He immediately commenced swallowing, and during that half-minute or so we were getting the pressure on I believe he swallowed enough to have drunk a bucketful of water. After getting the desired pressure I stooped down and commenced to unscrew the bolts, holding the door which leads out into the water. Our professor said, “What are you doing now?” I answered, “I am going to open this door so that you can see the bottom.” Throwing out his hands he said, “No, no. Don’t do that. I would not put you to that trouble for the world.” However, about that time the door dropped down, and as he saw the water did not come in the colour returned to his face, and he exclaimed, “Well, if I had not seen it I would never have believed it!”
Mr. Lake declares that as a submarine torpedo-boat his vessel will be practically invincible. She could, he claims, approach a stationary enemy on the bottom and rise up under the water and secure a time-fuse torpedo to her bottom, and she could be fitted with tubes to fire automobile torpedoes. She could also find cables to repair or cut them, and could be used for countermining purposes. The Argonaut is, however, intended not so much for warfare as for recovering treasures from the deep, and for the coral, sponge, pearl, and similar industries. It has been calculated that of the cargoes, treasures and vessels lost in the merchant service the aggregate amounts to over one hundred millions of dollars per year, and the loss has, of course, been going on for many years.
“There is every reason to believe,” says a writer, “that the sea is even richer than the earth, owing to the millions of shipwrecks which have swallowed up so many a royal fortune; the wealth lying at the bottom of the ocean transcends the fabulous riches of the Klondyke.”
The recovery of sunken treasure has always exercised a great fascination over certain minds, and much money has been spent in devising means whereby it might be brought again to the surface. Hitherto the results have not been such as might have been desired, but the Argonaut seems to promise success in the future.
Mr. Lake believes that the majority of the great losses on the ocean occur in waters in which it will be practical to operate with submarine boats of the Argonaut type. The bottom around the coast lines of the United States is principally composed of a hard white or grey sand and is very uniform. The depth increases from the shore at the average rate of about 6 feet per mile, and the bottom forms “an ideal roadway.” The Argonaut can descend to 100 feet below the surface. Needless to say, there are ocean depths where the pressure would be so great that man could never live, but Mr. Lake appears to think that exploring the ocean bed, within certain limits, will become in the near future almost as common as travelling on the surface.
Mr. Lake’s third under-water vessel, Argonaut No. 3, is built of steel, is 66 feet long and 10 feet wide, and displaces 100 tons; the motive power is gasoline, and the air chambers contain 13,000 cubic feet of air. She has four large wheels for running on the bottom and also twin screws for the surface.
THE “ARGONAUT” ON THE SEA BOTTOM.
The following is taken from a New York paper, and relates to an entertainment given on Argonaut No. 3:—