“Yes, they’re still supplying Wake,” Larry said. “We’re not too far away from it any more, but we haven’t got it really cut off. But our course isn’t very close to Wake.”
“Couldn’t we just edge over that way and have a look?” March asked.
“Well, now, maybe we could,” Larry said. “Nobody told us just what course to follow out here. When we get a bit further we’ve got to run submerged most of the time anyway. We just laid down the straightest route to our destination. But a little detour wouldn’t do any harm. Lieutenant Anson, carry us over near Wake.”
With a smile, March left the wardroom and went to the navigating desk. There he plotted the course for Wake Island, went up on the conning tower for a shot of the sun to check his course, and gave the new course to the helmsman. Then he went back to the wardroom.
“About six hundred Army-Navy time, courtesy of Whoozis watches,” he announced, “we shall sight Wake Island.”
“Hm, works out very nicely,” Larry said. “Tomorrow morning just after dawn. We can travel on the surface all night and submerge just before the approach.”
Everyone was up and about early the next morning, even those who had been on watch during the night. Breakfast was over and officers and men were at their stations before dawn.
“We may get nothing, of course,” Larry said. “We mustn’t get our hopes up.”
“Okay, Skipper,” McFee said. “We’re just dropping by for a look and if anything’s there we’ll try to take care of it.”
“Rig ship for diving,” the Skipper said, and the word was passed throughout the boat. One by one the departments reported back to March that everything was ready. The long slim boat slid under the water, the whine of the electric motors replacing the throbbing of the Diesels. As March handled the diving operations, he recalled the days when it had seemed to him such a complicated and difficult task. Now it was a simple straightforward job, especially when carried out by a crew that knew its job.