I immediately gave orders for the pumps to be started, with the result that they started rattling, but with a more clanking, empty noise, so to speak, than usual.... They did not help us in the least; we remained sticking in the mud, exactly as we were before.
This was the last straw, and I must confess our confidence began to waver somewhat.
In the meantime we had sunk a little deeper according to the depth gauge, while, on the other hand, the rolling had ceased and we lay perfectly still.
Once more I gave energetic orders to rise immediately to the surface. The pumps started rattling and ran empty again. That was no good therefore.
The situation must be carefully thought out, otherwise we should be lying in the same place till morning.
After a lot of trouble the engineer, Klees, succeeded in getting the pumps into working order again.
With a deep humming sound they started pressing the water out of the tanks—they were working! As if transfixed our eyes sought the hand of the depth gauge. Hurrah! we were coming free, we were rising, the hand was pointing to 26 fathoms ... could I trust my eyes ... what the devil was that again? ... the gauge suddenly pointed to 11 fathoms ... then on again to 26 fathoms ... and back to 11 once more....
The affair was now growing critical.... We looked at each other, absolutely at the end of our resources, not knowing what was wrong with the boat or with ourselves, nor even at what depth we were ... and now even the depth gauges had gone mad!...
In order to understand what this means, it must be clearly realised that in a submerged boat nothing can be known or seen, except by means of the hands of the depth gauge. If that once ceases to fulfil its functions correctly, then you are absolutely "at sea."
The situation had therefore grown very serious. Nevertheless, an iron calm reigned in the boat. We had the consolation that in the utmost emergency we could use our compressed air, which could not fail to bring us to the surface, even if the pumps failed us.