Chapter II: Comedy and Tragedy in Submarine Development (1)

One of the first queries which laymen usually direct at the submarine navigator is, "Are you not afraid that the boat will never come up?" and other variants on the same theme. Most people are surprised and many are very sceptical when they are informed that there is no sensation at all connected with the act of going under water in a boat except that due to one's own imagination. The fact is that if one were going down inside the vessel in some of the modern submarines he could not readily tell whether the vessel was running on the surface or navigating in a submerged condition.

I remember the time when it was first decided to give a public exhibition of the _Argonaut_ in 1897. Various newspapers were permitted to send their representatives to make a submerged trip in the vessel. Quite a large number of newspaper men were present, and among the reporters was one young lady representing a New York newspaper. This being the first time that the newspaper fraternity had been given the opportunity to make a submarine trip, speculation ran rife as to the outcome of the venture. So great a number of reporters came that all could not be permitted to board the vessel. Lots were therefore cast as to who should go. The lady claimed the privilege of her sex, and all agreed that she should be one of the party. When the lots were drawn, one of those who had drawn a lucky number suddenly recalled that he was afflicted with a very diseased heart, and he did not feel it wise to go. Another discovered that his life insurance had just expired, and he gave up his opportunity to a friend. Finally the party was made up and the boat started away from the dock. They were all invited down into the cabin, where a general conversation ensued as to the possibilities of submarine navigation proving a success, upon the sensation of going under water, and other related subjects; I had given the signal to submerge, in the meantime, several minutes before they had finished visiting with each other. Soon one of them asked me when I expected to submerge. They were all greatly surprised when I informed them that we had already been under water for several minutes, and they would hardly believe it until I took them into the conning tower, where they could see the dark green of the water through the glass of the eye-ports. Two of the party promptly discovered that they had each a bottle of champagne concealed about their persons. It was their opinion that it was time to drink to the health of the lady and to the success of the _Argonaut_. After we had rummaged around and finally found an old rusty tin cup, this was done.

All first experiences, however, have not been so pleasant as that of the _Argonaut's_ trial. The submarine _Hunley_ (page 150) suffocated and drowned four different crews during her brief career. Twice she was found standing on end with her bow stuck in the mud in the bottom of the river, with a crew of nine men dead in her fore part, where they had been thrown when she dived to the bottom. In these two instances the men were suffocated, due to lack of air, as no water was found in the boat when she was raised. The gradual exhaustion of the air and final unconsciousness which overtook these brave volunteers can only be left to the imagination.

When experimenting with the _Argonaut_, I received a visit from the late Col. Charles H. Hasker, of Richmond, Va. He had volunteered as one of the party to try the _Hunley_ after she had suffocated her second crew. On the trial, for which Mr. Hasker volunteered, she started away from the dock in tow of the gunboat _Ettawan_ by a line thrown over the hatch combing. She had been trimmed down so that she had very little freeboard, and as she gained headway she started to "shear," due to her peculiar flatiron-shaped bow. Lieutenant Payne, who was in command, attempted to throw the towline off the hatch combing, but got caught in the bight of the line. On his struggle to free himself he knocked a prop from under the tiller of the horizontal diving rudder, which had been set to hold the bow up. As soon as the prop was knocked out the tiller dropped down and inclined the horizontal rudder to dive, and the vessel dove with her hatches open. Lieutenant Payne freed himself, and Colonel Hasker managed to get partly out of one of the hatches before the vessel sank, but the inrushing force of the water closed the hatch door, which caught him by the calf of his leg, and he was carried with the vessel to the bottom in forty-two feet of water. However, he maintained his presence of mind, and when the vessel became full it balanced the pressure so that he could release himself from the hatch cover. He was a good swimmer and escaped to the surface. Two men escaped from the other hatch. The other five members of the crew were drowned in the vessel.

Notwithstanding that this was the third time she had sunk and killed a number of men, she was again raised and a crew of nine other brave men was found to man her. Under command of Lieutenant Dixon, on the night of February 17, 1864, she was brought alongside of the United States battleship _Housatonic_ and sank her, but Lieutenant Dixon and his crew went down with the _Hunley_ at the same time. Thus, in the various attempts to operate this vessel in a submerged condition, a total of thirty-two lives were lost.

The New Orleans submarine boat was also built by the Confederates during the Civil War. A friend who took the photograph of this vessel told me the following story as related to him by a Southern gentleman who was familiar with the history of the boat. It appears that this submarine was the conception of a wealthy planter who owned a number of slaves. He thought that it would add considerable interest to the occasion of her launching if, when the vessel left the ways, she should disappear beneath the waves and make a short run beneath the surface before coming up. So he took two of his most intelligent slaves and instructed them how to hold the tiller when the vessel slid down the ways, and in which way to turn the propeller for a time after she began to lose her launched speed. He told them when they got ready to come up they should push the tiller down and the vessel would come to the surface to be towed ashore.

A great crowd assembled to see this novel launching. "When things were all ready," said the old Southern gentleman, "sure enough, them two niggers got into the boat and shut down the hatches; and do you know, suh, that at that time them niggers was worth a thousand dollars apiece." Well, it seems that the boat slid down the ways and disappeared under the water just as had been planned. The crowd waited expectantly, but the vessel did not reappear. Eventually they got into boats and put out hooks and grappling lines, but she could not be found. The designer of the craft stated as his opinion that "he might have known better than to trust them pesky niggers anyway," and he was willing to bet that they had taken the opportunity to steal the vessel and run away. He asserted that very likely they would take the boat up North and give it to the Yankees, and that they could expect to hear of the "Yanks" using it to blow up some of their own (Confederate) ships.

Her disappearance remained a mystery for a great many years--until long after the war closed, in fact, and the incident had been forgotten. Years afterward, during some dredging operations to deepen the harbor, the dredge buckets one day got hold of something they could not lift. A diver was sent down to investigate, and he reported that there was some metal object buried in the mud which looked like a steam boiler. They set to work to raise this, and putting chains around it they lifted it on to the wharf. The old gentleman, in closing the narrative, remarked, "And do you know, suh, when they opened the hatch them two blamed niggers was still in thar, but they warn't wuth a damned cent."

One amusing experience that I had occurred in the Chesapeake Bay in 1898, a few miles below the Potomac River. We were bound from Baltimore to Hampton Roads, and a part of the journey was made on the bottom of the bay. We found this exceedingly interesting, as we could sit in the divers' compartment and view, through the open divers' door, the various kinds of bottom we were passing over, rake up oysters and clams, catch crabs with a crab net, and amuse ourselves in trying to spear fish.

The _Argonaut_ at this time had a double pipe mast fifty feet in height, through one of which we got air to run our engines. The other was to provide for the exhaust. We carried a red flag on top of this mast as a warning to surface vessels to keep clear. One afternoon we had been submerged about four hours, running on the bottom in depths varying from twenty-five to forty-five feet; night coming on, we decided to come up and seek a harbor. When we came to the surface we noticed a "bugeye" (a small schooner) "hove to" about fifty yards to the leeward. I blew the centre tank, which brought our conning tower up out of the water, opened the hatch, and hailed the skipper of the bugeye to ask our location and the nearest harbor. He did not wait to answer, but as soon as I yelled he squared away "wing and wing" for the shore. As there was a stiff breeze blowing, it did not take him long to make it, and he ran his vessel right up on the sandy beach, where we saw him and another man--who composed the crew--clamber out over the bow and start to run inland as fast as they could go, leaving their boat without so much as lowering their sails. We finally located ourselves as just north of the mouth of the Rappahannock River, and saw that there was a good harbor very near, so we put in there for the night. After supper, as we were in need of fresh provisions, we went ashore and learned that there was a store a couple of miles down the peninsula. We walked down there and found the store full of natives who were obviously curious as to our identity and business. Finally the storekeeper gathered up his courage and asked us who we were. When he learned that we were down on an experimental cruise in the submarine boat _Argonaut_, he burst into laughter and told us that we had solved a mystery which had stirred up the entire community. He then explained that just about dark one of his neighbors, who never had been known to drink and whose reputation for veracity was excellent, had rushed into the store, followed by his mate. Both were pale from fright, and sank on the porch completely exhausted. They then related a weird tale of seeing a red flag moving down the bay _against the current_ on a buoy. When they went alongside of it they heard a "puff-puff" like a locomotive--that was the exhaust from our engine coming up out of the pipe--and, furthermore, they stated that they had smelt sulphur distinctly. Just then, they claimed, the buoy commenced to rise up and a smokestack--our conning tower--came up out of the water and "out stepped the devil"--myself, who at that time had on a rather brilliant red cap. Then they had "moseyed" for shore as fast as they could go. The storekeeper said that they had put the honorable captain to bed, and implied that he would be "right smart mad" when he learned how he had deceived himself. We went back to our boat and got an early start in the morning, as we did not know but that the "guying" of his neighbors might "rile" the captain considerably--and these Virginians are usually pretty good rifle shots.

One of the greatest dangers in submarine navigation is that of being run down by surface vessels when the submarine comes to the surface after a deep submergence. I mean by a deep submergence when the vessel goes down so far that the water covers the top of her periscope and the commander gets out of touch with surface vessels. All submarine commanders have probably had narrow escapes from this danger; it is one of the chances that go with the business. I myself have had several very close calls. The first was with the _Protector_ manoeuvring in rough weather in Long Island Sound off Bridgeport in 1903. The weather was exceedingly rough, the wind blowing a halfgale and blowing the spume from the white-caps into spray. Some of our directors were in a large towboat at anchor and we were manoeuvring in their vicinity, running back and forth, submerging, etc., so that they might observe how steadily she could run in a rough sea. Finally, upon submerging, we observed a sloop in distress; part of her rigging had been carried away, and she was half full of water. The sea had broken the cabin windows and she was on the verge of sinking. We observed this through the periscope, so we came up and got a line to her and took her into Bridgeport. There were several young men aboard her, and when they first saw us standing on our conning tower they thought we also had been wrecked and were on top of a buoy.

As the _Protector_ had functioned beautifully and we had in addition saved a shipwrecked crew, I felt quite proud of the day's performance, and was greatly surprised, therefore, when I reported to the directors, who had preceded us into the harbor, to have one of them "call me down" for taking such a foolhardy chance in submerging just in front of the steamer _Bridgeport_. He was astonished when I told him that I had never seen the steamer, and then he informed me that I had submerged just under her bow, and as she was going very fast they all expected us to be hit. The white-caps and spray had prevented us from seeing the steamer, as our periscope was a short one and only gave us intermittent views in the rough water. I was curious to learn whether the captain of the steamer had seen us, but I was told by him that he had not. The rough water had prevented the captain from seeing the wake of our periscope, just as it had made it impossible for us to catch a sight of his vessel.

At another time of close escape I was in the channel leading from the Gulf of Finland into Cronstadt, Russia.

We were requested to conduct some manoeuvres for the purpose of familiarizing the Russian officers and crew with the method of handling the boat. Admiral Rodjevensky's fleet was outfitting off Cronstadt, preparing to start for the Orient. As the officers of the battle squadron had never seen a submarine in operation, we were requested to conduct our manoeuvres in their vicinity. One of the high Russian admirals, whom I afterward met at the officers' club in Cronstadt, said to me: "Mr. Lake, I do not like your submarine boat. One can never tell where it is going to bob up, and I think if you were my enemy I should slip my anchor and run." After manoeuvring around the fleet at anchor we took a run out in the channel. Captain Alexander Gadd, the officer who was to command the _Protector_, was in the sighting hood. Our periscope had gone "blind" because one of the crew did not make up a joint properly. Water had entered and dropped on the lower prism, which destroyed our ability to see. We were anxious, however, to continue our manoeuvres, and Captain Gadd had volunteered to "con" the vessel from the sighting hood and give us our steering directions. We were thus able to make submergences of short duration. In leaving the port we appeared to have a clear passageway down the channel. After running for a few minutes we brought the sighting hood above the surface, upon which Captain Gadd became very much excited and cried out in German--which I had no difficulty in understanding--that a big ship was coming right toward us. I was puzzled to know what to do, so I pulled the commander away from the sighting hood, got a look myself, and discovered a big white ship headed directly for us. The only thing to do under the circumstances was to blow the centre tank, give the signal to back up, and to blow our whistle, as there was hardly sufficient time to turn out of our course. Blowing the centre tank relieved us very quickly of sufficient water to bring the conning tower above the surface. Fortunately we were observed, and both vessels reversed and went full speed astern, thus preventing a collision which only could have been disastrous to us, because, as there was not sufficient depth of water in the channel to permit the large ship to pass over us, the small boat would have been crushed like an egg-shell. By looking at the chart I saw that we had sufficient water on either side of the main channel to carry on our work of instructing the crew, so I instructed the quartermaster, in English, to change his course. Captain Gadd, not understanding English, was not aware that I had changed the course, and I did not know that mines had been planted for the defense of Cronstadt and Admiral Rodjevensky's fleet, so the next time we came to the surface Captain Gadd once more became very much excited, finally making me understand that we were in a mine field. It seems that the Russians feared the Japanese might by hook or crook, during the night or at a time of fog, which at that time of the year occurred frequently, get hold of some vessel, equip her with torpedoes, and make a raid on the fleet at anchor. Consequently they had mined all except the principal channel, which could be watched. We immediately stopped the _Protector_, blew tanks, and proceeded with caution back to the main channel and returned to Cronstadt. I felt that we had had sufficient manoeuvres for that day at least.

Another experience which came very close to a tragedy was brought about by the spirit of mischief of one of the trial officers while conducting the official trials of the _Protector_ in the Gulf of Finland. One of the trial conditions set by the Russian Government was that we were to be able to run the _Protector_ under her engine with her decks submerged and conning tower awash, I standing in the open hatchway with the _Protector_ running under these conditions, ready for instant submergence, her conning tower being held above the surface by setting her hydroplanes up. By pulling the hatch cover down and inclining the hydroplanes downward the vessel could be almost instantly submerged--submergence not occupying over fifteen seconds. I had so much confidence in the safety of the _Protector_ running in this condition that I did not hesitate to leave the depth-control mechanism for considerable periods of time.

During this official trial in the Gulf of Finland we ran through a school of small fish, and, leaving the hydroplane control gear, I went out upon the deck of the conning tower and watched the fish, which could be plainly seen as the _Protector_ passed through them. At this time there was about three feet of water over the decks, and the deck of the conning tower was about a foot or eighteen inches out of the water. All at once the _Protector_ started to go down. I jumped down inside the conning tower, pulling the hatch after me, and I am free to confess that my hair stood on end. I then observed that the _Protector_ had gone back to her normal condition, and saw at the same time that the senior Russian officer, a very tall man who had to stand in a stooping position in the conning tower, was shaking with laughter. Captain Gadd then explained to me that the other officer--I shall not mention his name, because he is now a high admiral--had "set" the hydroplanes a little down for the purpose of seeing if he could frighten me. He frightened me all right, and I assure you that I never ran the _Protector_ afterward in that condition, because I came to the conclusion that, while it might be possible to make a submarine fool-proof, one could never make reasonable calculations which would eliminate danger from the actions of the practical joker. It was only a few weeks after this incident that I read the account of the A-8, one of the diving type of boats in the British Navy, making the fatal dive when running on the surface with the hatch open, even though she had, according to the testimony of the officer, who was standing on the top of the conning tower at the time she went down--and drowned her crew--as much as six or eight tons reserve of buoyancy.

Some of the early boats of the diving type were fitted with fixed periscopes through which one could see in one direction only, and that straight ahead, and with a limited field of vision. In order to get a complete view of the horizon it was therefore necessary for the commander of a vessel equipped in this way to turn the boat completely around. This was the cause of the first serious accident and loss of life in the British submarines of the A type. The A-1, running in the English Channel with her periscope extended above the surface, did not see a steamer following her at a speed exceeding her own; the lookout of the steamer did not see the periscope, and ran the A-1 down, drowning her entire crew. The foolishness of having a periscope that could see in one direction only was demonstrated by some of the officers in the Austrian Navy. Our company had built the first two boats for the Austrian Government, U-1 and U-2. Another type of boat had been built later which had only a fixed periscope of the type described. One day, when this submarine was running along with her periscope above the surface, which gave her commander no vision back of him, some officers approached in a speedy little launch and left their cards tied to the periscope without the knowledge of the commander of the submerged vessel. This demonstrated perfectly that it is essential, both in war and peace times, for the commander of the submarine to know what is going on in his vicinity on the surface. With the noise of machinery running it was difficult in the early boats for the commander to tell whether there was any other power boat in the vicinity of the submarine. That fact led to the practice of running mostly with the periscope above the surface, and eventually to the introduction of two periscopes, one to con the course of the ship and the other to keep watch of the surrounding water to see that other ships do not approach the submarine unawares. That is now the usual practice in peace-time manoeuvres.

At Hampton Roads, on one occasion, after a submarine run, we came up under a small launch and picked her up bodily on the deck. We had not seen the boat until we heard her bump against the conning tower and heard some of the ladies scream. We submerged quickly and lowered them into the water again. Another time we came up under a large barge, but all the damage incurred was a broken flagstaff. The best mode of procedure at such times is to bring the vessel to rest while submerged and stop all machinery, then listen for the sound of the machinery of surface vessels. These noises can be heard for a considerable distance under water. If no sound is heard it is then safe to come up. Even in this case there is some possibility of coming up under or just in front of a sailing vessel. One has to take some chances, and I do not consider this taking any greater chance than is taken by the navigator of a surface vessel in running in a fog or in a snow storm.

The question of air supply was at one time one of the most difficult problems to solve on paper with which early experimenters with submarines had to contend. There was no exception in my case. I thought it would be possible to remain submerged only a short time unless I provided some sort of apparatus to extract the carbonic acid gas and restore oxygen to the air after breathing and exhaling the air in an enclosed space like a submerged vessel. I took up the question with various physicians and with a professor of physiology at Johns Hopkins University, and, according to their information and text-books, it would be a very difficult matter to carry sufficient air to remain submerged without change of air except for a very short time. Their text-books stated the quantity of free air that should be allowed per individual. This varied from fifteen hundred to three thousand cubic feet of air per individual per hour. It would be impossible to provide this amount of air in a submarine. What it was essential to discover was _how little_ air a man could live on without suffering ill effects. I then built a box containing twenty-seven cubic feet of air space. I entered this and was hermetically sealed within it. At fifteen-minute intervals I lighted matches to note how freely they would burn. At the expiration of three-quarters of an hour the matches still burned brilliantly at the top of the box, but went out when lowered to about the level of my waist. This indicated that about one-half of the oxygen had been consumed and converted into carbonic acid gas. I was surprised to find how distinctly the line was drawn between the air containing oxygen and that containing the heavier carbonic acid gas. I concluded from this experiment that from fifteen to twenty cubic feet of air per individual per hour was sufficient to maintain life for short periods of time without injury.

On completing the _Argonaut_ in 1897 we amplified these experiments, five men remaining hermetically sealed in the _Argonaut_ for a period of five hours without admitting any air from our air storage tanks, and later on in the _Protector_ eight men remained submerged for twenty-four hours, no fresh air being admitted during the first twenty hours. As the volume of air space in the _Protector_ was about three thousand cubic feet, this averaged about eighteen cubic feet per man per hour. Without the definite knowledge of my previous box experiment it is very doubtful if the crew would have consented to remain submerged so long without renewing the air supply, so great is the effect of imagination.

In our first test to determine a practical time of submergence in 1897 we had been submerged for nearly two hours when I noticed some members of the crew showing signs of distress. After a time they got together in the after part of the boat and appointed a spokesman, who came to me and asked if I had not noticed that breathing had become very difficult. They urged that we should go up immediately. By this time two of the men were breathing with evident exertion, and beads of perspiration were on their faces. I told them they were suffering from imagination, and explained my experiment with the box. I then took a candle and proved to them that it burned freely in all parts of the boat. We measured the height of the candle flame at the floor of the boat and found it one and five-eighths inches high. In the twenty-four hours' test on the _Protector_ the men became frightened in the same way, but after an explanation had been made and the candle demonstration had been shown them they lost their fear and in a few minutes all were breathing as normally as ever.

I have always had some little sympathy for the sensations or fears which those without a knowledge of natural physics might experience on going down into the water; but I have had little sympathy for those who by their education should know and understand the principles of submarine navigation, when operating with a properly designed boat with an experienced crew.

Now, one of the features which the _Argonaut_ possessed, which was new in its application to submarine boats at that time, was the use of a diving compartment and air-lock connected with the main hull of the vessel, which would permit divers to leave the vessel when submerged by opening a door in the bottom of this diving compartment after first filling the compartment with compressed air corresponding to the pressure of the water outside of the vessel, which varies in accordance with the depth of submergence.

Every schoolboy is taught the principle of the diving bell, which can be illustrated by the use of a tumbler or glass. If a tumbler is turned upside down and forced into water, the water will not rise to fill the tumbler, owing to the fact that the air, being the lighter, will remain in the tumbler and the water will simply rise, compressing the air to the same pressure per square inch as the pressure surrounding it. Now if you push a tumbler down into the water a distance of thirty-four feet the tumbler would be about one-half full of water and one-half full of air, which corresponds to one atmosphere in pressure. Now if an additional tumbler full of air was compressed to the same pressure and released in that tumbler it would force the water out, and there would be a double volume, or two atmospheres of air, in the tumbler, or just twice what there would be on the surface and under normal atmospheric pressure. This is the principle on which the diving compartment in the Lake type boat operates, it being only necessary to admit air into the diving compartment until the pressure equals the outside water pressure; then a door opening outwardly from the bottom may be opened to permit ready egress or ingress, and so long as the air pressure is maintained no water will rise in the boat.

A professor of physics in the University of Pennsylvania visited the _Argonaut_ in Baltimore during some early experiments with her, and in discussing the features of the diving compartment with which, from his position as a professor of natural physics, he should have been entirely familiar, expressed some doubt as to its practicability. He said he understood the theory of it all right, but thought there might be some difficulty in carrying it out in a practical way as I had explained. I invited him into the diving compartment and told him that I would submerge the boat and open the door for him for his benefit, so that he could explain to his students that he had actually seen it done. He turned pale and said, "Oh, no; I would not put you to that trouble for the world"; but by that time I had the heavy iron door closed between the diving compartment and the main hull, and had already started to raise the pressure of the air in the compartment, and assured him that it was not the least trouble in the world; on the contrary, it was a great pleasure. By this time beads of perspiration were standing on his face. When one undergoes air pressure for the first time considerable pain is ofttimes experienced in the ears, due to the pressure on the Eustachian tubes and ear-drums not becoming equalized. To equalize this pressure it is necessary for divers or those undergoing pressure to go through the movement of swallowing, which has a tendency to relieve the unequal pressure and stop the pain. I noticed that the professor was experiencing quite a little pain and consequently told him to swallow, and it was really amusing to see the rapidity with which he worked his "Adam's apple" up and down. He then asked if there was any danger. I answered him that there was none, except to those who were troubled with heart-disease. He immediately put his hand up over his heart and said, "Well, my heart is quite seriously affected," but by that time we had secured the necessary pressure to enable me to open the diving door at the bottom, so I released the "locking dogs" and allowed the door to open, and when he saw the water did not come in, his face cleared and he said, "Well, you know I never would have believed it if I had not seen it," and then he added that he would not have missed seeing it for the world.

Another interesting incident in connection with undergoing pressure occurred while at Hampton Roads, Va. One day I received a visit from a professor of mathematics and his wife at the Hampton Institute, each of whom held a professorship in the college. They stated that the _Argonaut_ had been discussed before the faculty and that they would like very much to go down in her and see the diving door opened, which I was very glad to show them. Just previous to going into the diving compartment Professor S---- explained to me that his wife was deaf in one ear, that she had been under a physician's care for about two years, and he wanted to know if undergoing pressure was likely to have an injurious effect upon her. Not being a physician or knowing what might occur, I advised against her undergoing pressure; but she insisted on going into the compartment, promising that if she felt any ill effect from the air pressure she would tell me and I could let her out. I was reluctant to have her go in, and when we entered the compartment I allowed the air to come in very slowly, in the meantime giving a general description of the vessel, and occupying as long a time in the procedure as possible. I noticed almost at once that she was in pain. Although she turned her back to me, I could tell by her clenched jaws and hands that she was probably suffering agony. I then stopped the pressure and suggested to the professor that he had better let his wife go out, but through clenched teeth she still protested, "No, go ahead; I can stand it!" Finally we got the pressure on and opened the door, but, while the professor seemed delighted, his wife made no remark. She simply stood with her hands clenched and I was afraid she was going to faint. Then all at once she screamed; but immediately after her face lighted up with a smile and she exclaimed, "It is all gone!" When she came out of the compartment, after the experiment was over, I noticed her put her hand up to one ear, and she said to her husband, "Do you know, I can hear as plainly out of that ear as I ever could!" About a year afterward I saw Professor S---- and he told me that apparently the experiment had cured his wife of deafness where physicians had failed to help her; that to date it had never returned, and that she could hear as well as she had ever heard. In discussing this matter with an ear specialist some time afterward, he explained to me that the lady had probably been suffering with a disease which caused the small bones connected with the ear-drum to freeze fast, so that the ear-drum did not vibrate. He stated that it is a very common cause of deafness and can seldom be cured; that the bringing of the uneven pressure on the Eustachian tube or other parts had broken away the secretion which had cemented these small bones together and permitted the ear-drum to vibrate as it should, and probably that was the only way in which she could have been helped. I am publishing this incident in the hope that it may lead to the construction of scientific apparatus for the cure of deafness in cases where the deafness is caused by trouble similar to that of the professor's wife.

After our experiments with the _Argonaut_ in the Chesapeake Bay and on the Atlantic coast, she was enlarged and otherwise improved and in the winter of 1899 I brought her to Bridgeport, Connecticut, which offered excellent harbor conveniences and deep water, as well as providing the necessary manufacturing facilities for continuing my experimental work.

While there the request was made of me to let some of the newspaper people and some prominent men of the town witness her trials; I therefore invited them to take a trip out into the Sound. I remember that we extended in all twenty-eight invitations to the Mayor, to the press, and to some other prominent citizens, expecting that perhaps three or four of the number would accept. Very much to my surprise, twenty-nine appeared, and only one of those who had received the invitation failed to come, while two others brought their friends with them. Among the number was John J. Fisher, at that time quite a noted singer for the American Graphophone Company. I had planned to cook and serve a dinner for the party on board, and we intended to be back about two o'clock in the afternoon, but when we got out on the bottom of the Sound all the different members of the party wanted to see the bottom, so we travelled out over some oyster beds and clam beds and I opened the diving door and let the party all see the bottom of the Sound and pick up clams and "jingle" shells, in depths varying from twenty-four to thirty-odd feet, while running along the bottom. The air-lock was small and we could take only two at a time through it into the diving compartment. In the meantime a meal had been cooked for the others and served. Mr. Fisher amused the company by singing "Rocked in the Cradle of the Deep" and other songs appropriate to the occasion.

We did not arrive at Bridgeport until after four o'clock, and then found the wharf black with an excited populace, largely composed of friends of those who had taken the trip. Tugboats had been engaged, and the editor of one of the afternoon papers gave me a very severe "dressing down" for having kept the party out so long, as the whole city was excited and every one feared that we had been lost. The afternoon editions of the papers had all been held up awaiting our return, and the editor of the paper in question informed me that they were just telegraphing New York for a wrecking outfit to come and raise us, as they had sent a tugboat out and the captain had reported that we were submerged off Stratford Point Light and that our red flag, which extended from the top of the mast, was above water, but that we were not moving at that time and hence they thought that all hands must have perished.

Working under water from a submarine boat is very interesting work. The _Argonaut_ was built with the idea of demonstrating the practicability of conducting explorations under water, locating and recovering beds of shellfish, in addition to locating and recovering wrecks and their cargoes. This line of work is the most interesting of the submarine work in which I have been engaged, and offers, in my judgment, great opportunities for the benefit of the human race. A submarine boat is a rather expensive craft, however, for conducting such operations, and there are certain disadvantages in operating around wrecks in a submarine without any surface connections, as there is always a possibility of the vessel becoming entangled in the wreckage of the sunken ship. I remember in one case we had located a sunken wreck and had gone down alongside of her with the _Argonaut_. This sunken wreck had an overhanging guard and was quite strongly built. The tide carried the _Argonaut_ up against the side of the sunken wreck, and after our divers had come in and made their report in regard to her we attempted to come up to the surface, but the Argonaut could not come up, because the current had carried her in under the guard, and it was necessary for us to wait until the tide turned to enable us to get away from the obstruction.

At another time we were operating alongside of a wreck in which we were demonstrating the practicability of removing cargo from the sunken wreck to a small experimental cargo or freight-carrying submarine. This freight-carrying submarine was practically a tank, and was built purely for demonstrating purposes. It was nine feet in diameter and twenty-five feet long, with conical ends (see illustration, page 278). It had wheels underneath so that it could be towed on the bottom by the _Argonaut_. The _Argonaut_ had gone down alongside of a sunken wreck loaded with coal, with the freight submarine alongside opposite to the wreck. The _Argonaut_ had a centrifugal wrecking pump mounted on her deck, driven by a shaft extending through a stuffing box, and to fill the little cargo-carrying submarine it was necessary for the diver only to place the suction pipe connected with the wrecking pump into the sunken coal barge and the discharge pipe into the hatch of the cargo submarine, start the pump, and transfer the coal from the sunken wreck to the cargo-carrying submarine. We made several successful demonstrations of this, and actually transferred fifteen tons of coal from the sunken wreck to the cargo submarine with a six-inch pump in nine minutes. It was then necessary for the diver only to close the hatch of the freight-carrying submarine, admitting compressed air into the interior which blew the water out through check valves in the bottom of the freight submarine, and then the freight submarine would come to the surface with her cargo, which could be towed into port on the surface by surface tugboats. One day, when down on the bottom repeating this experiment, the diver came back into the diving compartment and said that he wanted the _Argonaut_ moved ahead about twenty feet. The divers, having become familiar with the operation at this time, were a little careless. There were three of us in the diving compartment at the time, and it was "up to me" to go back into the machinery compartment and move the boat forward twenty feet; we could tell the distance by the revolutions of her wheels over the bottom. I told them to close the bottom diving door, and when I left the diving compartment they were in the act of doing so. As I looked back through the lookout window in the air-lock door I saw that the diver had taken off his helmet and was smoking his pipe--this being the first thing a diver always wants to do when coming out of the water. I then started to move the boat, assuming that the diving door was closed, but the boat did not move. Having been at rest there for some time, I assumed that she had probably taken in through a leaky valve some additional water, and I decided that it was necessary to lighten her somewhat, so I called on the telephone and asked them if everything was all right in the diving compartment and they replied that it was. I then pumped and tried her again; still she did not move, so I pumped out a little more from the forward end of the boat for the purpose of lightening her burden some more. All at once she left the bottom with a rapid rush and ascended to the surface. There was something which held her down, I do not know what it was, but it was not released until we had given her a partial buoyancy of perhaps two or three tons. I submerged her again quickly and went back through the air-lock into the diving compartment and then observed that the diver was taking off his diving suit; he was pale and appeared to be very much excited. I asked his helper, who was laughing, what the matter was. To this question the diver himself replied, "I will tell you a funny story when we get ashore." The tender then explained to me that they had not closed the door entirely, but had left it open about four inches, and when the boat rose, the air, rushing out of the compartment with a noise like a thousand locomotive whistles, had scared Captain S---- half to death. The tender had been with me in the diving compartment once before when a similar accident occurred and consequently he was used to it. As soon as we got alongside of the dock the diver referred to jumped ashore and said, "The funny story I am going to tell you is this: I will never set foot in your d---- boat again."

Another amusing situation occurred on the _Argonaut_ which might have proved very serious. After we had completed our experiments with the _Argonaut_ and started to build the _Protector_, not having any immediate use for her, the _Argonaut_ was anchored in the river off the place where we were conducting our building operations. Our engineer, W----, received a visit one day from a friend of his who had visited Bridgeport on his wedding trip and had left his wife in the depot between trains while he ran up to see his old friend, our chief engineer. The chief took him out on board the _Argonaut_ to show him through, and in explaining the boat to him the two men went into the diving compartment. Now the Argonaut had been shut up for some months, but the chief found that there was still sufficient air in the air tanks to enable him to admit the air into the diving compartment and show his friend how the door could be opened. The door, which opened downward, was quite heavy, weighing something over four hundred pounds, and was raised by block and tackle. He got the air pressure on all right and opened the door; the boat was near the bottom, and when the door opened downward the lower end of it settled into the mud. In attempting to lift it again the rope, which had become rotten, due to dampness, broke, and consequently he could not lift the door. In the meantime the tide was falling and the diving door was forced farther into the mud. As no one at the works knew that the chief had gone on board the _Argonaut_, when night came everybody went home and it was not until eleven o'clock that night that the watchman went down to the end of the pier and heard some one tapping on the _Argonaut_. Thinking this somewhat strange, he got into a boat and rowed out alongside. He still heard the tapping at regular intervals, and was astonished to see a small boat alongside; then he struck the _Argonaut_ with his oar and immediately got a rapid tattoo in response. Feeling sure now that somebody in distress must be down in the _Argonaut_, he got a lantern, went down inside the boat and forward to the diving compartment. There, on the other side of the lookout window, he saw the face of the engineer. The chief had made the mistake of closing the forward air-lock door, so that when he got the pressure on in the diving compartment and the diving door open he could not close it again. There was no way for him to relieve the pressure and open the air-lock door without flooding the whole boat; while, had he closed the first or inner door he could have gone through into the air-lock, closing and securing the forward door behind him. He could then have released the air from the air-lock and escaped, in the meantime leaving the pressure on in the diver's compartment and the divers' door open. When the watchman appeared the chief wrote a note and put it up to the window, instructing the watchman to close the inner air-lock door. This was done, and then he and his friend got out. It was nearly midnight when they were released; and, feeling a natural curiosity in the circumstances, I asked the chief if his friend found his bride still waiting for him at the station. He replied that after they had managed to get out his visitor would not even speak to him, and that he had never heard from him since the occurrence.

I have described above how I ran grave risks while navigating in Russian waters, and it was in connection with the construction and delivery of these same boats for the Russian Government that I met with still other interesting experiences.

Built in Bridgeport, Connecticut, in 1901-1902. Sent to Vladivostock, Russia, during the Russian-Japanese war, and was the only Russian submarine in full commission during that war. She was the forerunner of the German U type of boat, with her large flat deck, light-weight watertight superstructure and hydroplane control.]