Up From the Depths by J. R. Jackson Read Free Book Online

around New Orleans to render assistance if needed while her sister ship, Farragut , was engaged in replenishment at the port. He hated to have to rely on the Coasties but New Orleans was not in prime structural shape.
    Marines from the MEU boarded the tilt rotor as the engines spun up. In just a few minutes, the three aircraft were airborne, circled the ship once, then headed off to intercept the unknown contact. While the ship was well outside their operational range, it was imperative they determine what type of ship this was. No one wanted a supertanker running aground just a few miles from Winthrop nor did they want some freighter doing the same and dumping its load all over the coastline. But, if it was a supply ship of some kind, they would tag it as possible salvage. So far, the list of the vessels that they had recorded included four RO-RO ships that were car carriers from Asia, ten cargo vessels with CONEX containers stacked high on their decks, six log carriers, and fourteen freighters of varying size and tonnage with unknown cargo.
    “Let Hampton know we’re launching on a contact,” Greerson said as he continued his sweep.
    “Aye sir.”
    Greerson focused on the smaller Coast Guard vessel, he watched the vessel as it expanded its patrol circuit.
    “Ops, keep me posted on that contact,” Greerson ordered.
    “Aye, sir.”
    Greerson lowered the binoculars then picked up the commo handset and dialed Engineering.
    “ChEng, how’s it look?” he asked, using the abbreviation for the ship’s Chief Engineer.
    “Not good, Captain. We’re still taking on water but it looks like the major welds are holding. For now,” New Orleans Chief Engineer said. “If we hit rough water or need to make a speed run, I can’t guarantee they’ll hold for long. We’ve already burned out a couple of the pumps just trying to keep ahead of the incoming water.”
    “I hear you, ChEng.”
    “Sir, I’ve said this before; we need some serious time in dry dock and a full team of ship builders and structural engineers.” He didn’t add that even with that type of skill base and experience, there was a very good chance that the ship would be decommissioned and scrapped due to the level of damage. He had seen the ultrasounds taken of the hull and it was latticed with fine cracks. He was amazed that the keel had held up as long as it had.
    “If wishes were horses,” Greerson said.
    “Copy that, Captain. I’ll do what I can down here, sir, but it’s only a matter of time before we run out of duct tape and baling wire.”
    Greerson hung up the handset. He knew as well as the Chief Engineer that New Orleans would never be the ship she once was. Too much stress on the bulkheads and keel from the Anacortes attack had taken its toll on the structural integrity of the ship. Time was not in their favor. Winter was upon them and that heralded storms along the coast. It was time to head back and secure for the winter. That would give them months to continue what repairs they had the capability for and come spring, maybe be in better shape.
    “Helmsman, bring us about, we’re going home,” Greerson ordered. “All ahead one-third.”
    “One-third, aye.”
    Greerson knew that his aircraft had the endurance to make it back to Winthrop. Moving New Orleans back to her berth wasn’t an issue. He was sure she would stay afloat long enough to get them home.
     
    ***

Onboard the MV-22, Captain Frank Burgess, United States Marine Corps, Port Winthrop Marine Security Detachment, crouched by the open rear ramp and watched the ocean pass beneath him. He had lost count of all the times he and his men had launched to determine what a ship was. Most of the missions were flybys to see if there was any living crew left onboard. So far, they hadn’t done any ship clearing. They had only tagged the vessels with a transponder and monitored where they went or where they were floating. This ship, whatever it was, wasn’t going to get that same