“Papa, Wally Hunt at the Cape. How long can you hold your breath under water? Call me back when you get my message. It’s urgent.” That was the message I received when I got back from my daily surf at the beach, and found my cell where I had left it on the kitchen countertop. As soon as I got the message I returned the call. “Hello Wally, it’s Papa. Your message sounded important. What’s going on at the Cape?” “It’s not the Cape Papa; it’s what’s going on in the world. I guess you haven’t heard? North Korea launched a long range ICBM, a Taepodong-3 towards California about two hours ago. It was intercepted by a surface to air missile fired from the USS Port Royal (CG 73) fifteen minutes into flight. The rocket and its payload dropped into the Pacific Ocean somewhere southeast of the Marianas Islands. We need you at the Cape as soon as you can get here.” I put the cell in my pocket without even saying goodbye. Wally would know I was on my way. I sped by the security gate and straight to Building 1. Wally and his staff were gathered and I was briefed.
“Commander Pennebaker, the President of the United States has asked you to do your country a great favor. The President knows you are retired, and that you are only one of a handful of people in the world who can navigate the United States Navy bathyscaphe, Alvin-2, to the bottom of the ocean in search of the Korean missile that was intercepted today. Your knowledge of the Alvin-2 would be invaluable in a search and recovery mission of the Taepodong-3 if you will accept the challenge.” Alvin-2, I thought to myself? Why the Alvin-2? It’s only function is to dive to depths unattainable by any other form of submersible. “Wally, are you telling me that the Korean missile is in the Marianas Trench?” “Yes, I’m afraid that’s correct Papa. Our sounding instruments have placed it in a crater of the Marianas Trench. Not only that, it’s in the deepest recesses of the trench. It’s at the bottom of Challenger Deep.” I knew the Challenger Deep. It is thirty six thousand feet below sea level…the deepest surveyed point in the ocean. Pressures there are over one thousand times greater than at sea level. I had worked in the development of the Alvin-2 at Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution before entering the space program in the late 1970’s. That is precisely why I was summoned.
I knew all about the quirkiness of the submersible, the groaning sounds it makes when it drops below twenty thousand feet, its functional capabilities, and the danger of a mishap. “OK, Wally, but why retrieve the missile? “Papa, U.S. satellite images and CIA intelligence indicates the North had transported its most advanced long-range missile to the new Dongchang-ni facility near China. Those same satellite images show the North fitted the ICBM with a questionable nuclear payload. We think the intent of the North Korean government was to start a nuclear war with the United States. The trajectory of the missile would have had it landing somewhere just east of San Francisco. Our Navy intercepted it before it slammed into the bay area of California. If that had occurred, hundreds of thousands of innocent people would have died. Of course North Korea is denying it was a nuclear payload. It is imperative that our government retrieve the missile and its nuclear payload intact before the Koreans and their Chinese allies do. Are you clear?” “I’m as clear as the waters off of Cocoa Beach Wally. Count me in.”
With no time to waste I found myself suited up and being escorted to the runway where the Lapin Blanc was waiting for me to climb aboard. Oh yeah…the Lapin Blanc; that sweet little lady with the twin Kretchmar turbo boosters. I would find myself at Andersen Air Force Base in Guam within half an hour. This was going to be a wickedly cool ride.
Three, two, one…blastoff. The familiar five G’s of crush…being pushed back into the form fitting leather seat of the Lapin, then the familiar blue to black of space and the stars in the heads up display were so déjà vu as I had just done this same type liftoff only three weeks prior on a search and rescue trip to the Van Allen Belt to assist in bringing home Sam. Sam…I wonder how she is and what NASA has her doing now? She’s probably getting a little rest and relaxation after that near disaster in space. She would be jealous as hell if she knew I was behind the throttle of this magnificent machine. I could still feel her in the seat sitting next to me. Her scent, her amber color still lingering in the confines of the Lapin’s cockpit. Just as soon as those thoughts began to fade I started my descent. I could see the entire island of Guam come into view with its runways approaching at two thousand miles per hour. Then the sound of the air traffic control came through, “Commander, welcome to Guam. You are clear for runway seven. A CH-47 Chinook is waiting to take you out to the USS Port Royal.” The screech of the Lapin’s tires upon the hot asphalt runway brought me back to reality. I suddenly wished I was back in the seat as a fighter pilot. I kissed the Lapin goodbye and boarded the Chinook for a fifteen minute flight out to the deck of the Port Royal which was on station. The US Survey Ship Kilo Moana was also standing by carrying with it the bathyscaphe Alvin-2. The Chinook set me down upon the fantail of the USS Port Royal, and from there I was escorted to the ready room where the Captain and his officers were anxious to brief me on the operation.
“Commander Pennebaker, you’ll be guided by radio and sonar transmission to the Taepodong-3 from the communication station on board the Kilo Moana. Your communications officer will be one of your NASA counterparts. I believe you know Lieutenant Sam Abjelina?” My mind went numb. Could it have been the quick flight over in the Lapin, maybe pulling too many G’s in such a short period of time? No…it’s Sam. That’s what it was. Her name coming up again and again in my life, it was more than kismet I thought, it was destined to be.
“Yes sir Skipper, I know Lieutenant Abjelina well. We go way back, all the way back to her college days at UC Berkeley. I would be honored to have her navigate me down to the Challenger Deep and back.” With that Sam entered the ready room and we gave each other that ‘keep the rabbit going’ smile. 'KTRG', short for 'keep the rabbit going'. It's a phrase I used with Sam when I was her flight instructor at NASA. I used it to push her past what she thought she could handle, and it worked. As the Skipper stood to exit the room, the junior officer attending shouted “Attention on deck.” Everyone sharply stood at attention as the Skipper exited. As the door to the room closed, I gave Sam a hug and then I was quickly escorted to the Alvin-2 to prepare for my dive to the Challenger Deep.
Suiting up for a dive in the Alvin was much different that readying for a space flight. At NASA it took at least one hour to put on a space suit, check for air compromise, and go through all the system checks of the suit itself. Suiting up for a deep dive was a matter of slipping into a one piece body suit. A suit made of lightweight gortex that zipped up the front. So lightweight in fact that it felt as though you were wearing nothing. Simple, functional, heat conserving; it reminded me of my body suit that I used for surfing the waters off of Cocoa Beach.
As I climbed into the Alvin and re-familiarized myself with its instrumentation and robotic arm, I got my first sound test from my navigator who was on board the Kilo Moana.
“Papa, it’s Sam. Are you ready to get this done?” Her words settled my uneasiness. If there was anyone that I would have chosen for this job, it would be her. She was smart, and tough as nails. I don’t know where she got her toughness from, but I’m guessing she had something happen in her younger years that developed that toughness. I never asked, but someday if she wants to tell me I would be there for her to listen. I owe her that. I wonder what she would think if she knew about the tattoo? “I’m ready Sam, let’s begin the descent.”
Thirty six thousand feet to go I thought as the Alvin was lowered into the water by the massive steel crane and steel cable that was my lifeline to the research ship Kilo Moana.
The tether cable’s rate of ascent and descent is approximately 10 miles per hour. That meant in 42 minutes the Alvin would be on the bottom of the ocean, a depth of thirty six thousand feet. Hopefully Sam will guide me right on top of the Taepodong-3. From there I would simply connect a retrieval cable to the missile with the help of the Alvin’s robotic arm and then the missile and its payload would be raised from the Challenger Deep.
“Papa, you are at one thousand feet and descending. Give me a systems check please.” "All systems are functioning properly Sam. Depth indicator checks at one thousand feet, submersible lighting system is turning on now.” As the submersible dropped silently deeper still, I could make out the faint groans of the metal plates compressing against each other as the atmospheric pressure of the ocean began to crush against Alvin’s steel hull. “Papa, ten thousand feet.” “Roger, Sam, ten thousand feet and all systems go for search and retrieval.” The surrounding environment was pitch black outside the range of the submersible’s lighting system. Occasionally a squid or small strange looking fish would come up to peer at the Alvin. I’m sure they thought I was just as curious looking as I thought they were.
“Papa you are at twenty thousand feet and descending. How is everything aboard?” “All systems are go Sam.” Then it happened. A loud groan from the Alvin, and then a deafening BANG! “Sam, come in Sam. Did you get that on your end? Did you hear that Bang?” “Papa, what happened? Yes, I heard it, as did almost everyone in the communications room. Are you OK?” Surveying the Alvin quickly for damage I could immediately see what caused the sound. “Sam, the glass porthole to the starboard side has cracked. No water intrusion, just a linear crack from top to bottom” “Papa, I don’t know if the mission needs to be aborted. Let me consult with the Skipper. I’ll be back to you within the minute. Papa, the mission is a go, but if you begin getting water intrusion into the cabin, the mission will be scrubbed and the Alvin will be raised. Do you copy?” “Roger that Sam. I’m all in. We only have twenty more minutes until we reach the floor. Let’s roll.”
Within fifteen minutes I was twenty feet off the lowest point on earth. Sam had guided me safely to within feet of the missile. The Alvin’s submersible lighting system illuminated the floor of the trench, and I was right on top of the Taepodong-3 and its payload. “Sam, good work girl…you put the Alvin smack square on target. Don’t let me forget to take you to dinner in Manila when I get back.” I heard Sam laugh from almost seven miles above me. For me that was worth the whole mission, even better than getting back into the Lapin’s saddle. That laugh was my reward.
“OK, let’s get down to business. USS Port Royal, this is Commander Papa K. Pennebaker. Robotic arm deployed and retrieval cable connected to payload and missile. Navy research ship Kilo Moana, you are go to retrieve, I repeat you are go to retrieve and begin the ascent of the Alvin-2.” “Roger that Commander Pennebaker, initiating ascent of the Alvin. We’ll see you on board the Kilo Moana in forty one minutes.” “I’m coming home Sam, hope to see you on deck when I return.” “I wouldn’t miss it for the world Papa, see you there.”
As the Alvin started slowly surfacing my ears were glued to the headphones, my connection to Sam, and my depth status. “Papa you are at twenty thousand feet and all is go. Please give me a status check.” Roger that Sam. System check good, wait….Sam, I see a tiny stream of water intrusion from the porthole crack. Looks like it’s a slow deliberate stream, nothing to worry about, but get me out of here as soon as possible. I don’t like the looks of it.” “Papa, I’ll keep constant communication with you for the remainder of the ascent. Let me know if anything unusual happens. You are within fifteen minutes of surfacing. “OK Sam, I’ll keep you on constant audio.” The next ten thousand feet was uneventful, Sam and I remained silent throughout those minutes then came Sam’s voice though the headphones. “Papa you are at ten thousand feet and ascending, please give me a status check, over.” A little more than ten minutes and I’ll be home I thought, and then the water began to pour in through the cracked porthole. “Sam! Sam! I’m in trouble, I don’t know if I’ll make it out of this one. Water coming in fast. Up to my knees…I can’t stop the water…Sam.” “Papa! Hold on! We’ll have you out of there in ten minutes. I know you can do it! Remember how you used to tell us when you were our instructor back at NASA that you could hold your breath for a full five minutes? Papa, I promise to get you out of this…I promise!”
“Engineering, crank up the retrieval. We need to get Papa to the surface. Dammit engineering, just do it!” The last words I said to Sam before the water entered my lungs were…..KTRG.”
The Alvin-2 surfaced seven minutes later, Alvin's cabin was filled with sea water, and I was strapped into the submersible's seat. I thought how strange it was that I was hovering above my body watching as the safety crew of the Kilo Moana unharnessed me from my chair and brought my body out and laid it on the deck. I could see Sam standing over me being very stoic, yet I knew she would cry later. I could see the ship’s medical officer unzip my body suit and expose my chest. That’s when Sam saw my tattoo. It read ~ELVIS IS KING~SAM IS MY HERO~ I wish she hadn’t seen it under these circumstances. I honestly had plans to show it to her someday. I got 'inked' right after the rescue three weeks ago. It was surprising to me that I could be embarrassed and dead all at the same time. This was really all a rather peaceful state I was in until the medic put the paddles to my chest and BAM! Hey, now that hurt! Then BAM! I heard him say “Stand back”, then BAM! Another jolt of electricity coursed through my body. Then simultaneously I heard Sam's dear departed Grandmother Natividad say, "Go back, you are not ready", and the medic shout "I have a pulse. Get Papa to medical ASAP!”
I awoke the following morning, back in my aging body with Sam standing over me crying. “Hello Gorgeous”, I said. “Welcome back Papa”, came her reply. “So are we still on for that dinner in Manila Papa? Well as soon as I get this IV out of my arm Lieutenant.” "Papa, I would have missed you badly. Thanks for keeping the date, I might even introduce you to family if you want to meet them.” "I'm up for about anything Sam, even family."
One week later, the DPRK was forced back to the six party non nuclear proliferation talks. Indeed they had armed the Taepodong-3 with a 20 megaton uranium warhead. The retrieval proved beyond dispute that their government was corrupt. The Chinese government was forced to make an international apology for their part in the denial of the missile launch and its payload. The UN sanctioned a formal censorship of both countries, and the rest of the world, well they knew the real truth.
As for me, I had a great meal with my friend on the beautiful Island home of two great women. A new national hero, Navy Lieutenant Sam Abjelina, and my new guardian angel Natividad Bartolome.
If you need me, just leave a message. I’ll be holding my breath in anticipation that it’s Sam.
Rebirth
The placental waters of the Pacific filled my lungs. Maternally cushioning, drowning me inside the confines of my uterine tomb...and I have returned to an embryo awaiting a rebirth and a new life reincarnate from 360 joules of electricity passing through my chest.
My name is Maria Marisol Fuentes. I am fifteen years old, well almost. I'll be fifteen next month. My home is New York City, El Barrio. You may know it best as Spanish Harlem. If you haven't already guessed, I'm Puerto Rican. This is my story.
