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SEA OF SHADOWS 85
watch responsibilities. “Sub Lieutenant Lavelle, punctual as always. I am
ready to be relieved, sir.”
Kensington turned up the brightness on the radar repeater to show
Lavelle that the surface picture was empty of contacts with the exception
of their escorting frigate, the HMS Chatham. He was about to crank the
knob back down when he caught a tiny flash on the yellow phosphorous
screen. “Hello,” he said. “What have we here?”
He spent a few seconds adjusting the controls on the faceplate of the
repeater, trying to refine the tiny radar contact.
Sub Lieutenant Lavelle yawned loudly. “Probably a bit of sea return.
Just finish your turnover. I’ll have a look at it later.”
“It’s not sea return,” Kensington said softly. “It’s small but consistent,
and it’s tracking west-to-east. Right toward us.” He cleared his throat and
spoke louder. “Lieutenant Bryce, could you come look at this? I think I’m
getting a radar return from a periscope.”
“Get on with your periscopes,” Bryce said. “Turn over the watch and
go to bed. Then you can dream of Jerry subs all you want.”
Kensington stared at the radar screen. He made his voice as serious as
possible. “First Officer of the Watch, I am officially requesting that you
evaluate this radar contact.”
“Listen to you,” said Bryce with a laugh. “Go to bed, you silly bastard!
There are no submarines out there. I give you my word as a British
officer.”
In a fluke of timing more suited to a situation comedy than to the
bridge of a warship at sea, a short burst of static punctuated his last
sentence. It was followed immediately by the voice of the ship’s
Operations Room Officer, coming from an overhead speaker. “Bridge—
Operations Room. The sonar boys are tracking an active contact at
bearing two-nine-zero, range of about six thousand meters. They’re
requesting a bearing check. My radar shows a flicker of something at that
bearing and range. Request you do a visual sweep for surface contacts at
that position.”
Kensington swung his binoculars to the appropriate area. “I’ve got
nothing,” he said.
Sub Lieutenant Lavelle keyed a comm box near the radar repeater.
“Operations Room—Bridge. We have negative surface contacts. Bearing
and range are clear.” He released the button. “Think it’s a submarine?” he
asked softly.
“Probably a fishing boat,” Lieutenant Bryce said immediately.
“Wooden hulls don’t give much of a radar return, especially if they’re
small.”