“We’re getting pinged, skipper,” reported Arv, who was manning the hydrophones. “They must have sonar buoys planted. The pulses are coming from more than one direction.”
Tom was unworried by this, knowing that the Sea Hound’s special sheathing made it undetect-able by sonar. The seacopter continued its cautious approach to the little island.
Gradually the islet’s formation became visible. It seemed to be crescent-shaped, enclosing a small inner bay or lagoon. On the upward sloping bottom inside the harbor, Tom and his companions could make out a ship’s hulk. The Rockwell! The enemy submarine was lying close alongside. Moving lights indicated skin divers at work.
“Let’s hope they don’t spot us and fire another torpedo!” a crewman muttered nervously.
DANGER TRAIL 169
‘Don’t worry. We’ll play it safe and wait for the Navy to get here,” Tom replied.
“But first I want to get a look at that installation just outside the harbor entrance.”
He was referring to a huge circular metal device planted on the sea floor. It appeared to have blades or vanes. Tom eased the Sea Hound closer for a better view.
Suddenly the device began to revolve. Alarmed, Tom hastily reversed the steering jets to back off. Too late I The blades were churning up a powerful current. Before Tom and his men could brace themselves, they were flung to one side of the cabin as the seacopter was sucked helplessly into the whirlpooll CHAPTER XX
TRAPPED BELOW
DAZED and battered, the seacopter crew struggled to find a handhold and regain their feet. The whole ship resounded with the din of the maelstrom.
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