I clung to the deck of the ironclad, as it grudgingly lifted up through the water. I was in grave need of air to feed my oxygen deprived lungs, but I wasn't about to attempt what the whale divers had done.
They'd done that drown a little bit at a time thing until they breathed the oxygenated water of the lagoon as if it was air. No thanks! That was for the birds in my opinion.
The ironclad crowned out of the water reborn after a hundred and fifty years below. Water sheeted off everywhere and I gasped for air for a few brief moments before making my way below decks for the open scuttle cocks near the rudder even as Jim went for the one at the forward prow.
It was dark, but I knew what to feel for. Soon I had the job accomplished and I made my way back up out of the water below decks to suck down more air topside. In my absence Matt and his crew had climbed on board.
Matt was already directing how the manual bilge pumps worked that would free the boat of the remaining water even as more helpers went below and started bailing water out open gun ports. The whales with their tusks to the sky had risen out of the water as far as they could go.
The whales let off and sank downward, but the ironclad though heavy laden with water stayed afloat. A cheer went up all around and I began to be the recipient of many exuberant backslaps.
The good mood was infectious and I returned some equally exuberant backslaps of my own.
Gaining control of myself I called out an end to the celebration, "All right, that's enough for now. We've got another ship to raise."
The second ship went much easier and quicker as it was half the length and less in diameter than the first ship had been. I was back on the first ironclad that was now free of water.
I was standing in the boiler room with Ortega and Flynn. The expression on Ortega's face was comical as he stared about the foreign environment with a sort of dread filled curiosity.
I slapped him on the back good naturedly and said, "Well I'm sure that with enough tinkering around you'll find out how it all works Ortega. Everything depends on you getting this working Ortega so don't let me down."
I left the room grinning at the dead eyed look he'd given me in response to my last comment.
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Ortega turned back to the boiler, his brow furrowed in concentration, as he tried to put a foreign language of parts into a readable context he could understand.