Lee entered the aft hatch of the Control Room, glancing at all of the duty stations as he ambled forward to the Chart Table where Chip was standing. All was quiet in the Conn; Seaview was still over 24 hours from her home base of Santa Barbara, California after a rather boring (for the crew) charting mission along the Aleutian Island chain extending west from Alaska. Everyone was looking forward to having a couple of weeks’ leave time before they had to get the boat ready to go out again.
As he stopped next to his XO, Chip sent him something of a pained expression. “Please tell me that what just happened didn’t actually happen,” came out somewhat beggingly.
Lee grimaced. “Sorry,” he apologized.
“Does the Admiral know?”
“Considering that the fire alarm got pulled…” Lee sighed heavily. “I didn’t actually see him,” he admitted.
Chip shook his head. “Any idea where Chief Sharkey ended up?”
“Hiding!” Lee told him emphatically.
Chip grinned – almost. “Considering he’s got both Cookie and the Admiral out for his head…” Both men cringed.
Everything had been going just grand until an hour ago. The charting mission had been a piece of cake. The new earthquake sensors that Admiral Nelson had developed to handle the extra workload of tremors that could all too easily pop up along the Aleutians were proving well up to the challenge; so much so that NOAA had sent a message of commendation to the Admiral for his extra efforts in helping the agency try to predict earthquakes and tsunamis along what was referred to as the ‘Ring of Fire’, a band of faults and underground volcanoes that rimmed the Pacific Ocean. Nelson had been modest at the praise, but all the crew knew that he was extremely pleased. Lee had wanted to find a special way to celebrate and, with a little help from a couple of his crew, had managed to acquire several large Alaskan King crabs which Cookie had been preparing for dinner that evening in the Officers’ Wardroom.
That’s when everything went a little…haywire. Cookie had pulled out all the stops. He and his assistant, Higgins, had spent all afternoon baking fresh whole-wheat rolls as well as a big pan of apple crisp. They’d also fixed twice-baked potatoes with cheese, bacon, onions, and finely chopped and cooked broccoli, cauliflower, and carrots. Cookie raided the special stock of wines he was allowed to stow on board for special occasions, bringing two bottles for the officers’ meal and one to prepare a special sauce for the crabmeat.
Unfortunately, COB Francis Sharkey wasn’t up on Cookie’s culinary techniques. He was just walking past the Galley when Cookie flamed the wine, burning off the alcohol which concentrated the flavor and helped thicken the sauce. All Sharkey saw was fire. And fire was a submariner’s worst nightmare! The COB didn’t hesitate; he pulled the fire alarm right outside the Galley door, grabbed the extinguisher located there as well, and before either Cookie or Higgins could stop him he blasted the burning pan until all signs of flames – as well as the platter of crab parts on the counter next to the stove – were nothing more than a huge pile of white powder.
“Any idea what we’re having for dinner?” Chip asked.
“I don’t know about you,” Lee responded with another sigh, “but I’ve got protein bars and some trail mix stashed in the backpack in my cabin.”
“I think I’ve got some fruit leather and a can of cashews. Want to pool resources?”
“Sounds a whole lot better than going anywhere near the Wardroom.” Both men shuddered, and concentrated on getting their boat home.