A slight cant forward could now be felt in the boat as the tanks filled and she settled down in the water. ‘How is she, coxswain?’ asked Raymond with his eye still at the periscope. ‘Three degrees by the head, sir.’ ‘Right. Flood 3.’ ‘Open No. 3 Kingston and No. 3 main vent. Close 1 and 4 vents!’ cried Seagrave. ‘Vents closed, sir,’ came the reports. ‘2 full, sir,’ said Hoskins. A pause, and then ‘3 full, sir,’ he added. ‘How is she now, coxswain?’ asked the captain again. ‘Two degrees by the stern, sir.’ ‘Thank you. Close main vents. Another 500 in the fore trim, Seagrave.’ ‘Ay, ay, sir; 500 in the fore-trim,’ repeated the ‘Sub.’ ‘Horizontal, sir,’ from the coxswain. The needle of the depth-gauge trembled, moved slowly, reached four feet and stopped. ‘Four feet,’ announced Seagrave. ‘That’ll do,’ replied Raymond. ‘10,000 in the auxiliary and flood the buoyancy.’ The depth-needle shivered and crept on to ‘fifteen.’ ‘How is she?’ asked the captain again. ‘Horizontal, sir, fifteen feet,’ replied the coxswain. ‘Start the motors. Full fields,’ ordered Raymond. ‘Thirty feet. Take her down.’ The two coxswains spun their wheels forward with eyes glued on the depth-gauge. The needle moved slowly on. Twenty, twenty-five, twenty-seven feet, it recorded. They were whirling their wheels aft now to check her from going too deep. Thirty feet, thirty-two, thirty-four the metre registered, and then slowly the needle swung back a little and stopped. ‘Thirty feet, sir,’ said the coxswain. ‘Right. Crack the vents and let me know if she gets heavy,’ replied the captain, lowering the periscope. ‘Finished diving stations.’ ‘Everybody works in our boat But the L.T.O.’ floated forward again. Raymond smiled as he watched the men leaving their posts. A humorist in a boat is worth his weight in gold. The crew dispersed about their various jobs, some to continue their watch in the engine-room or at the wheels, while the watch below turned in their hammocks or stretched out on deck, leaving a courteous gangway to the curtained-off space, anywhere they could find room for a blanket and pillow. The second coxswain set the diving rudders, spat on his hands, bit off a chunk of tobacco, and retired aft. She would do now, and the coxswain alone could keep her at her depth with the hydroplanes, the great horizontal rudders at the fore-end of the boat that steered her up or down in the same manner as an ordinary vertical rudder steers a surface ship to left or right. Raymond spent a few minutes satisfying himself that all was well and the helmsman on his course, and then stepped through into the fore-compartment and looked at the chart.