The Navigator by Clive Cussler, Paul Kemprecos Page B

semisubmersible rig is more of ship than a platform, used mostly for deep water. Four legs rest on pontoons that act as a hull. The platform is designed to be towed through the water, although some rigs can move on their own power. Once the rig is on a drilling site, the pontoons are flooded. Several massive anchors hold the rig in place.

    “How many workers are on the platform?” Austin asked.

    “It’s got accommodations for two hundred thirty.”

    “Will they have time to move out of harm’s way?”

    “They’re pulling anchors, and the service boats will start towing soon, but the rig is geared to move out of the path of slow-moving bergs that get past the ice patrol. They’re not built to dodge a runaway ship.”

    Austin wasn’t so sure of the captain’s use of the term
runaway,
which implied that the vessel was out of control. His own impression was that this ship was very
much
in control and that it was being aimed directly at the Great Northern rig.

    A sharp-eyed crewman pointed to the sea off the starboard bow. “I see her.”

    Austin borrowed the crewman’s binoculars and adjusted the focus knob until the profile of a containership came into view. He could make out the tall letters painted on the red hull that identified the ship as belonging to a company called Oceanus Lines. Painted in white letters on the ship’s great flaring bow was the name: OCEAN ADVENTURE.

     
     

    THE SHIPS moved abreast on a parallel course about a quarter of a mile apart. The
Eriksson
blinked its lights and blasted its horn to attract the ship’s attention. The
Adventure
plowed through the sea without slowing. The captain ordered the crew to keep trying to make contact visually or over the radio.

    The oil rig was coming into view. The platform squatted on the sea like a four-legged water bug. Its most prominent features were a towering oil derrick and a disk-shaped helicopter pad.

    “Does the rig have a chopper?” Austin asked the captain.

    “On its way back from making a hospital run. Too late to do an air evacuation, anyhow.”

    “I wasn’t thinking about evacuation. Maybe the chopper could put someone aboard the ship.”

    “There won’t be time. The best it will be able to do is pick up some survivors, if there are any.”

    Austin raised the glasses. “Don’t bring out the body bags just yet,” he said. “Maybe there’s still a chance to save the rig.”

    “
Impossible!
The platform will sink like a stone when the ship slams into it.”

    “Take a look around midships,” Austin said. “Tell me what you see.”

    The captain peered through the lenses. “There’s a gangway hanging down almost to the waterline.”

    Austin outlined his plan.

    “That’s crazy, Kurt. Too dangerous. You and Joe could be killed.”

    Austin gave Dawe a tight smile. “No offense, Captain, but if your Newfie jokes didn’t kill us,
nothing
will.”

    The captain gazed at Austin’s determined face and his expression of utmost confidence. If anyone could pull off the impossible, it would be this American and his friend.

    “All right,” Dawe said. “I’ll give you everything you need.”

    Austin slipped into his foul weather jacket, yanked up the zipper, and headed down to the deck to fill Zavala in. Zavala knew his friend well enough not to be surprised at the audacity or the risk of Austin’s idea.

    “Pretty simple scheme when you think about it,” Zavala said. “The odds aren’t the greatest.”

    “Slightly better than a snowball’s chance in hell by my reckoning.”

    “Can’t get much better than that. The execution could be a little tricky.”

    A pained expression came to Austin’s rugged face. “I’d prefer it if we didn’t use the word
execution.
”

    “An unfortunate slip of the tongue. What does Captain Dawe think of your idea?”

    “He thinks we’d be crazy.”

    Zavala fixed his eyes on the massive containership plowing through the gray seas on a parallel course and his agile