Mutiny: The True Events That Inspired The Hunt for Red October

“Yes, sir,” the duty officer says unhappily. Like a lot of other people this morning, he is caught between a rock and a hard place and he knows it.

“Now, move it, Lieutenant,” Gorshkov says, and he slams down the telephone.

Markin appears at the door. “Will we be dressing in full uniform or civilian attire with medals this morning, sir?”

“A civilian suit. No medals.”

42. THE BRIDGE

A light northwest wind is blowing from the open gulf as the Storozhevoy passes the last sea buoy marking the river channel. The fog, which had cleared for a little while, thickens again. Stepping out onto the starboard wing, Sablin can look straight up and see stars, but dead ahead the ship’s bows are only avague outline.

Continuing at this speed out into the gulf blind is tantamount to suicide. It’ll be dawn in a few hours, but in the meantime if the Storozhevoy, with his sharply flaring, heavily armored bows, collides with another ship, there will be injuries and deaths. That is a certain fact.

Sablin’s original plan was to sail out almost due west until they cleared Saaremaa and Hiiumaa islands before shaping a course north and than back east to the narrow opening into the Gulf of Finland and from there continuing the four hundred kilometers to Leningrad, where he would broadcast his tape-recorded speech directly to the Soviet people.

But Firsov has jumped ship and has undoubtedly told the Riga harbormaster about the mutiny. The word will have reached Moscow by now and it will not be long until someone comes after them.

Sablin takes another look up at the stars, then steps back into the enclosed bridge. The two men look up, trying to gauge from the expression on his face how things are going. But he’s holding himself in check, making sure he does not show his uncertainity to his men.

“Has anyone tried to contact us by radio?”

Their navigation radar is still off, so Seaman Maksimenko has nothing to do except study the paper charts and listen for radio messages. He shakes his head. “Nothing, sir.”

“If they try to contact us, don’t answer. No matter what is said, don’t answer.”

Maksimenko and Petty Officer Soloviev are alarmed.

“Are you leaving us?” Maksimenko asks.

“Just for a minute or two,” Sablin says. “I need to get something from my cabin. If anything comes up, page me on the 1MC.”

“But, Captain, we are sailing blind,” Soloviev says from the helm. “We passed the last sea buoy, and now I am running only on the compass and the fathometer.”

The only two pieces of information that the helmsman can rely on at this point are the compass, which shows him that they are heading just slightly west of north, and the fathometer, which shows the depth of the water and that will warn them if they get too close to land. Before they can make their turn to the west to get past Saaremaa Island they must reach Kolkasrags, which is the Latvian headland at the northwesternmost point of the Gulf of Riga. It’s more than two hundred kilometers away. It will take another six or seven hours before they get there.

Sablin is thinking at the speed of light. They have passed their first two serious hurdles, taking over the ship and making it downriver to the gulf. They can do this if no one loses his head.

“You may turn on the radar set every fifteen minutes, but only long enough to make sure we’re not on a collision course with any other ship.”

Soloviev is relieved. “Thank you, sir.”

If anyone is looking for them, the moment their radar starts emitting, the game will be up. Sablin just needs his luck to hold a little while longer.

“And don’t aswer the radio, no matter who it is,” he warns.

Soloviev and Maksimenko nod their agreement, and Sablin leaves the bridge and hurries down to his cabin.

A potentially very large problem they might encounter is uncertainty about their intentions. In order to clear the islands, so that they can make the turn into the Gulf of Finland toward Leningrad, they have to sail directly toward Sweden. If a recon aircraft is sent up to find them or if they are tracked by their radar emissions, it will appear to Baltic Fleet Command that the Storozhevoy is trying to defect.

Such an act is even worse than mutiny. It is treason.

The only way that Sablin can think to prove that he is not planning on sailing to Sweden is to broadcast his message right now. Because of the damage Firsov has done to Sablin’s plan, he can no longer afford to wait until the Storozhevoy reaches Leningrad.

All of the crew not under arrest are at their posts. Sablin has called boevaya trevoga, battle station. No one wants to be hanging around their quarters this morning. Too much is happening. Everyone is too keyed up even to find Gindin’s stash of spirt.