Thursday Prompt
15/2/2024
"Salvation"


Eternal Father, strong to save,
Whose arm hath bound the restless wave,
Who bidd'st the mighty ocean deep
Its own appointed limits keep,
O hear us when we cry to thee
For those in peril on the sea

“Bridge, observer, tally dinghy on the water, bearing two-zero-zero, range six hundred feet” Aircraftman Bigsby almost squealed on the intercom when the ray of his searchlight caught a faint glimmer amongst the foams. "Pilot, Follow my beam!"

Under the blinding carbon-arc light, a small rubber dinghy could be seen bobbing around at the mercy of the seas, cresting the waves before disappearing again in the trough. Its two occupants, holding onto the small raft for dear life, waved their hands frantically to catch the attention of the flying leviathan.

Passing mere feets above the wave tops, the deafening roar of the 'Flying Frigate''s four radial motors drowned the fiercest rolls of thunder and crashing waves that almost claimed the two poor shivering souls below. Trails of mist clinged to her immense wingspan, casting an angelic form as they cut through thick walls of rain.

“Roger, observer. Confirm contact at eight o’clock position, keep your beam on target” A calm voice responded from the other end. Sub-lieutenant Watson, the young first officer of the 'Flying Frigate', combed through the water landing checklist while her seasoned captain brought the gigantic seaplane into a shallow left-hand turn “Chief, rig hull for landing”

“Rig hull for landing, aye sir!” Chief engineer Rowland, a burly aviation machinist's mate, swung on his seat and flicked a couple of switches on his cluttered station. With a low humming sound, hydraulic jacks pulled the six-feet radar dome and numerous sensor blisters back into their sealed compartments, clearing the seaplane's boat-shaped hull for water landing. A loud metallic clang, followed by a blinking green light on the engineer’s panel indicated that the radome and sensor hatches had been closed and locked in place. “Dome retracted, hatches secured, hull rigged for landing sir!”

“Thank you chief; all hands, prepare for water landing” The first officer tightened his seatbelt, shoulder harnesses and adjusted his seat; all hands reported they were ready “Everything set cap'n, you ready?”

“Hm?” Lieutenant-commander Melrose, wrestling the controls of the 'Flying Frigate' against vicious, unrelenting gale force wind, carefully lined up her nose for final approach “Ready and able mister Watson”

“What do you say, twenty, thirty foot waves below?”

“Plenty of fun” the captain gave the sub-lieutenant little more than a smirk "Lets fish these poor sods out of the water"

Lord, guard and guide the men who fly
Through the great spaces in the sky.
Be with them traversing the air,
In darkening storms and sunlight fair.
O hear us when we lift our prayer
For those in peril in the air.