As I came within sight of the ship I noted that the submarine rescue chamber, the ingenious device called the rescue bell which we discussed in an earlier chapter, was still on the dock. This meant that I was in good time. Since the bell weighed nearly ten tons we needed plenty of steam on the hoisting equipment to bring it aboard, but no matter what else was left behind the rescue bell had to come with us. It was the best hope for bringing out trapped men from a sunken submarine. Just a few minutes after I came aboard Cottrell was able to report enough power to run the winches, and in short order the rescue bell was moved from the dock to the fantail where it was lashed securely in place.
As a matter of record, in just one hour and twenty minutes following the “event one thousand” call, the Falcon was clear of the dock, steaming at full speed down the Thames River. This was a much more important race than the Harvard-Yale boat race held annually on this part of the river, but we had no spectators cheering us on. We passed under the bridges and before long we were in Long Island Sound off Fisher's Light, Unfortunately a fog was beginning to roll in and Lt. Sharp had to go around Fisher's Island and work toward Cape Cod Canal. Captain Edwards, Commanding Officer of the Submarine Base, had already sent word to the Army Engineers who operate the canal to keep the waterway clear as we were on an emergency mission.
Up until this time no one had had an opportunity to find out more than that the submarine, the U. S. S. SQUALUS, was on the bottom and we were on the way to do whatever we could. We learned that at 0745 that morning while making a routine training dive off Portsmouth, New Hampshire, she had gone down and had failed to report surfacing. She was a new submarine, just finishing her trials prior to making her shakedown cruise. As the messages began to come in we found out that the SCULPIN in nearby waters, had been notified by Portsmouth and had been able to find the buoy telephone released from the SQUALUS. Lt. Comdr. Warren Wilkin, Commanding Officer of the SCULPIN, had talked with Lieutenant Oliver Naquin, Commanding Officer of the SQUALUS, who had told him that there were thirty-three men alive in the forward three compartments. The engine room was flooded, however, and he thought the chances of any of the twenty-nine men there being alive were very remote unless they had been able to close the door into the after torpedo room.