Before we did a hot run for the depth charge, we decided to do a few cold runs without any explosives save for the triggering mechanism. We wanted to make sure that the trigger would work effectively, and that there wouldn't be any accidental detonations. So, for two days we did trial runs dragging the charge out of the bay, then eventually even having it dive downward hundreds of feet. Perhaps it's because we've had so much more experience with more complicated marine objects, but the tests actually went off without any major problems. There were a few minor issues that we resolved with a few hours of tinkering in total, and a little bit of training to cover for the rest of it.
Next came the true first run. We loaded up the torpedo-shaped bomb with 10 tons of dynamite and 60 tons of the gel in it's launch pad. The pad consisted of sand over top a straightaway of shaped stone to give it a smooth slide out to the water. The way it was designed, we fill it up at low tide, and by high tide, the device is mostly submerged, such that a large amount of its weight it buoyantly counteracted.
Since we had no idea how big this explosion was going to end up being, I decided to target a clam at nearly the maximum depth of the design, which we already ran a test for that depth, to ensure the casing wouldn't collapse under the pressures below 800 feet. The way the device is designed to be towed, the depth was about the same as the lateral offset, so the ship was about 800 feet horizontal away from the explosion or a total diagonal distance of about 1100 feet.
Even that distance though ended up being a bit too close. I've now learned that fact the hard way. Perhaps it has to do with explosions in the water rather than in the atmosphere, but from the shore I could feel the blast in the ground moments before I saw the blast rupture the surface of the water. The ship stayed afloat, but it made a hasty return to the dockyard, and by the time it arrived, it was floating quite a bit lower than when it started.
The blast had ruptured hundreds of small holes all over the hull of the ship, and had even caused some damage to other internal components. We didn't have any ammo loaded on the ship for this, which is good, because it very well might have detonated from the shockwave. The ship repairs are probably going to take a month or so to ensure everything is stable again. I'll have to work on the design somewhat to ensure that we can have the necessary distance moving forward. Before that though, we'll also need to send someone out to determine if the clam survived or not. We should also get a more accurate catalogue of all the clam positions and depths so we can plan out our next moves.
There was some good news five days later, the clam is dead. Where the blast happened, the shell is cracked, but not fully broken. That had us very worried, but after a few days of observations, it was determined that it had died, as there wasn't any indication of movement or healing. If I had to guess, the shockwave probably ruptured so many cells inside it's body that it perished. Its shell probably made it worse for it, rather than better, since the shockwave probably reflected internally through the soft tissue a few times off the internal shell walls. The depth of this particular clam is far to deep to do any kind of recovery, so it will just be left to eventually be consumed by other sea life, and it's shell left in place. Perhaps someday we'll be able to recover it, but that day is a long ways away.
We've identified 17 clams, minus the one we already dealt with. The minimum depth clam is at 50 feet below the surface at low tide, measured from the top of its shell. From the bottom of the ocean to the surface there is a total of 170 feet, meaning the clam is almost 120 feet tall. They aren't called leviathans for nothing. Most of the clams are somewhere between 100 and 250 feet deep. The deepest one is at 1400 feet. At that depth, we probably need to modify our design to deal with it. Though at that depth, it's probably not as detrimental to the same communities of fish that we eat.
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I say we've found clams at these depths, but it's not quite accurate to say it that way. We've discovered something at that depth that moves occasionally, and matches the description of a clam. We've been using long cables with lead weights to drag along behind the old powered barge using the old salvage crane. If they catch on something, they're lifted to form a general understanding of the shape of the object, and it's roughly mapped out. Because of this, mapping has been slow. We found the 800 feet of depth clam by happenstance after some attempts at recovery of the parts of a leviathan were attempted a few months ago.
They were attempting to catch and pull up parts from one of the exploded crabs using large hooks on the end of thick cabling, and realized there was something else at that depth. They'd consulted around and determined it must be a clam. That, unfortunately, means that while we know of 17 clams, there may be dozens or potentially hundreds more in unmapped depths. In five days they've identified three at a depth beyond visual confirmation range, so I think it's safe to assume there are a lot more than what we know of.
There is something of a pattern to their positions though. They're fairly regularly spaced away from each other, with higher densities closer to the shore than away from it. That being the case, I think it's safe to assume that the clams keep their distance from each other, so when we find one clam, we can assume a certain amount of space around it should be clam free.
Though that does beg the question, if the clams prefer the shallower waters, what happens if we kill one in the shallows? Will another move closer? If they do, we might be able to deal with the deeper clams merely by dealing with the shallower ones repeatedly. We do need to be careful when doing so, however. Even at 800 feet deep, hundreds of fish floated to the surface in the aftermath of the blast. I believe we probably need to choose our blasting locations wisely to give the nearby life a chance to recover.
I've drawn out a pattern for future blasts based on clam locations on a map. We'll be targeting clams that are on different sides of the island and at different depths on a rotation. We'll have to monitor the ecosystems as we blast the clams to determine if we need to space out our blasts, or change tactics in some way. There is the potential that the best action we can take is to designate a few areas as clam blasting zones, and repeatedly blast them as new clams come in, forsaking any wildlife that tries to move back into those zones until most of the clams have been dealt with.
The system I devised for longer towing while also allowing the ship to see a good indicator of the distance they're towing the bomb involves a series of towed buoys. Depending on the depth of the target clam, buoys will be attached to the tow line such that they are spaced 300 feet apart while dragged. The length of the buoy lines is determined by the total angle of the towed bomb's depth, so they'll have to be adjusted for each explosion. The fifth buoy will float directly above the bomb. If any buoy isn't visible, it means that the bomb is too deep, and if the buoys are too close to each other, it means that the ship needs to move.
That, of course, means that the process of manufacturing the bombs becomes even more complicated. Overall, I spent another eight days helping with repairs while also designing the new system. At that point, the first ship returned, and with the extra crew available to help with repairs, I was less needed.
I had redirected the clam scouting ship to start checking an approximate ring around the island at a depth just beyond where we can visually spot them. They've found three more clams in that time. They've indicated that it's much harder to check in a ring than outward in a line, because there are underwater ridges and valleys that spread out from the island, similar to how the surface of the island is shaped. That makes their method far less reliable, and they had a lot of false positives that were determined to be nothing after multiple passes.
It was enough of an indicator to determine that there are probably over a hundred of these clam leviathans stretching out to the depths from our island. I've told them that they can stop searching for the time being. For the next test, we'll be bombing a clam that we can see both it and its nearest neighbors further out. That way we can observe if other clams react to the explosion despite being over a mile away.
