Hey all,
I did a goggle search for Dumbflow silencers and I got this story......Thought it was kinda neat and ya gotta love the title..
Softly Softly Catchy Monkey
by DocDoom
We leave port and once clear of the immediate area go to full step-plane and 40 knots. The triple V-12 Allisons (1,700 cu.in. x 3) each of our 4 boats carries roar their deep throated burble through the dumbflow silencers.
We near the coast, well ahead of the time the enemy ships are expected to appear. We throttle back to 8 knots, to lower the sound of our exhaust and to reduce dramatically the phospheressence of our wake in the moonlight. We creep along the coast until we are about 5 miles out from the enemy port entrance.
We clutch the engines and drift, manoeuvring only to maintain our position just north of the outer entrance buoy. Everyones eyes scan the horizon for any sign of anything dark and ominous.
For our targets. The sole object of our existance at this time.
A voice crackles in my ear. "Doc .. I got 3 silouettes 40 degrees off to starboard."
"CC ... that must be them. Slowly, 8 knots everyone, come around to the port side, and fan out about d10 seperation. Put them between us and the moon."
We swing around so that the moon is behind them. This strengthens their silouettes and hides our phospheressence a little better. It also leaves us backdropped by the coastline, so we are much harder to see while we creep forward at maximum torpedo launch speed, a vulnerable 8 knots.
The engines can hardly be heard outside a thousand yards ... but at the 6oo yard launch window an alert sentry would hear them.
We creep forwards ... setting the angle in the sights for a good spread ... closer, waiting for ...
Tracer !
A curtain of flitting spitting snakes of fire erupt in front of us. The sea off to the side and slightly ahead of us churns to whitewater fury. Their gunners are slightly short, and not exactly sure of our true position.
"Fire !" and within moments of each other, our two fish heave themselves out of their tubes and plummet into the sea.
"Crash start ! Steer to port 120 degrees, full boost !"
The engines roar into being and our 70 foot Vospers begin to rise out of the water and heel over as the 3 rudders bite hard and we begin our run out of the hell that has exploded around us.
We take three 20mm hits in the transom, but suffer no casualties other than the litheful line of our graceful wooden hull looking like knees and elbows after a skateboard incident.
DGSBDY is less fortunate. A single 37mm hits the main fuel tank and his boat is blown into two halves seperated by a million pieces of highly varnished wood and machinery as the fireball goes BOOM ! WOOF ! in a sheet of petrol vapour driven flames.
"Damn !" I hear ATOM say, "we lost DGS".
Suddenly, about 1,500 yards behind us, a huge explosion shatters the night even more, and we know we got at least 1 hit with our 2 fish, or those of our partners in crime if not ours.
We reverse to check for survivors of DGSBDY's boat ... but the sheer volume of tracer being directed at the stricken remains of DGSBDY's boat prevent us hanging around. We withdraw until the show dies down and all falls relatively silent again.
The ship we had scored a direct hit on sinks slowly under the flames that remain after it has dissappeared from view. The others slip away quietly.
We slowly drift at 5 knots back to where DGSBDY's boat lists drifting apart, flames licking the night between the two halves.
DGSBDY calls out form off to our left ... we let him climb aboard and, gazing at the dieing flames of our "kill" as we turn back to home ... we bring those sweet aero engines back to life and skim across the blackness of the sea towards the moon hanging over our harbour, guiding us back to safety and the sweet serenity of land.
The beauty and grace, the sheer feeling of power that a planing hull at 40 knots can swallow you with, is as close to heaven as any after mission lull can possibly be.
That we struck success with no loss of life just makes it so much more exhilerating.
It won't always be like that, but that's not for us to think about now. That will come when it comes. We wallow in our brotherhood and teamsmanship, and the joy of a job well done.
Our story will be told and retold many times over before we fade away.