Original subtitles

(violin music)

(echoing sound waves) (70s music)

(suspenseful music)

(trumpet music)

(radar echoing)

- There it is.

Range 2,500 yards, standby missile one.

- Missile one, ready, sir.

(dramatic music)

- Steer 140.

- Aye, aye, Skip.

Steady on 140, sir.

- Right.

(radar echoing)

Prepare to fire.

Fire.

- One,

two,

three,

four,

five,

six,

seven,

eight...

(exploding)

- Target hit a stern.

She's out of control.

Steer 165.

- 165 it is, sir.

- Standby missile three, range: 2,100 yards.

- Missile three, ready sir.

- Fire.

(exploding)

Bullseye.

Great.

Radio this message to the Admiral.

Missiles fired on 25 degree calculated area.

Target ship destroyed.

Returning to base.

(exploding)

Read old missile tubes.

- Yes, sir.

Closing water out pipes.

Blowing water from tubes one and three.

Automatic reload tube one.

Automatic reload tube three.

(dramatic music)

(water gushing)

Sir, the missile room, it's flooding.

- What?

Stop the pumps.

- Yes, sir.

(violin music)

No response sir.

We're still getting depth.

- Blow old main ballast.

- Yes, sir.

That was still too heavy, sir.

- Blow internal ballast.

(dramatic music)

- It's no good sir.

(machines powering down)

We've hit the bottom.

Sir, the pumps are useless.

- There's only one explanation.

A missile outlet must be open to the sea.

- Well, there's nothing more we can do, sir.

We're stuck.

- What's our position?

- Sir, this sounds impossible

but we're in Porto-Guavan territorial waters.

- Are you certain? - Yes, sir.

We've drifted about 10 miles off course.

- We've got to get clear.

If they find us here, we're in trouble.

Release the ALPs.

Send a coded message to base.

- Yes, sir.

(beeping)

(upbeat trumpet music)

(soft music)

- Our brain impulse library is building quickly, sir.

That department of yours doesn't waste time.

- Hm, that's the idea Mac.

- You seem edgy, Sam.

Is anything wrong?

- Well it's not... (phone ringing)

Ah, I'll get it.

Sam Loover, hello?

Yes, Chief.

- The report's been confirmed, Sam.

It's an emergency.

I want Joe and the Professor on immediate standby.

- Okay, Chief.

- That two-man atomic submarine is grounded

inside Porto-Guavan territorial waters.

The Navy's sending in a helijet to try and pick up the crew.

- And if they make it without being spotted?

- They've got to make it and that sub must be moved.

You know the political situation of that country, Sam.

It's dynamite.

Have Joe ready.

- Right sir.

Mac, the brain impulse tape for aquanaut Bill Fraser.

- Bill Fraser, aquanaut.

Hm, ah, Q14.

That's it.

Set it up on the big ground.

- Have you got a mission for me uncle Sam?

- [Sam] Looks like it Joe.

(long beep)

(soft music)

- They should pick us up in three minutes, with luck.

Standby.

- Yes, sir.

Uh-oh, we've got company.

Look.

- Get down.

- You think they saw us, sir?

- I don't know.

Let's hope not.

There's the helijet.

- Am I glad to see him.

- Okay Chief, leave it to me.

That was WIN headquarters, London.

The crews been picked up.

The mission's on.

Now here's the situation.

For years Porto-Guava has been in the grip

of a military dictatorship headed by Juan Chaves.

We've been working for free elections

and at last, they've been forced to agree.

- I see.

But if the regime found that submarine,

it would give Juan Chaves the perfect excuse

to call the elections off.

- Right.

That's why we've gotta get it out of there

without them knowing a thing about it.

It'll take skill and courage.

It's a job for Joe 90.

- Do we know the cause of the accident, Sam?

- Well Mac, that submarine sank

because the auto missile hatch failed to close.

That's the way you'll get in Joe, it's just big enough.

Then you pump out the water, get the U85 off the seabed

and move her outside the three mile limit.

- It sounds straight forward, Sam.

- Yes, but remember, Port-Guava is a police state.

They shoot first and ask questions later.

- Alright Joe, get into the rat trap.

- I'll book a seat for you two

on the midnight flight to Port-Guava.

- I'm ready, dad.

- Alright Joe, just relax.

Relax completely.

(machines whirring)

(70s music)

(soft music)

- Professor Maclain and your son Joe.

- That's correct.

- How long will you be staying with us, senor?

- Oh, about a week I should think.

- All this way for a week's holiday.

It is a little unusual is it not?

- Even one week here is worth the effort, Captain.

- I hope you find it so.

Good fishing, senor.

- Thank you.

We hope so too.

- Adios.

- Adios, amigo.

- Smart gringo.

Give me the chief of police.

(soft music)

- Anyone around?

Anyone around?

- Buenos dias, amigos.

Miguel Humberto Dos Pasos Franchesca at your service.

Can I be of help to you?

- We'd like to rent a boat.

We want to do a little fishing.

- This is the fastest,

most beautiful boat in all of Porto-Guava.

For five American dollars, I myself

will take you anywhere you wish to go.

- Uh, that's very kind, but we'd prefer to fish alone.

- Ah, amigo, unhappily the law does not permit.

These are dangerous water.

All visitors must be accompanied...

But, every law has its exceptions.

Fifty American dollars.

A lot to pay for fishing.

Unless...

Miguel, amigo, I think we will go

and take a look at these fisherman.

- Alright Joe, here are your goggles.

The radio link to the big graft has been built in.

- Okay, dad.

I'll go down and look around.

(soft music)

- He's intriguing, no?

Where is the young senor?

(dramatic music)

(dramatic music)

- What does it look like, Joe.

- Well, it's at about 145 feet

and the missile tube is just big enough for me to get in.

We're all set for tonight.

- Good.

You'd better change, Joe.

I think we'll go back to the hotel and get some rest.

(soft music)

(knocking)

Come in.

- I am sorry, senor, to disturb your siesta.

- That's alright, can I help you?

- Senor, you say you need my boat again tonight?

This makes me very unhappy.

- I see.

How much?

- It will cost you a little more.

But I came to warn you.

From the rocks by the sea,

a man with a telescope can see a very long way.

Such a man as a Lieutenant in the police.

- What are you trying to say?

- Uh, I myself happened to be on the rocks today.

There could be trouble.

(dramatic music)

- When?

- 20 minutes past nine o'clock.

- And you say the anchors were half an hour.

- Si Capitan.

- I think we will accompany the patrol boat tonight.

- It's time.

Start her up, Miguel.

- Si, senor.

This is truly an incredible adventure.

But, tell me senor, what are you really after?

Gold, sunken treasure?

- I told you, a big fish.

- And your boy's going to dive overboard and get it?

- That's right, isn't it Joe?

- Yes, dad.

- You are mad.

Your son is mad.

I am mad.

- Where did you see the Professor, Lieutenant?

- About five miles east of our present position.

- Good.

Full speed.

- Now listen, Joe.

That air bottle will last 20 minutes.

Set your wrist alarm.

- Right, it's set.

- Good.

We have spare bottles aboard.

Surface if you need a further supply.

- I understand.

- Well, good luck, Joe.

- Good fishing, amigo.

Did your boy have special training to dive so well, senor?

- Hmm, no, as a matter of fact,

this is only the second time he's worn an aquasuit.

(speaking Spanish)

(dramatic music)

- He's been down over 10 minutes.

- Si, senor, everything is...

Listen.

- What is it?

- Another boat.

Look.

At a moment like this, senor,

I too wish I was at the bottom of the sea.

(suspenseful music)

(dramatic music)

- Senor Maclain, you are under arrest.

- El Capitan...

- Be quiet, you vermin.

You are under arrest, also.

- What's the charge.

- Where is your son, Professor?

- Joe?

He's in an aquasuit, diving about 145 feet below us.

- In the middle of the night, not good enough Professor.

The charge is murder of your own son.

And take this miserable bolt in too.

- Wait.

- No, Professor.

I want you behind bars.

- No, wait.

My son has less than three minutes...

- Take them away.

(dramatic music)

(motor revving)

(dramatic music)

(guitar playing)

- It is nearly time, senor.

- I'm sorry I got you into this, Miguel.

- Ha, forget it, amigo.

They say the firing squad is very good.

But then they get a lot of practice.

And what court would believe a story such as ours?

- They were right to condemn us.

I did murder, Joe.

I should never have let Sam Loover...

- Senor, they are coming for us.

(speaking Spanish)

- By the authority vested in me by Presidente Juan Chaves

and the people of Porto-Guava and acting on the decision

of the Supreme Court, it is my duty to tell you...

You are free to go.

- Hello, dad.

- Joe.

Joe!

(upbeat music)

- Well that's about all, dad.

After I managed to free myself from that giant clam,

I only had three minutes air left.

But once I was inside the sub, I closed the inlet,

pumped out all the water and the rest was easy.

Were you worried, dad?

- Worried, no.

Well, maybe a little.

- Dad.

(knocking)

- [Professor] Come in.

- Professor, Joe.

- Hello, Miguel.

How are you?

- Life is a struggle.

But I have a plan to make us rich.

I have a cousin in Miami who would help us.

- What's your plan, Miguel?

- We could make Joe a star.

The boy aquanaut.

- (laughs) No, I'm afraid the...

- The Americanos would pay

a sombrero full of dollars, senor.

- I'm sorry, Miguel, we're going home.

Aren't we Joe?

- You bet, dad.

- You are mad.

Your son is mad.

I am mad.

(soft upbeat music)