WITH THE BATTLE FLEET
[Illustration: _Courtesy of Collier's Weekly_
In the Straits of Magellan]
WITH
THE BATTLE FLEET
CRUISE OF THE SIXTEEN BATTLESHIPS OF THE
UNITED STATES ATLANTIC FLEET FROM HAMPTON
ROADS TO THE GOLDEN GATE
DECEMBER, 1907-MAY, 1908
BY
FRANKLIN MATTHEWS
ILLUSTRATED BY
HENRY REUTERDAHL
(Courtesy of Collier's Weekly)
1909
B. W. HUEBSCH
NEW YORK
Copyright 1909
by B. W. HUEBSCH
1st Printing, October, 1908
2d Printing, December, 1908
3d Printing, February, 1909
TO
REAR ADMIRAL RICHARD WAINWRIGHT, U.S.N.,
(Captain of the U.S.S. Louisiana on the Atlantic Fleet's
Cruise to the Pacific)
AN ABLE OFFICER AND
A GENTLEMAN
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. FROM HAMPTON ROADS TO TRINIDAD 1
II. CHRISTMAS WITH THE FLEET 25
III. TRINIDAD TO RIO DE JANEIRO 47
IV. NEPTUNE AHOY! 64
V. BRAZIL'S ENTHUSIASTIC WELCOME 86
VI. NATIONAL SALUTES AT SEA 114
VII. PUNTA ARENAS, THE WORLD'S JUMPING-OFF PLACE 135
VIII. THROUGH MAGELLAN STRAIT 164
IX. IN AND OUT OF VALPARAISO HARBOR 182
X. PERU'S WARM-HEARTED GREETING 198
XI. TARGET SHOOTING AT MAGDALENA BAY 228
XII. ROUTINE OF A BATTLESHIP 254
XIII. SOCIAL LIFE ON AN AMERICAN MAN-O'-WAR 282
XIV. END AND LESSONS OF THE CRUISE TO THE PACIFIC 309
INTRODUCTORY
On December 16, 1907, there sailed from Hampton Roads, bound for San
Francisco, a fleet of sixteen American battleships, the most powerful
collection of warships ever assembled under the American flag and about
to undertake the longest cruise that any fleet of any nation had ever
made. It was ordered to make this journey of about 14,000 miles by
President Roosevelt, Commander-in-Chief of the Navy by virtue of his
office, for reasons which he did not deem wise to make public fully and
which up to this writing have not been revealed. In his annual message
submitted to Congress a few days before the fleet sailed the President
designated the fleet, still known officially as the U. S. Atlantic
Fleet, as the Battle Fleet.
Rear Admiral Robley D. Evans was in command of the fleet, of the first
squadron and of the first division of the first squadron. The ships of
his division were the Connecticut, (Captain H. Osterhaus), Kansas
(Captain C. E. Vreeland), Vermont (Captain W. P. Potter) and Louisiana
(Captain Richard Wainwright). The ships of the second division of the
first squadron were commanded by Rear Admiral William H. Emory and were
the Georgia (Captain H. McCrea), New Jersey (Captain W. H. H.
Southerland), Rhode Island (Captain J. B. Murdock) and Virginia (Captain
S. Schroeder). The second squadron of the fleet and its third division
were commanded by Rear Admiral Charles M. Thomas, and the ships of his
division were the Minnesota (Captain J. Hubbard), Ohio (Captain C. W.
Bartlett), Missouri (Captain G. A. Merriam) and the Maine (Captain G. B.
Harber). The ships of the fourth division were commanded by Rear Admiral
Charles S. Sperry, and his ships were the Alabama (Captain T. E. DeW.
Veeder), Illinois (Captain J. M. Bowyer), Kearsarge (Captain H.
Hutchins) and Kentucky (Captain W. C. Cowles). There were about 14,000
men on the ships and the value of the vessels and stores was about
$100,000,000.
The following compilation shows where the fleet stopped, how long each
stay was and the distance travelled.
Sailed from Hampton Roads, Va., December 16, 1907.
Arrived Port of Spain, December 23, 1907; sailed December 29,
1907; 1,594.7 knots; time 7 days 9 hours.
Arrived Rio de Janeiro, January 12, 1908; sailed January 22,
1908; 3,225 knots; time, 13 days 20 hours.
Arrived Possession Bar, Chile, January 31, 1908; sailed
February 1, 1908; 2,076 knots; time, 9 days.
Arrived Punta Arenas, Chile, February 1, 1908; sailed February
7, 1908; 75 knots; time, 9 hours.
Arrived Callao, Peru, February 20, 1908; sailed February 29,
1908; 2,693 knots; time, 12 days 10 hours.
Arrived Magdalena Bay, Mexico, March 12, 1908; sailed April 11,
1908; 3,025 knots; time, 12 days 23 hours.
Arrived San Diego, Cal., April 14, 1908; sailed April 18, 1908;
590 knots; time, 2 days 21 hours.
Arrived San Pedro, Cal., April 18, 1908; sailed April 25, 1908;
75 knots; time, 9 hours.
Arrived Santa Barbara, Cal., April 25, 1908; sailed April 30,
1908; 85 knots; time, 10 hours.
Arrived Monterey, Cal., May 1, 1908; sailed May 2, 1908; 210
knots; time, 25 hours.
Arrived Santa Cruz, Cal., May 2, 1908; sailed May 5, 1908; 15
knots; time, 2 hours.
Arrived San Francisco Lightship, May 5, 1908; sailed May 6,
1908; 60 knots; time, 6 hours.
Arrived San Francisco, Cal., May 6, 1908; 15 knots; time, 2
hours. Total knots, 13,738.
Actual time of cruising, 61 days 19 hours.
The departure of the fleet excited intense interest throughout the
civilized world. Its progress was watched with eagerness at home and
abroad. The letters printed herewith record what took place on this
momentous journey, and they constitute practically a chronological story
of the cruise. Every word of them was passed upon by duly appointed
naval officers with the fleet. Their accuracy therefore must be
unquestioned. They were written for The Sun of New York and they were
printed originally by that newspaper and its clients simultaneously
throughout the country. They are reproduced by the special permission of
the Sun Printing and Publishing Association and in response to a large
number of written and oral requests that a permanent record be made of
the cruise and its incidents.
The author takes pleasure in making acknowledgment of the kindly
co-operation of Lieut. F. Taylor Evans of the Louisiana in the
preparation of the letters and in the elimination of technical naval
errors through his watchful supervision. The author is also under
obligations to very many officers of the fleet, especially to Lieutenant
Commander C. T. Jewell, navigator of the Louisiana, for suggestions and
for assistance in gathering information, as well as for the cordiality
with which he and the other correspondents, all of whom were sent with
the fleet by special direction of the President, were received on the
ships.
F. M.
New York, July 1, 1908.
WITH THE BATTLE FLEET
CHAPTER I
FROM HAMPTON ROADS TO TRINIDAD
Run of the Battleships Down to the West Indies--The "Sweet
Sixteen" Quick to Get Down to Business After the Sentiment of
the Good-by--Formation of the Fleet--Difficulties of Maintaining
the Proper Distances--Naval Routine--Gospel of Neatness--
Neptune's Preparations for Celebrating the Crossing of the
Line--Arrival at Trinidad.
_On Board U.S.S. Louisiana, U. S. Battle Fleet,_
TRINIDAD, Dec. 24.
"I call 'em 'Sweet Sixteen', sir," said the bos'n's mate to the Sun
correspondent as Admiral Evans in the flagship Connecticut led the
battle fleet past the capes of the Chesapeake out to sea just before
noon on December 16 and the gentle swells lifted and lowered the bows of
one ship after another to nod their own farewells to the Mayflower at
anchor near the Tail of the Horseshoe.
The officers and men had stood at attention to receive the good-by and
godspeed of the President, and they had thundered their farewells to him
from the throats of the 3-pounder barkers that spat fire and snorted out
great puffs of smoke, but when each ship began to find herself she too
made her good-by as only a dignified ship could make it, taking no
orders from Admiral or Captain as to when and how often she should bow
to the ship that carried the President.
A stiff northwest wind seized hold of the great streamers of smoke that
poured over the tops of smoke-pipes, and as these streamers frayed
themselves out against the blue sky and the bright sun the breeze seemed
to lift them toward the southeastern heavens, where some power wove them
together to pull the ships along and give them a fine sendoff. All of
Monday and Tuesday whoever it was in the kingdom of Old Boreas that was
doing the tugging on the ships made a good job of it, for practically
every vessel in the fleet had to check speed constantly.
Admiral Evans had his own notions as to the way a great fleet should set
sail on a prolonged voyage, and his commanding officers got down to
business in a jiffy. All acted as if sending a fleet of sixteen
battleships on a 14,000 mile cruise were a mere matter of ordinary
routine. The officers of the deck on all the ships were concerned
chiefly about keeping their proper distances, the navigators were taking
bearings and already getting ready for figuring out latitudes and
longitudes, the executive officers were going about to see that
everything was in proper order for routine at sea and the captains were
mostly on the bridges casting their eyes about and keeping their ears
open, alert to correct any move that might mar the performance of their
ships in the fleet formation.
Below decks in engine and fire rooms, and in all the other of the scores
of places where men watch and work in a warship, routine was established
quickly.
It was all very businesslike. Every ship was doing the same thing at the
same time. True, the fleet had started for San Francisco, but that was
a mere detail, so little has the matter of destination to do with
perfecting drill on a warship.
[Illustration: _Copyright by Pictorial News Co._
The Fleet Leaving Hampton Roads]
Getting away from Hampton Roads may have sent a lump into many a man's
throat, but not one showed it. On every ship the band was playing the
usual good-by medley composed of "Home, Sweet Home," "The Girl I Left
Behind Me" and "Auld Lang Syne." The middle part of the medley brought
thumping of many feet on the deck, but there was silence and stern looks
ahead when the beginning and end were reached, over and over again.
A staff officer on the Louisiana showed the attitude of the naval man.
He had told his wife and family exactly where to go in a remote but
conspicuous place on the ramparts of old Fort Monroe so that he could
distinguish them easily with his glass. He had told them he would be on
the after bridge. When the ship came near the station of his family he
stole far out on the bridge, fixed his glass on the family group and
waved and waved his handkerchief. The answer came quickly and the
flashes seemed to be wigwags, such as a naval officer's wife might be
expected to know.
The officer stood it for about two minutes. Then he pulled himself
together sharply, turned and walked away. He walked over to a group of
his mates.
"Did you make out your people, Jones?" asked one of them who had noted
what was going on.
"I believe they were over there somewhere in the crowd," was the reply
with an apparently unconcerned smile.
He had finished with that side of his existence. From now on he knew no
family; his duty was to his flag and ship. What was that signal at the
forward truck? Had anybody made it out? His heartstrings were out of
sight and he was thankful they were.
The business side of the start was another story. Orders had been issued
to steam in exact column, that is, one ship directly behind its leader
at a distance of 400 yards from masthead to masthead. Steam was up;
engines, steering gear, annunciators, and all the rest of the modern
contrivances had been tested; boats hoisted in and gangways unrigged,
and then came the flagship signal to get under way.
How the men did step around and the anchor engines tug! The division
officer watched until the anchor was clear of the mud, when he reported
it to the executive officer, who takes a ship in and out of port.
Finally the anchor was sighted, the "All ready" signal made, the engines
began to throb and the ships turned on their heels and got under way.
It was a pretty manoeuvre in the crowded Roads with the swift tide
sweeping the ships seaward. In the chains the leadsman was swinging his
plummet and calling out such things as "By the mark seven," "By the deep
six," "By the quarter less six," while the ships slowly paraded down the
bay. The channel was so shallow that the ships stirred up the mud and
some of it got into the machinery, and there were hot bearings that were
cooled down with the hose. It would not do to falter or make a blunder
of any kind, for the President was looking on and no excuses would be
tolerated.
It was a far different story from the old days. The old sloop of war
Jamestown lay in the Roads, and if the fleet could have stopped to
listen she would have spun a yarn on how they used to leave port. She
would have remarked upon the change. When she set sail capstan bars
would be shipped and all that part of the ship's company manning the
bars would bring the anchor chain "up and down, sir," as the officer in
charge of the fo'c's'le would report. The captain and First Luff (the
executive officer who "had to have the ship working like a chronometer,
no thanks if he did and his hide scorched by his superiors if he
didn't") would stand on the quarter block on the weather side and the
navigator and officer of the deck on the lee side.
Then would come the sharp commands, "Aloft light yardmen!" "Aloft
topmen!" "Aloft lower yardmen!" "Lay out!" "Let fall!" and a cloud of
snowy canvas would drop loose and limp. Then would come the commands,
"Topsail sheets and halyards!" "To'gallant sheets and halyards!" "Set
taut!" "Haul away!" with the shrill sound of the bos'n's whistle to the
tramp of hundreds of feet.
When a band was on board there would be a martial air. If not the
officer would shout "Stamp and go!" and this noise with the feet meant
so much extra pulling, and the good ship was soon on her course.
Sometimes a chanty would be sung instead of the "Stamp and go," and when
the ship was bound for Rio, just as this fleet is, one could hear the
light hearted, and the heavy hearted ones too, singing a refrain that
the men of this fleet might well have sung if the days of the chanty had
not gone to limbo:
Heave away for Rio!
Heave away for Rio!
My bonny young girl,
My head's in a whirl,
For I'm bound for the Rio Grande.
The old days have gone, but many a bluejacket's head (bluejacket, mind
you; not Jackie, for many of Uncle Sam's tars and sea dogs don't like
that term) was in a whirl over some bonny young girl, as witness the
hundreds of letters that were sent ashore on the mail orderly's last
trip.
And so the ships passed out to sea. The matter of fact officers
occasionally cast their eyes about and when they had time to give
expression to their feelings about all that one would hear from them
would be:
"Mighty fine, sight, this. Wonder what they're doing back there?
Distance seems wrong. Better get up his position pennant or the Admiral
may get after him. What's that? We're fifty yards too close? Give her
three revolutions slower. Only twenty-five now? Give her only one
slower. Get her distance now? Standard speed."
And the signals to the engine room would quit jangling for a time while
the Captain or officer of the deck looked around again and repeated:
"Mighty fine sight, this!"
It all depends on the way you look at it. You couldn't see much going
down the Chesapeake Bay channel. There was a turn or two, but the smoke
of the saluting obscured things and it was not until the ships headed
out to sea and the Connecticut was past the whistling buoy, which also
seemed to want to have a share in the sendoff, that it was possible to
get a satisfactory look at the entire fleet that stretched away for more
than three miles.
Then came a signal for open order. The Admiral's ship went right on. The
next following bore out to port and the next to starboard. Then the
ships paired off to port and starboard, making two lines, each a quarter
of a point off the flagship, which had a lane to itself in the centre,
giving the Admiral and his staff on the after bridge a view of all.
Perhaps the formation may be understood better by the average reader by
saying that it was a wing and wing formation.
Signals were passing along the line constantly and semaphores were
throwing their arms about as if they were manikins performing for the
amusement of the 14,000 men afloat. It was pretty to see a mass of flags
fall to the deck simultaneously from time to time. It was impressive to
see the flag of the country fluttering from the gaffs of mainmasts. It
was fine to see the ships keeping in line.
The commanding officers might refer to the spectacle as a mighty fine
sight, but the few civilians with the fleet shared the sentiment of a
tar who sidled up to the Sun man and said:
"This makes you proud of your country. You know already that the country
is big and great and all that, but when you see it reduced to this kind
of business on the ocean you are sure your country is great. None but a
great country could produce such a sight as this. I'm glad I've had the
chance to see it."
In single file for two hours the ships kept on their course. They were
like so many Indians on a jaunt. Each ship stood for sovereignty. Each
stood for brute strength. Each stood for the development of science and
skill. Each stood for an impressive expression of patriotism. In that
fleet of sixteen ships there seemed to be concentrated, according to
some of those who looked at them, the entire power of the United States
for good or evil.
When it came to estimating the brute strength of the fleet it grew
bewildering. The mathematicians got busy. They figured out that there
were nearly 1,000 guns of various kinds on the entire fleet and they
talked about the weight of projectiles and charges and then got down to
muzzle velocity in foot seconds and muzzle energy in foot tons and a lot
of other terms that would make a landlubber's head dizzy. They told how
the average muzzle velocity of those guns was 2,700 feet a second and
that a 13-inch gun's energy was equal to raising 31,372 tons a foot,
while that of a 12-inch gun, with which these ships are all armed, could
lift, by the power of one discharge, 44,025 tons a foot. Then they got
to figuring out how much all the guns could lift and how swift the
things they shoot could go. This ran the figures up into the millions of
foot tons just for one discharge.
When some one tried to figure out how many millions upon millions of
foot tons could be raised if all the projectiles in the fleet were
fired--the exact number of the thousands upon thousands of these
projectiles it would not be prudent even to indicate--why, an amateur at
figures, the simple addition, subtraction, multiplication and division
man, got a headache.
Then the figure sharps got after the engine power, and they tried to
show if one ship had something like 15,000 horse-power, more or less,
what the combined ships must have and what could be done with it on
land--that is, how many railroad trains, each a mile long, could be
pulled so many thousands of miles; how many bridges like those across
the East River they could pull down with just one tug at them; how many
cities such power could light; how many great factories and mills could
be run with that power, and even how much goods could be made out of
it--well, after that the amateur began to wonder if he could add up two
and two.
After that it was figured out that the displacement in tons for the
entire fleet was more than a quarter of a million, and the weight of a
lot of other heavy things in the world was estimated. By this time the
amateur was clear flabbergasted, and all he could say, landlubber that
he is and will be until Neptune has him ducked, was that if the fleet
did displace 250,000 tons of water the ocean didn't show any signs of it
and Uncle Sam would have to try many, many thousands of times if he
expected to get the better of old Neptune by displacing water.
After the mathematical sharps had finished, what are known as the word
painters and grainers became busy. Some of the word painters
compared the long file of ships to a line of gray geese in a long
follow-your-leader flight to the south for a warmer clime. The ships did
look gray at times, according to the atmospheric conditions, but the
gray geese analogy was voted not a success because geese haven't things
sticking up in the middle of their backs resembling the smoke-pipes of
battleships. Besides, geese do not give out black or any other kind of
smoke.
The painters got out their vocabulary of magnificent, awe inspiring,
formidable demons of war, bulldogs of the sea, peace compellers and all
that string and began to weave them all together, and it was voted all
right and probably appropriate, but it was said that these did not hit
quite the right note.
That was that this fleet was going out for business of a different kind
from that which any other American fleet had undertaken. The business in
hand was the moulding of sixteen battleship units into one battle fleet
unit, not sixteen times stronger than one unit, but with the strength
increased in something like geometrical ratio. The problem, therefore,
was to make this fleet a unit, not like a chain, strong only as its
weakest link, but like a rope, far stronger than the multiplied strength
of its various strands.
Charles H. Cramp, the veteran shipbuilder, nearly ten years ago pointed
out in a paper read at the annual meeting of naval men and marine
engineers in New York City that the greatest training need of the United
States navy was what he called battleship seamanship. That meant not
navigation merely, but the synchronizing of one battleship to others,
the tuning up, so to speak, the team work, to use a football analogy, in
sailing, manoeuvring, shooting--all pulling together.
Two hours after clearing the Capes Admiral Evans gave the signal for one
of his favorite cruising formations, that is, in columns of fours. The
four divisions of the fleet drew up in parallel lines with an Admiral at
the head of each line.
The five starred white flag, called the five of clubs, was run up at the
fore truck of the Connecticut to indicate that that ship was the guard
ship. The lines were run at intervals of 1,600 yards, and the ships of
each division, still in wing and wing fashion, were at distances of 400
yards. To be strictly naval you must call the space between two lines of
ships interval and the space between two individual ships in line
distance.
Well, after the ships were spread out they covered an area of more than
two square miles, and then one began to realize what all these ships
meant. The circle of twelve or fourteen miles that hemmed them in and
that expanded in front and contracted in the rear seemed practically
filled with them. Distances were kept fairly well and the ships plodded
along in the smooth sea nodding their approval of what was going on.
It was this problem of distance that kept the officers of the decks
busy. When you think that each of these ships represented a weight of
from 15,000 to 18,000 tons more or less, and that you had to move that
ship at the rate of 10 knots an hour and keep it within 400 yards of a
ship in front of you; when you consider how some ships move a trifle of
an inch faster than another ship at the same number of propeller
revolutions; when you think that one of the propellers of your own ship
will do more work than the other at the same number of revolutions, and
that this will throw you out of your course and make you steer badly if
you don't correct it; when you think that your leader may vary in his
speed; when you think of all this, you can begin to understand the
problem of those officers on the bridge to keep the ships in line and at
proper distances.
It took some time for each ship to determine how many revolutions were
necessary to produce ten knots speed, according to the standard of the
flagship. For example, the Louisiana's experts figured on sixty-seven
revolutions. It was too much, for after an hour or two it was found that
sixty-five would do the work. Some of the ships were between two
numbers. All the time each ship was gaining or losing a trifle and this
had to be corrected every minute or two. On each ship a young midshipman
stood on the bridge beside the officer on watch looking through a little
instrument of bars and glasses and wheels graduated to a scale of
figures and called a stadimeter. He reduced the truckline and the
waterline of the flagship to some mathematical basis involving
triangulation--what's the use of trying to explain it? No one but a
mathematician could understand it--and then he would say, "370 yards,
sir," or perhaps the figures would be 325 or 460, or what not, and the
officer of the deck would have to signal to the engine room to slow down
or go faster.
It was to be watchful every minute of the hour. The midshipman often had
to report distances every fifteen or twenty seconds and the corrections
of speed were going on every two or three minutes.
When you got more than forty yards out of the way you had to fly a
triangular pennant of white with red border and this was set down
against your ship on the flagship, and that you didn't like, if you were
the responsible officer.
And so the first day at sea wore on and the sun went down with a glow of
gold in the west that seemed like a benediction. Just as it sank below
the horizon the pink rays that were gathering reflected themselves on
the starboard sides of the white ships and gave them a touch of color.
Lights on the main truck on the foremast and at the stern and at the
sides appeared instantly, and it was night-time on the fleet.
The black smoke rose straight in the air, other lights began to twinkle
and soon, in the glow of the twilight and the gleam of the lights on the
vessels themselves and the illumination of the moon close to the full,
the ships took on an aspect such as lower New York assumes early in the
evening of mid-winter days when office buildings are lighted. When the
smoke smudged the sky or clouded the moon, however, it was like a city
of factories and it was decided that there was just one expression that
would give some idea of its beauty. It was this:
"Spotless town afloat."
Zest was added to the day's sendoff and work when the officers were
gathered in the wardroom at dinner and a wireless telegram of good
wishes from the Mayflower, received a short time before, was read. There
were cheers for the President, especially on the Louisiana, which is
called the President's ship because he sailed on her to Panama, and
hundreds of the officers and crew feel that they know him personally.
"Good for the President!" shouted one of the officers in the waist of
the table.
"So say we all," responded a man on the other side, "but I wish he had
told us where we are going."
That man didn't have to wait long, for soon there was sent into the
wardroom of every ship a message signalled from the flagship which said
that after a brief stay on the Pacific Coast the fleet would come home
by way of Suez. This is what Admiral Evans signalled:
UNOFFICIAL SIGNAL.
U. S. S. CONNECTICUT,
December 16th, 1907.
The President authorizes the Commander-in-Chief to inform the
officers and men that after a short stay on the Pacific Coast
it is the President's intention to have the fleet return to the
Atlantic Coast by way of the Mediterranean.
Every man jumped at that news; every one wished his wife or sweetheart
could know it at once. One of the puzzles about the fleet was settled.
There is no room in this first letter of the long cruise to go into
detail about the thousand and one things--incidents, ceremonies and
drills--that make up the routine and life on the warship. These will
come afterward in other forms. One might tell how the men on guard at
the side lights at night sing out after a bell is tapped: "Port light
burning bright," "Starboard light burning bright," how "the 9 o'clock
light is out, sir" report is made and received; how they "put the shirts
on" the gun muzzles and mainmast; how the call to dinner to the officers
is done on the Louisiana with a fife and drum, "rolling roast beef,"
they used to call it, and probably, do yet in the British navy, only the
tune is different in ours, for it is "Yankee Doodle"; how "sweethearts
and wives "are toasted once a week; how "make it eight bells" is said;
how scores of these things, many of them well known, are done and why.
Let it go for the present.
If there is one thing that impresses the civilian even more than the
ceremonies or the peculiar routine of a warship it is the cleanliness of
things. This applies as much to the men as it does to the remotest nook
and cranny in the darkest and deepest part of the ship.
The officer would take you into some corner where you had to bend your
back and almost go on your hands and knees and show you that it was as
clean as the most exposed parts of his bailiwick. The fleet had not been
out two days before the executive officer issued an order about
cleanliness.
The men were cautioned to keep themselves and their clothes clean on
penalty of going on the scrubbing list. It did not mean that there were
men on board who were slack in this respect, but there were a lot of
youngsters who had never been to sea before and they needed to be broken
in. What the scrubbing list is was well explained by an old time sailor
on board. He said:
"Man-o'-war cleanliness is different from any other that I know. I
distinguish it from all other kinds because it is the most searching and
far reaching thing of the kind in the world.
"It really begins on the inside of a man, at his soul, although I am
sorry to say you can't always see the effect of it there, and it works
its way out to his skin, clothing and surroundings. All must be
immaculately clean, and this habit is so thoroughly ingrained in the men
that to maintain it they will even commit crime.
"I mean just what I say. Let me give you an instance:
"In one of the old ships in which I sailed fresh water--it was the case
of all of 'em, sir--fresh water was a scarce article even to drink. No
fresh water could be had to wash our clothes. Salt water does not clean
clothing properly, no matter how you work over your duds.
"So our men in the old days actually used to steal the water out of the
breakers, the small casks kept in the boats at all times in case of
emergency, such as shipwreck. That is what I mean by committing crime.
We actually used to steal from the most important supply on the ship
just for the sake of keeping ourselves clean.
"For uncleanliness a man would be stripped naked and his skin scrubbed
with sand and canvas--no man ever forgot it who experienced that--and
sometimes with ki-yar brushes, by two husky bos'n's mates. All hands
soon got the habit of being clean."
There was much interest on the ships as to how the wireless telephone
would work out. The system has been in operation only a few months and
is largely in the experimental and almost the infantile stage.
All of the battleships are equipped with the apparatus and there was no
doubt about it, you could talk to any ship in the fleet from any other
and at times the sounds of the voice were as clear as through an
ordinary telephone. At times they weren't, and there was a division of
opinion among the officers as to the real value of the invention.
As is the case with the wireless telegraph only one ship of a fleet can
use the telephone at one time. While one ship is talking to another all
the other ships must keep out of it and even the ship to which the
message is being sent must keep still and not break in. The receiver
must wait until the sender has got all through with what he has to say
and then he can talk back.
The sending and receiving machines use part of the apparatus of the
wireless telegraph outfit. If an attempt is made to use the telegraph
while the telephone is in use the telephone goes out of commission at
once because it is absolutely drowned out. The telegraph apparatus uses
so much greater power that it is like a loud voice overwhelming a soft
one.
The operator at the telephone would sound a signal with some sort of a
buzzer that had the wail of a lost cat in its voice and then he would
put a little megaphone into the mouthpiece of the telephone and would
say, sharp and clear:
"Minnesota! Minnesota! Minnesota! This is the Louisiana! This is the
Louisiana! This is the Louisiana! We have a press message for you to
send to the beach. We have a press message for you to send to the beach.
Do you hear us? Do you hear us? Minnesota! Minnesota! This is the
Louisiana! Go ahead! Go ahead!"
Sometimes the message would fail. Sometimes the wireless, one kind or
the other, would be working on other ships. Sometimes the answer would
come at once and the operator would write down the reply and hand it
over to you.
When connection would be established fully the operator instead of
reading off your press message would click it off by a telegraph key to
the Minnesota's operator. That was to make sure that he would get it
correctly. Peculiarly spelled words employed in cabling could not be
made out by the ordinary operator and it was taking chances to spell
them out with the voice, and hence they were sent with the key, the
operation really being a combination of the wireless telephone and
telegraph, yet not at all complicated in practical operation.
Everyone of the electrical experts with the fleet is convinced that the
wireless telephone is going to be of value. Most of them have talked
with it clearly for distances of at least twenty miles. One difficulty
is in keeping it tuned up because the wireless telegraph apparatus is
also on board.
Some of the experts seemed to think that one service dropped in
efficiency if the other was kept keyed up to its best. All were
confident that as soon as certain difficulties were overcome,
difficulties no more serious, they said, than the ordinary telephone
encountered in the beginning, the apparatus would be workable as readily
as a telephone on land. Give it time, was the way the situation was
summed up.
Speaking about wireless telegraph, have you heard the latest wrinkle in
it, the most up to date use of it? Of course you haven't. It remained
for the voyage of this fleet to disclose it.
Three days out, every ship got wireless messages from Father Neptune
warning it to be ready to receive him on crossing the line. The message
was genuine because it was posted up and a copy sent to the executive
officer as soon as it was received. An orderly brought it to him with an
unusually stiff salute while the wardroom was at mess.
It served notice on all "landlubbers, pollywogs and sea lawyers" that
they must be initiated and it appointed one Fore Topmast as "official
representative of his Most Gracious Majesty Neptune Rex, Ruler of the
Royal Domain." It called for a meeting of the "faithful subjects" to
arrange for the ceremonies of his visit.
The meeting on the Louisiana was held in No. 12 casemate, on the port
side of the gun deck aft. The proceedings were secret, but it was soon
known that royal policemen, royal barbers, royal judges, royal counsel
and a lot of other royal functionaries were appointed. The word went
through the ship that the ceremonies were to be pretty strenuous; that
no one who had not crossed the Equator would escape.
To show how serious this was here is a copy of one of Neptune's messages
and the order that followed its reception:
NOTICE.
The following wireless was received at 11 p.m., December 19,
1907:
_Fore Topmast, Official Representative on Board the Good Ship
Louisiana of His Majesty Neptune Rex, Ruler of the Royal
Domain._
At the time the Thomas W. Lawson turned turtle many of my
trusted police were on board, and as a result they were more or
less injured and all of the regulation uniforms carried by them
were lost. Therefore it will be necessary for me to designate
many of my royal subjects on board the good ship represented by
you to act in their stead, and you are authorized to make the
selection from among the most faithful of those who belong to
the royal realm.
In making the appointments you will consider their
qualifications as to severity, alertness, seadogness, their
knowledge as to the interior plans of the ship and their
ability to follow the trail of any landlubber, pollywog or sea
lawyer who endeavors to escape the initiation as prescribed by
me.
You will report to me by wireless the names of the subjects
selected, the position assigned and the proficiency of each in
order that I may forward their commission at once.
You will have the regulation uniforms made up at once and will
carry out all orders in this connection.
Your Majesty,
NEPTUNE REX,
Ruler of the Royal Domain.
GENERAL ORDER NO. 3.
In view of the above I have this day, the 20th of December,
1907, selected from among the royal subjects on board the good
ship Louisiana the trusted police as directed by his Majesty,
and those selected have been notified of their appointment, all
of whom have accepted. The attention of all the royal subjects
is invited to paragraph X, article VIIX, regulations of the
royal realm, relative to police duty and to the punishments
prescribed for those who fail to perform their duty properly
and to the landlubber, pollywog or sea lawyer who tries to
avoid the initiation as prescribed by his Majesty.
As noted in the wireless message from his Majesty many of the
uniforms were lost, the trusted police selected will at once
visit his Majesty's tailor, the sailmaker's mate, and be
measured for the uniform to protect him from the crabs, eels
and sharks.
FORE TOP, O. R. H. M. N. R.
Two days later this wireless was received and an order issued complying
with directions:
NOTICE.
The following wireless was received at 1 a. m., December 21:
_Fore Topmast, Official Representative of His Majesty Neptune
Rex, Ruler of the Royal Domain, on Board the Good Ship
Louisiana._
It has been reported to me by a member of my secret police on
board of the good ship on which you are my representative that
there are several landlubbers, pollywogs and sea lawyers who
intend to escape the initiation as prescribed by me by stowing
themselves away; of course this is folly on their part, as
there is not a hole or corner on board the good ship Louisiana
that my faithful police and subjects are not familiar with, and
it is therefore impossible for any one to avoid escaping the
royal initiation. Those who do try to escape the initiation in
this manner will of course be apprehended, and when brought
before me on the day of the ceremonies they will not soon
forget the trick they endeavored to play on the royal realm,
and the dose they get will be more severe than any I have as
yet prescribed. Referring to the secret code of the royal
realm, the following landlubbers, pollywogs and sea lawyers
have been reported to me as mentioned above: Gabnokto,
Thnruowk, Mawjtrqmorptzs, Wqquopbchr and Ybxquotrdhgle. You
will therefore at once issue orders to the chief of police to
attend to these crabs and to put his best men on their trail,
and if the above is true they will so report to me upon my
arrival on board.
Your Majesty,
NEPTUNE REX,
Ruler of the Royal Domain.
GENERAL ORDER NO. 4.
This is to inform the members of the royal realm on board the
good ship Louisiana that I have this day issued orders to the
chief of police to place five of his best men on the trail of
the men as mentioned in his Majesty's wireless and whom you
will all know by referring to the royal secret code which you
have in your possession. You will also keep track of these
animals and report to me any out of the way move which they
should make. You will also be on the lookout for any other of
these who happen to be on board, and should they make a false
move I will make a special report to his Majesty with
recommendations which will cover all defects.
FORE TOP,
Official Representative of His Majesty.
After one day's steaming in four columns the fleet was deployed into two
columns. For one day the speed was increased to 11 knots. The little
tender Yankton, which is to be used as the Admiral's yacht in port and
for short journeys and which has been running with the fleet off the
starboard side of the flagship, was sent on ahead to get a good start.
One day's steaming at 11 knots brought her back to us and then the fleet
resumed the slower speed.
The weather was fine throughout. When the trade wind belt was
encountered about 300 miles north of St. Thomas the ships pitched a good
deal, but there was little rolling. Sea legs had been acquired by that
time and few on board were incapacitated. There was a squall now and
then in the Caribbean with a dash of rain for five or ten minutes, but
that was nothing.
On Friday, December 20, the Missouri was detached from the fleet to take
a sailor sick with peritonitis to San Juan, and later that night the
Illinois was sent to Culebra with a sailor who had pneumonia. Of course
both could have been treated on board ship, but Admiral Evans thought
that it would be more humane to give these men the best treatment that
could be had on shore and so did not hesitate. Two great warships were
sent away from the fleet formation, all for the comfort of two men. The
ships joined the fleet again late on Saturday.
There were only one or two slight mishaps to ship machinery reported on
the journey down, really nothing worthy of note, a pump or something of
that kind being out of order. The fleet went along in splendid style.
Three days out the intervals and distances were almost perfect at all
hours of the day and night. The voyage soon became a double procession
of warships, with just the ordinary routine going on.
On Sunday, December 22, the first death on the fleet was reported. It
was that of Robert E. Pipes, an ordinary seaman on the Alabama, enlisted
at Dallas, Tex., in August last. He died of spinal meningitis. Nothing
was known of the death on the fleet until eight bells were sounded at 4
P.M. Admiral Evans had gone ahead of the fleet at noon to make a four or
six hour test of the new fuel called briquettes, and his ship was out of
sight. Admiral Thomas on the Minnesota was in command. His ship was
leading the second squadron, 1,600 yards to port.
The men on watch saw the national colors being raised on the mainmast.
There was a scurry on every ship to get up the colors. Every one
wondered whether land or a ship had been sighted. Slowly the colors went
up and then down to half mast. All colors on the other ships went to
half mast. The order for half speed was given and then came a signal to
stop. The rails of the ships were crowded at once. Up and down the
columns the men looked and then it was seen that the quarterdeck of the
Alabama was crowded. The order had been given there: "All hands aft to
bury the dead!"
The captain read the burial service. An opening in the lines of the men
on the lee side was made and Pipes's body, sewed in a hammock and
weighted with shot, was slipped gently over the side. It made very
little splash. Three volleys were fired by the marines, taps were
sounded, the colors were run up to the gaff on the mainmast on all the
ships and standard speed was ordered again as the flags came down. The
ceremony occupied exactly nine minutes and Admiral Thomas sent a
wireless telegram to Admiral Evans notifying him of what had been done.
The burial cast a gloom for a few minutes on all the ships.
Much to the regret of many officers and men, Admiral Evans took the
Virgin instead of the Anegada passage into the Caribbean and then headed
straight for Trinidad. Many had hoped that he would sail along the chain
of islands and that they might catch a glimpse at least of Martinique
and some of the other historic places. But business is business on a
fleet as well as on shore. Coal must be saved, and the way to go to a
place is to go on the shortest possible line consistent with safety.
So it was that on Monday, December 23, Trinidad, just off the Venezuelan
coast, came in sight, the ships entered the Dragon's mouth into the Gulf
of Paria and swung around the point and anchored in the roadstead off
Port of Spain just before sunset.
The first leg of the journey was over. It was merely the warming up
stage. To-morrow will be Christmas. A bunch of mistletoe is already
hanging in the Louisiana's wardroom. Some of the ships brought
their Christmas trees and greens along. There'll be sports of all
kinds--boxing, rowing by officers and men, athletic contests on
ship--good cheer generally.
Just fancy a Christmas with the thermometer at 90 degrees!