And the following day was spent "resting in the centre of the Sea of
Marmara." That was their favourite preening perch between operations,
because it gave them a chance to tidy the boat and bathe, and they
were a cleanly people both in their methods and their persons. When
they boarded a craft and found nothing of consequence they "parted
with many expressions of good will," and E11 "had a good wash." She
gives her reasons at length; for going in and out of Constantinople
and the Straits is all in the day's work, but going dirty, you
understand, is serious. She had "of late noticed the atmosphere in the
boat becoming very oppressive, the reason doubtless being that there
was a quantity of dirty linen aboard, and also the scarcity of fresh
water necessitated a limit being placed on the frequency of personal
washing." Hence the centre of the Sea of Marmara; all hands playing
overside and as much laundry work as time and the Service allowed. One
of the reasons, by the way, why we shall be good friends with the Turk
again is that he has many of our ideas about decency.
In due time E11 went back to her base. She had discovered a way of
using unspent torpedoes twice over, which surprised the enemy, and she
had as nearly as possible been cut down by a ship which she thought
was running away from her. Instead of which (she made the discovery at
three thousand yards, both craft all out) the stranger steamed
straight at her. "The enemy then witnessed a somewhat spectacular dive
at full speed from the surface to 20 feet in as many seconds. He then
really did turn tail and was seen no more." Going through the Straits
she observed an empty troopship at anchor, but reserved her torpedoes
in the hope of picking up some battleships lower down. Not finding
these in the Narrows, she nosed her way back and sank the trooper,
"afterwards continuing journey down the Straits." Off Kilid Bahr
something happened; she got out of trim and had to be fully flooded
before she could be brought to her required depth. It might have been
whirlpools under water, or--other things. (They tell a story of a boat
which once went mad in these very waters, and for no reason
ascertainable from within plunged to depths that contractors do not
allow for; rocketed up again like a swordfish, and would doubtless
have so continued till she died, had not something she had fouled
dropped off and let her recover her composure.)
An hour later: "Heard a noise similar to grounding. Knowing this to be
impossible in the water in which the boat then was, I came up to 20
feet to investigate, and observed a large mine preceding the periscope
at a distance of about 20 feet, which was apparently hung up by its
moorings to the port hydroplane." Hydroplanes are the fins at bow and
stern which regulate a submarine's diving. A mine weighs anything from
hundredweights to half-tons. Sometimes it explodes if you merely think
about it; at others you can batter it like an empty sardine-tin and
it submits meekly; but at no time is it meant to wear on a hydroplane.
They dared not come up to unhitch it, "owing to the batteries ashore,"
so they pushed the dim shape ahead of them till they got outside Kum
Kale. They then went full astern, and emptied the after-tanks, which
brought the bows down, and in this posture rose to the surface, when
"the rush of water from the screws together with the sternway gathered
allowed the mine to fall clear of the vessel."
Now a fool, said Dr. Johnson, would have tried to describe that.