Now we will take E14 on various work, either alone or as flagship of a
squadron composed of herself and Lieutenant-Commander Nasmith's boat,
E11. Hers was a busy midsummer, and she came to be intimate with all
sort of craft--such as the two-funnelled gunboat off Sar Kioi, who
"fired at us, and missed as usual"; hospital ships going back and
forth unmolested to Constantinople; "the gunboat which fired at me on
Sunday," and other old friends, afloat and ashore.
When the crew of the Turkish brigantine full of stores got into their
boats by request, and then "all stood up and cursed us," E14 did not
lose her temper, even though it was too rough to lie alongside the
abandoned ship. She told Acting Lieutenant R.W. Lawrence, of the Royal
Naval Reserve, to swim off to her, which he did, and after a "cursory
search"--Who can be expected to Sherlock Holmes for hours with nothing
on?--set fire to her "with the aid of her own matches and paraffin
oil."
Then E14 had a brawl with a steamer with a yellow funnel, blue top and
black band, lying at a pier among dhows. The shore took a hand in the
game with small guns and rifles, and, as E14 manoeuvred about the
roadstead "as requisite" there was a sudden unaccountable explosion
which strained her very badly. "I think," she muses, "I must have
caught the moorings of a mine with my tail as I was turning, and
exploded it. It is possible that it might have been a big shell
bursting over us, but I think this unlikely, as we were 30 feet at the
time." She is always a philosophical boat, anxious to arrive at the
reason of facts, and when the game is against her she admits it
freely.
There was nondescript craft of a few hundred tons, who "at a distance
did not look very warlike," but when chased suddenly played a couple
of six-pounders and "got off two dozen rounds at us before we were
under. Some of them were only about 20 yards off." And when a wily
steamer, after sidling along the shore, lay up in front of a town she
became "indistinguishable from the houses," and so was safe because we
do not löwestrafe open towns.
Sailing dhows full of grain had to be destroyed. At one rendezvous,
while waiting for E11, E14 dealt with three such cases and then "towed
the crews inshore and gave them biscuits, beef, and rum and water, as
they were rather wet." Passenger steamers were allowed to proceed,
because they were "full of people of both sexes," which is an
unkultured way of doing business.
Here is another instance of our insular type of mind. An empty dhow is
passed which E14 was going to leave alone, but it occurs to her that
the boat looks "rather deserted," and she fancies she sees two heads
in the water. So she goes back half a mile, picks up a couple of badly
exhausted men, frightened out of their wits, gives them food and
drink, and puts them aboard their property. Crews that jump overboard
have to be picked up, even if, as happened in one case, there are
twenty of them and one of them is a German bank manager taking a
quantity of money to the Chanak Bank. Hospital ships are carefully
looked over as they come and go, and are left to their own devices;
but they are rather a nuisance because they force E14 and others to
dive for them when engaged in stalking warrantable game. There were a
good many hospital ships, and as far as we can make out they all
played fair. E11 boarded one and "reported everything satisfactory."