Ever since the 18th of February, 1915, when a blockade of the seas
round the British Isles was declared by Germany, seamen navigating in
the waters of the war-zone have had a most anxious time in consequence
of the activity of the German submarine and their callous methods in
dealing with defenceless merchant vessels.
Our ship, the _Anglo-Californian_, had made a number of voyages across
the Atlantic, and had so far been fortunate enough to get through the
war-zone each time without encountering any of the enemy's submarines.
We had always congratulated ourselves on our good fortune, but on the
voyage I am about to describe our luck seemed to have deserted us.
It was the morning of the 4th of July, about eight o'clock. I had
almost completed my watch and was on the point of being relieved by
the third officer when, taking a final look round the horizon before
leaving the bridge, I noticed the small cloud of blue smoke on the
surface of the water about a mile away on our port beam.
For the moment I was rather puzzled as to what it could be, there being
no craft of any description in sight from which it could come. I was
not long kept in doubt, however, for as the cloud of smoke gradually
lifted I caught sight of the conning-tower and long, low hull of a
submarine, which I knew at once must be a German, as our under-sea
craft were not operating in this vicinity.
She had apparently just come to the surface after locating us with her
periscope, and, seeing everything clear, immediately gave chase.
Ordering the man at the wheel to put the helm over, thus bringing the
submarine directly astern of us, I informed the captain of the presence
of the enemy. He immediately came on the bridge and proceeded to take
all necessary steps to try and outrace the submarine. We were quite
unarmed, so flight was our only chance.
The chief engineer was summoned and told to raise all the steam he
possibly could and drive the ship for all she was worth, and the extra
speed that was very quickly attained was convincing proof of the way in
which he and his staff carried out these orders.
Almost immediately after sighting the submarine the captain ordered
the wireless operator to send out the "S.O.S." call for help. This was
promptly answered, and we were informed that assistance was being sent
us with all possible speed.
The captain, myself, the second officer (who was the captain's son),
and the third officer were now on the upper bridge, anxiously watching
our pursuer through the glasses. To our dismay we noticed that she was
slowly but surely gaining on us.
It was not until a quarter of nine that she first opened fire, this
presumably being a warning shot, as it fell wide on our port side. The
captain took heed of the summons, however; he merely smiled and gave
orders to telephone down to the engineers to "keep her going" as hard
as they could.
A second warning shot was fired, falling clear of the ship on the
starboard bow, but this also was unheeded.
Those on the submarine, observing that our speed was increasing
and that no notice was taken of their shots, evidently came to the
conclusion that we were going to make a run for it, and forthwith they
commenced to fire shell after shell at us. At first they tried to bring
down the wireless apparatus, so as to prevent us from getting into
communication with the patrol vessels, but this, as I have previously
stated, we had already done, and were now in continuous communication
with them, giving them our now rapidly-changing positions.
Unfortunately for us, however, the patrols were some distance away, and
there was not much chance of their being able to reach us for two to
three hours. What would happen meanwhile was hard to say; certainly our
chances of getting away from our pursuer looked very small indeed.