WE LEAVE HOME WATERS
Nobly, nobly Cape Saint Vincent to the north-west died away;
Sunset ran, one glorious blood-red, reeking into Cadiz Bay;
Bluish ’mid the burning water, full in face Trafalgar lay;
In the dimmest north-east distance, dawned Gibraltar grand and gray;
“Here and here did England help me,—how can I help England?—say.”
R. BROWNING.
NEXT day we took on 400 tons of coal, and in the evening weighed and
proceeded to Portland, where we arrived next morning.
That evening the whole of the 2nd Fleet arrived and anchored, and on
the following morning the second division of our squadron went out
again for sub-calibre firing, the first division remaining at anchor.
In the evening the Padre came on board to join. The second division
returned to harbour at 4 o’clock, and at about 7 p.m. we received a
signal ordering all ships in harbour to raise steam for fifteen knots
and proceed to sea as soon as they were ready.
On our ship the hoisting in of all boats was commenced at once. The
picket boat came in without a hitch, but, when the pinnace was hoisted
clear of the water the after leg of the slings parted and she had to
be lowered back. As we were in a hurry the Commander then took control
of operations, and had a 3½-inch wire hawser rove three times round
the stern of the boat, and then made fast to the ring at the head of
the slings. When she was once more lifted clear of the water her stern
was heard to crack, but we were already delaying the fleet and no time
could be spared to lower her down again and readjust the hawser, so,
though the stern continued to crack and give, and finally crushed in
like an egghell, the boat was hoisted and lowered into the crutches,
and we proceeded to sea with the others.
This incident was pure bad luck and not due to faulty seamanship—had
the pinnace been a new boat the stern would easily have withstood
the strain, but she was nearly twenty years old and her planks were
weakened by age.
On the next day the whole fleet did big gun practice in the Channel.
Down in the Fore T.S. the sound was considerably deadened, but the
violent vibrations and the increase of air pressure following on each
discharge had a most jarring and unpleasant effect on the ear-drums.
The ships did not fire all together, but each in succession had a
“run” of one hour. When we had finished our “run” all of us midshipmen
and cadets went on deck to watch the firing of the flagship of our
division, which was just ahead of us. Although the actual cordite
charge is practically smokeless, the silk bag in which the sticks of
explosive are encased gives off a dense light-brown smoke, which often
hides the whole turret from view, and the flash of the explosion, even
in daylight, causes a vivid glare almost like lightning. The gases do
not burst into flame until they have passed some ten feet from the
muzzle and come in contact with the oxygen in the atmosphere, when they
flare up in a fraction of a second. Occasionally a gun will blow a huge
smoke ring which, gyrating rapidly, ascends to a considerable height,
gradually expanding until it is dispersed by the air. This phenomenon
was very noticeable later on in the Dardanelles.
The following day we did fleet tactics (pronounced “Tattics”) off the
Isle of Wight. These consist of manœuvres executed in columns. Each
successive evolution is signalled by the flagship and is performed as
soon as the whole fleet has repeated the signal and the flagship has
hauled down the flags indicating the same. Throughout each operation
the ships must keep within a specified number of cables’ lengths of
each other.
That evening found us off Beachy Head, and having finished tactics we
headed for Portland, proceeding in divisions in line ahead, columns
disposed abeam to starboard. We dropped anchor in Portland the
following day. Then the colliers came alongside and the whole fleet
coaled.
As we had not yet done our second run of sub-calibre firing we left
harbour next morning, and spent the day at sea for purposes of same.
During our absence the whole _personnel_ of the 2nd Fleet and the
remaining division of our squadron went for a route march.
At 4 o’clock we returned to harbour, anchored, and took in coal until
our bunkers were filled to 97 per cent. Next morning our division
landed its ships’ companies for a route march at the Camber. The men
fell in in marching kit under their respective officers, and according
to the seniority of their ships in the Fleet. (Seniority of ships is
determined by the seniority of their commanding officers.) When all
were present, and had been duly reported to the officer in command,
the band of the flagship led off with a lively march tune, closely
followed by her ship’s company. Then the other ships’ companies
followed in succession, and soon the whole 1500 men were proceeding
along the white dusty road from Portland to Weymouth. Presently an
order to “March at ease!” and “Carry on smoking!” was passed down the
line, and the men produced their pipes, lit up, and were soon laughing,
chattering, and singing as they marched, keeping, however, always
in correct sections of four. On entering Weymouth the order “‘Shun!
Out pipes!” was given, and the whole column swung along in absolute
silence, broken only by an occasional order, and the tramp, tramp,
tramp of the heavy marching boots on the dusty road.
We marched through the town to the pier, where we embarked on penny
steamboats, commandeered for the purpose, which conveyed us back to the
Fleet in Portland.
On the following day special steamers were run to Weymouth for the
convenience of those who wished to go ashore; and, our leave-book
having been signed, all of us junior officers who were not on duty
forthwith donned our best clothes and embarked for the beach.
On arrival the first thing we did was to storm the well-known
establishment of Messrs. Gieve, Matthews, and Seagrove, Naval
Outfitters (better known perhaps as just “Gieves’s”), and there order
tin uniform cases, as already those silly kit-bags had proved most
inadequate, as well as highly destructive to clothes. Not much chance
of a swanky crease down your best trousers if you have to keep them in
a kit-bag! You’ll get the creases all right—plenty of them, but they
won’t be in the right place. The Navy is particular about these things,
and does not allow slackness in detail even in war-time. It’s the same
in the Army—our men’s anxiety to wash and shave whenever possible
has been a source of some astonishment to our Allies; but somehow
cleanliness and neatness seem to be an essential part of a Briton’s
makeup—the outward and visible sign of a heart for any fate.
When we had finished our business at Gieves’s we went round the town;
looked in at cinema shows, bought many small necessaries we needed, and
devoured eggs, cakes, and cups of chocolate at various confectioners’.
Leave was up at 8 o’clock and we reembarked on the steamer. Several
of the seamen had imbibed more strong drink than they could carry,
and three marines had a free fight on deck surrounded by sympathetic
friends. One of the combatants on being “downed” violated Queensberry
rules by kicking his opponents in the stomach, whereupon the victims of
this outrage determined to throw him in the “ditch.” (“Ditch” or “pond”
is naval slang for the sea.)
This resolution was heartily applauded by the audience, and would
undoubtedly have been put into execution had not the steamer just at
this juncture run alongside their ship. Still fighting they disappeared
up the gangway. Five minutes later we drew alongside our own ship, and,
having reported ourselves to the officer of the watch, we went down to
dinner.
Two more days were spent in harbour, and several of the uniform cases
arrived, but as yet no sign of mine. On the evening of the second
day we weighed anchor and proceeded to Devonport, arriving there
next morning. By this time our damaged pinnace had been sufficiently
patched up for a short journey, and it was hoisted out and towed ashore
carrying a demand for another.
We then coaled.
The light cruiser “——,” which we had previously seen in dry dock,
being now completed, was lying alongside one of the wharves, looking
very workmanlike in her fresh grey paint.
Presently our new pinnace arrived, and as soon as she was hoisted
inboard we went to sea again.
Sunset on the following evening found us off Falmouth, where we sighted
five old two-funnelled cruisers. We stopped and waited while the
flagship sent her steamboat to the cruiser’s flagship for dispatches,
and then we relieved them on the Lizard patrol.
Soon the cruisers were on the horizon steaming towards Devonport, and,
spreading out from the rest of our division, we took the second billet
from Land’s End, and patrolled up and down all that night. From time to
time we caught a glimpse of the loom of the Lizard light, and on this
we kept station, being unable to see any of our consorts.
Our present duty was to stop any ships proceeding up Channel and to
examine their papers and cargo. Any ships containing contraband of war
of whatever description were promptly escorted into Falmouth Harbour
and handed over to the port authorities, who detained or confiscated
them according to the requirements of the case. Fane, one of our
midshipmen, was one of the boarding officers, and very quaint and
warlike he looked! He was quite a little chap, and was armed with a
huge cutlass and a revolver nearly as big as himself!
On the next day we stopped several tramps and cargo-boats, but
discovered nothing suspicious. Two days later, however, the boarding
officers were summoned at 4 a.m. and disappeared on deck armed to the
teeth, and at 6, when the rest of us were just turning out, they came
clattering down the hatchway with the news that we had caught a big
Dutch liner called the _Gebria_, and that she had 400 German reservists
on board.
As soon as we were dressed we dashed up on deck to have a look at her.
She was a large ship with two yellow funnels, with a light blue band
round each, and must have displaced quite 20,000 tons. She was lying
about a mile away on our starboard quarter. We put a prize crew on
board and proudly escorted her into Falmouth, where we handed her over
to the port authorities.
After this we coaled, and the same evening put to sea. Just as we
were clearing the harbour a torpedo-boat signalled us asking to
come alongside, and stating that she had on board a subaltern of
marines for us. We stopped both engines, and a few seconds later the
torpedo-boat lay-to about a hundred yards off. The second cutter was
lowered and pulled across to her and returned shortly afterwards with
the marine officer. Then the cutter was hoisted to the davits, the ship
got under way again and we went to night-defence stations.
When we were about two miles clear of the harbour we sighted on our
starboard quarter the lights of a steamer which was rapidly overhauling
us.
We challenged twice according to code, and then signalled her to stop.
She returned no reply, but continued on her course. As by this time she
had passed us and was some way ahead, the Captain gave the order to
fire a 12-pounder blank cartridge. The first gun misfired and the crew
moved away to the second and loaded it, leaving the cartridge that had
misfired in the other gun in case it should go off later. Sure enough,
just as the second gun fired, the first went off on its own, and the
two together produced a row almost like a turret-gun firing. This,
however, only made the suspect increase her speed, so our Captain rang
down to the engine-room “Full speed ahead!” and we again gave chase.
But she had the legs of us. As we did not overhaul her the Captain
ordered another blank to be fired, and telephoned the engine-room to
get every possible ounce of speed out of our old ship. The third blank
failed to stop the runaway and a shell was then fired across her bows,
but _still_ she did not stop, and since she was now out of range we
were reluctantly compelled to abandon the chase.
At this time all we midshipmen and cadets were not doing night watches,
and at 10 o’clock we had turned in as usual, but at 11.30 we were
awakened by Browne, who told us all to get on deck at once as Night
Action had been sounded off half-an-hour before, and he wanted to
know why on earth we hadn’t turned out at 11 when the sentry had
called him. As a matter of fact the sentry had only awakened half of
us, and those had gone up on deck leaving the rest still sleeping in
blissful ignorance of the summons. However we were all feeling very
tired, and after consulting among ourselves decided that we were not
going up on deck for _anybody_—and, as they had managed without us
for half-an-hour, they could jolly well manage without us for the
remainder of the watch! With which incipient mutiny we turned over
and went to sleep again. But not for _long_! In a very few minutes
the Gunnery Lieutenant appeared on the scene, and brusquely rousing
us up told us to dress at once, fall in on the quarter-deck, and wait
there till he came. A few minutes after we were fallen in he came aft
through the battery and asked us what the devil we meant by not turning
out when Browne told us to, and went on to give us a proper dressing
down, ending with the disquieting remark that he would probably have to
report us to the Commander. Then telling us we were to keep the whole
of the middle watch as a punishment, he sent us off to our searchlights.
We were all somewhat nervous as to what might be the consequence of
our silly little show of independence, but it is to be presumed that
“Guns,” in consideration of our youth and inexperience, kept the matter
to himself. Anyway we heard no more about it, and having duly kept
the middle watch, went back to our interrupted slumbers—a thoroughly
chastened quintette. In the light of a fuller knowledge of the
strictness of naval discipline I know we were jolly lucky to get off so
lightly.
The following day was spent at sea, and, save for the stopping of an
occasional tramp or small sailing vessel, passed without incident; but
the next evening we sighted a large German four-masted barque and gave
chase at once, and we were just drawing within signalling distance of
her when we received a wireless message ordering us to proceed at once
to Gibraltar.
Reluctantly abandoning the chase of our prize we signalled to _H.M.S.
“——,”_ which was patrolling on our starboard side, to capture her,
after which we went south full speed ahead for Gib.
I know I should here give dates, but since all my diaries lie with the
good ship “——” at the bottom of the sea, and I am reconstructing this
narrative from memory, I find it a little difficult to be certain of
actual dates. However, it would be on, or about, the 9th of September,
or thereabouts, when we were ordered abroad.
Great excitement prevailed in the gun-room, as this was our first trip
out of home waters.
The dreaded Bay of Biscay belied its sinister reputation, for we had a
very calm passage, and two days later sighted Cape St. Vincent. Here
we saw several whales frolicking about and blowing quite close to the
ship. We passed so near to the Cape that we could distinguish the
figures of the lighthouse keepers on the roof of their house.
In the afternoon we sighted the smoke of several steamers right ahead
of us, and prepared forthwith to go to action stations in case they
should prove to be hostile war-ships. However, on closer inspection,
they turned out to be a convoy of our own troops from India, bound for
Southampton.
The following noon we entered the Straits, and soon afterwards turned
into the Bay of Gibraltar. Warping through the narrow entrance by means
of wire hawsers, we arrived in the outer basin, where we were secured
head and stern alongside one of the coaling wharves.
The sun was sinking, and the town was already grey in the shadow, but
the summit of the famous Rock was flooded with rosy light.
On the afternoon of the next day the captain of marines kindly
volunteered to take us to a good shop he knew of where we could buy
some white-duck suits, which we were likely to need in the near future.
Arrived at the shop in question, the proprietor thereof informed
us, with much shrugging of shoulders, waving of hands, and similar
gesticulations expressive of regret, that he had no ducks in stock, but
that at another shop a little farther on we might be able to obtain
them. The owner of the place indicated could only produce some very
badly cut civilian duck suits, and asked exorbitant prices for the
same. With these we had to make shift, and after much bargaining each
of us managed to procure two pairs of trousers and three coats for the
sum of £4.
We then proceeded to the barracks, where after some delay we managed to
secure fairly cheap sun helmets.
It being now only just 3 o’clock we decided to ring up the ship from
the dockyard gate, and ask for leave for the rest of the afternoon.
After trying for half-an-hour to get on, and then to drive the nature
of our request into the thick head of the signalman at the other end
of the ’phone, we thought it would be best to return to the ship to
obtain the required permission. On the way, however, we were lucky
enough to meet our Captain, who asked if we had managed to get our
white suits, and on our replying in the affirmative he inquired what we
intended doing with ourselves for the rest of the afternoon. We told
him that we were on our way back to the ship to ask the Commander for
leave, whereupon he at once told us we might have leave until 7, and
having advised us to try a bathe in Rosia Bay, he passed on.
Joyfully returning to the town, we hired three of the funny little
cabriolets, which are practically the only public vehicles to be had,
and drove off to the bathing-place.
Rosia Bay is a small inlet with very deep water, and is surrounded by
walls to keep out sharks. It is reached by a long spiral staircase
which winds round an old tower and through an ancient stone archway.
A broad stone promenade runs round the bay, and at the extreme
end of this, on the left-hand side, are situated the gentlemen’s
dressing-rooms. Here an old Spaniard, locally known as “José,” hires
out towels and bathing-dresses. Several wooden rafts are moored in
the bay for the convenience of bathers, and there are also two or
three spring-boards as well as a water-chute. The water is cold, even
in September; but the sun was so hot that we were able to lie on the
stone and bask in its rays until we got warm again and were ready for
another plunge. After an hour’s swimming we split up into parties of
twos and threes and returned to the town for tea. Fruit hawkers dogged
our steps, and but little persuasion was required to induce us to buy
the delicious grapes, pears, and peaches they pressed upon our notice.
After tea we walked through the town and bought curios at the quaint
little native stalls and shops.
That night forty boys from the Naval Barracks joined the ship, and,
there being nowhere else for them to sleep, they were told to sling
their hammocks in the gun-room flat, while we, its rightful occupants,
were ordered to go up above to the ward-room flat and the Captain’s
lobby. At first we were mightily indignant at thus being turned out
of our sleeping quarters, but later on, when we got into the Tropics,
we saw that we had the advantage, for it was ever so much cooler up
there, and we were correspondingly thankful. After dinner we went
over the brow on to the wharf, and thence on to the sea-wall, which
was hidden from the ship by a high brick parapet, which ran along
behind the coaling sheds, and here we settled down to smoke and fish.
Presently two sentries came along. On seeing us they stopped and
palavered together for some minutes. Then one of them advanced towards
us and shouted out, “Halt! Who goes there?” Considering that we were
all quietly sitting down, this seemed remarkably silly; but I suppose
he was a raw recruit, and just brought out the regular challenge which
he had learned by heart, and never thought of varying it to suit the
occasion! However, we informed him that we were naval officers and not
German spies, and he retired seemingly much relieved in his mind.
Leave was given again on the following afternoon, and after another
bathe in Rosia Bay we had a look at the surrounding country, went a
little way up the Rock, returned to the town for tea, and so on board
again at 7.
Early next morning we bathed from the ship’s side, and, after
breakfast, coaled; and that afternoon we warped out.
After rounding Europa Point our course was set parallel to the African
coast; and then we steamed away, our wake crimsoned by the rays of the
setting sun.
The morning found us still in sight of land, but gradually it faded
away on our starboard bow until, on the following morning, the
coast-line had vanished and we steamed along on a glassy sea and
beneath a cloudless sky. I remember I had the forenoon watch, and from
my post on the bridge I could see the flying fish leaping away on
either side as our ship forged her way through the deep blue waters,
and a shark appeared on our port bow, swimming lazily alongside, his
dorsal fin every now and then breaking the surface into tiny ripples.
The water was so clear that every detail of his long, wicked-looking
body was distinctly visible.
That evening we sighted Cape Blanco, and shortly after dark passed
between the lights of Cape Bon and the southern point of Sicily.