MORE SAILING-SHIP FIGHTS
If, in accordance with the delightful legend, Drake during the
recent war had heard the beating of his drum and had ‘quit the port
o’ Heaven,’ come back to life again in the service of his Sovereign
and country, he would assuredly have gone to sea in command of a
Q-sailing-ship. His would have been the Victoria Cross and D.S.O. with
bars, and we can see him bringing his much battered ship into Plymouth
Sound as did his spiritual descendants in the Great War. And yet, with
all the halo of his name, it is impossible to imagine that, great
seaman as he was, his deeds would be more valiant than those we are now
recording.
If we had, so to speak, put the clock back by the re-introduction
of the fighting sailing ship, it was an anachronism that was well
justified by results. More of these craft and various rigs were still
being taken up. In the spring of 1917 the topsail schooner _Dargle_ was
requisitioned, fitted out at Granton with a 4-inch and two 12-pounders,
and then sent to Lerwick, whence she operated. Similarly the ketch
_George L. Muir_ (alias _G. L. Munro_, _G.L.M._, and _Padre_), which
was accustomed to trade between Kirkwall and the Firth of Forth, was
chartered and armed with a 12-pounder.
On April 22, 1917, the 174-ton auxiliary barquentine _Gaelic_
(otherwise known as _Brig 11_, _Gobo_, and Q 22), which had been taken
up at the end of 1916, and was armed with a couple of 12-pounders, had
a very plucky fight. She had left Falmouth on the nineteenth under
the command of Lieutenant G. Irvine, R.N.R., and at 6.30 p.m. was now
48 miles south of the Old Head of Kinsale, steering S.E. under all
fore-and-aft sail. It was a fine, clear day, the sea was calm, there
was little wind, but the ship was making about 2 knots under sail and
starboard motor. It was a quiet Sunday evening: one of those gentle
spring days which came gladly to the Irish coast after the long nights
and continuous gales of the dark winter. The watch, consisting of four
men, were all aloft getting in the square sails, when one of them
hailed the deck that he could see a submarine about four points on the
starboard bow. She was distant about 5,000 yards to the southward and
steering to the N.W. at slow speed.
Hands were called down from aloft immediately, and action stations
sounded on the alarm gong. The enemy began the tactics of keeping
well away from the ship and firing shell after shell, of which six
hit the _Gaelic_, killing two of the deckhands and wounding four,
besides putting the port motor out of action and seriously damaging the
rigging. For a time both vessels maintained their respective courses,
and when the enemy was bearing a couple of points abaft _Gaelic’s_
starboard beam, the sailing ship unmasked her guns and opened fire. It
was now 6.50; the enemy had already fired twenty rounds, but as soon
as the attack was returned he altered course and despatched a torpedo
at 4,000 yards. This luckily _Gaelic_ was able to avoid in time by
starboarding her helm so that the torpedo missed by about 150 yards,
passing parallel along the starboard side. _Gaelic’s_ forward gun had
now fired three shots, but her fourth hit the submarine. By a piece
of bad luck, soon after this, the firing pin of the port forward gun
broke and the gun was temporarily out of action, so _Gaelic_ had to
be brought round until the starboard guns would bear. Thus the fight
went on until 7.20 p.m., when the enemy came round under port helm
and started to move slowly away to the S.W., still firing. Another
trouble now occurred in the barquentine. One of the shells had caused
the fresh-water tank on deck to leak. This water then came through a
hole in the deck on to the starboard engine, putting it out of action,
and so with both engines useless and no wind the unfortunate _Gaelic_
could not be manœuvred, though the guns continued to bear. Firing was
maintained and two more hits were scored on the German target. About
eight o’clock the submarine ceased fire, ported his helm, headed
towards the barquentine, and ten minutes later, the range being still
4,000 yards, _Gaelic_ hit him again. This was the end of the action,
each craft having fired about 110 rounds. It seems pretty certain
that though the submarine was not sunk she was badly knocked about,
for she broke off the engagement and dived. A hand was sent aloft who
reported that he could distinctly see the submarine below making to the
south-east. _Gaelic_ did her best to follow, but by this time darkness
was rapidly setting in, so with both motors useless, sails and rigging
also in a dreadful condition, she set a course for the Old Head of
Kinsale, and at daybreak, when 10 miles short of that landfall, was
picked up by H.M. sloop _Bluebell_ and towed into Queenstown. She was
then refitted and eventually went out to the Mediterranean, being based
on Gibraltar.
Allusion has been made in another chapter to the auxiliary schooner
_Glen_ (alias _Sidney_ and _Athos_), which began her special service
on April 5, 1917, under Lieutenant R. J. Turnbull, R.N.R. On May 17
she had a most successful duel, in which she managed to sink the small
UB 39, one of those submarines about 121 feet long, and possessing
extreme surface speed of 8-1/2 knots, which, armed with one gun and
four torpedoes, used to come out from Zeebrugge, negotiate the Dover
Straits—for which she was fitted with a net-cutter at the bows—and
then operate in the English Channel. The enemy’s gun was a 22-pounder;
_Glen_ carried a 12-pounder and a 3-pounder. It was six o’clock in the
evening, and _Glen_ was about 35 miles south of the Needles, steering
north-east, close hauled on the starboard tack, the wind being E. by
S., force 4. There was a moderate sea on, and the ship was bowling
along under all sail. Suddenly out of nowhere a shot was heard, and
five minutes later could be seen the flash of a second, and UB 39 was
sighted to the southward, 2-1/2 miles away. _Glen_ therefore backed
her fore-yard, and eased away all sheets, so as to check her way. The
submarine then ceased firing, but her captain must have been one of
those less experienced men, who were characteristic of the later stages
of the war, and did foolish things; for he was indiscreet enough in
this case to close schooner, who then ‘abandoned ship.’ On came the
German and submerged when 800 yards off until only her periscope and
part of her bridge dodger were showing. Still she approached until now
she was only 200 yards distant, steering a course parallel with the
schooner on the latter’s starboard side. All this happened so quickly
that the ‘panic party’ were just leaving the ship, when UB 39 rose to
the surface just abaft the schooner’s beam, and now only 80 yards off.
For such temerity the German, who must have been amazingly credulous,
paid with his life. Lieutenant Turnbull gave the order for ‘action,’
and within five seconds the first shot from the 12-pounder was fired,
which fell over the submarine abaft the conning-tower. The enemy was
evidently quite surprised, for the hatch in the conning-tower was now
opened, and there appeared the head and shoulders of a man who seemed
dazed, and as the second 12-pounder shell came bursting on the hull
under the conning-tower this man apparently fell back down the hatch.
The submarine now commenced to dive, and as the stern rose out of the
water the third and fourth shots from the same gun burst on the after
part of the hull in the middle line, the holes made by these three
shots being plainly visible to those in the schooner. The 3-pounder had
also come into action, and out of six rounds the second shot had hit
the hull on the water-line forward of the conning-tower, the third had
hit her on the water-line under the gun, the fourth and fifth bursting
on the after part of the hull just as she was sinking, and the sixth
bursting on the water as her stern disappeared. Badly holed, leaking
from all these holes, UB 39 listed over to port towards the schooner,
vanished from sight for evermore, and then a large quantity of oil and
bubbles came to the surface. There were no survivors.
Having definitely disposed of the enemy, it would be reasonable for
the crew of the _Glen_ to feel elated; but just as UB 39 was finally
disappearing, another submarine was seen approaching about 4,000 yards
off on the starboard bow. _Glen_ opened fire and the enemy submerged,
only to reappear about 600 yards away on the port bow. _Glen_ fired
once more, and next time the submarine appeared a few minutes later on
the port quarter 1,000 yards off. This was happening while the ‘panic
party’ were being got on board again, and thus there was every risk of
being torpedoed; but _Glen_ then proceeded on a northerly course under
sail and motor, and at 7.30 p.m. a very large submarine was observed 2
miles away on the starboard beam, heading in about the same direction.
After ten minutes this submarine opened fire, then turned to pass
astern, and continued firing with both her guns, which _Glen_ answered
with both of hers. About 8 p.m. the duel ceased; the enemy disappeared
to the west on the look-out evidently for a less obstinate ship. If
you examine the positions on the chart you will realize that the enemy
submarines were evidently concentrated in mid-Channel in order to
entrap shipping coming up and down and across the English Channel. They
were so placed as to cut the lines of communication to Cherbourg and at
the same time have a good chance of bagging some liner bound up along.
This concentration at important centres was noticeable during the
submarine campaign; in fact, but a few weeks later _Glen_ was again
engaged with an enemy in the same vicinity. This was on June 25, the
exact position was 14 miles S. by W. of St. Catherine’s Point, and
the schooner was sailing close hauled on the starboard tack, heading
S.W. by S., doing her 2 knots, when she sighted a vessel apparently
under sail on her port quarter 4 miles distant. Presently this vessel
fired at her, the shot falling 1,000 yards short. This, of course,
was a submarine, and it was a not unusual thing to attempt disguise
by this means; for obviously a low-lying craft on the surface viewed
from a distance would create suspicion. But, parenthetically, it may
be mentioned that this sail device was not always carried out with
common sense, and I remember on one occasion a submarine giving himself
hopelessly away by motoring at good speed in the eye of the wind with
his sail of course shaking wildly. Such an unseamanlike act was at
once spotted by the nearest patrol, and the submarine had to dive so
hurriedly that she left the sail on the water.
In the case of _Glen_ the recognition was obvious as soon as the first
shot was fired. Several minutes later came another, which fell only
60 yards short, so _Glen_ hove-to and ‘abandoned’ ship, the enemy
continuing to fire every few minutes, but the shots fell just over. Her
seventh and eighth shots fell much closer, in fact so near that their
splash flooded the schooner’s deck, and shell splinters struck the
sails and bulwarks. _Glen_ then opened fire with both guns, but this
was a more cautious submarine, who declined to approach nearer than
4,000 yards, fired three more rounds, then submerged and made off.
The activity of the submarines during this week in the neighbourhood
of Portland Bill was most noticeable. Submarines were also stationed
in the western approaches of the English Channel. The reason for this
is not hard to appreciate, for it was on June 26, the day after the
above engagement, that the first contingent of U.S.A. troops landed in
France on the western coast. Whether the transports would be bound up
Channel to Cherbourg or Southampton, the enemy submarines were lying
in wait ready for them. And it is significant that also on June 26 the
Q-sailing-ship _Gaelic_ sighted a submarine at the western entrance of
the English Channel and had a short duel with her.
On July 2 _Gaelic_ had another indecisive duel, and on the tenth _Glen_
(now commanded by Sub-Lieutenant K. Morris, R.N.R.) once more was in
action. This time she was further down Channel, about 45 miles S.W. of
Portland Bill. In this incident the enemy fired several rifle-shots
at the panic party rowing in the boat. An officer appeared at the
conning-tower presently, hailed this rowing boat, and in good English
ordered her to come alongside. The boat began to do so, but just then
something seemed suddenly to startle the officer, and he disappeared
into the conning-tower. _Glen_ opened fire, and the submarine—one of
the UC type—submerged. She was not sunk, but she had been damaged, and
Sub-Lieutenant Morris was awarded the D.S.C.
We saw just now that submarines were very fond of hanging about on
the approach to Cherbourg. There was a sound reason for this. The
coal-fields of France were in the hands of the enemy, consequently
it fell to us to keep France supplied. From February, 1917, a system
was organized which was the real beginning of the convoy method soon
afterwards adopted with such beneficial results to our shipping. This
embryonic organization was known as the ‘F.C.T.’—French Coal-Trade
Traffic. The ships would load coal up the Bristol Channel and then
sail independently round to Weymouth Bay. Having thus collected, they
were sailed across to Cherbourg together in a group, protection being
afforded by trawlers during daylight and moonlight hours only. As one
looked at this heterogeneous collection of craft, some of them of great
age, lying at anchor off Weymouth Harbour, they seemed distinctly a
curious lot; but there was a great dearth of shipping at that time, and
any old vessel that could carry coal and go ahead was worth her weight
in gold. The system was found most successful, and other group sailings
on definite routes, such as Falmouth-Brest and Dover-Dunkirk, were
instituted.
The next development was to have one or two Q-ships among the convoys,
for the most obvious of reasons, and especially well astern of the
convoy, so that the enemy might take them for stragglers and sink them
before any of the escort could turn back and help. Then came a still
further development, which had been in the minds of many naval officers
for a long time. Since there was such a scarcity of tonnage available
for general purposes, why not let the Q-ship, instead of carrying
ballast, be loaded with a proper cargo? She could easily carry this
without interfering with her fighting ability: in fact, she would be
trimmed more normally, and rather increase than decrease her power of
deception. As to the possibility of secrecy being lost whilst loading
in port, the armament was very cleverly concealed and only a little
organization was necessary to prevent her true character being bruited
about. The main difficulty would be when in the presence of neutral
shipping in that particular harbour, but this problem was capable of
solution.
Thus it happened now that in many cases the Q-ship became also a
trader. Be it noted, her character was not that of an armed merchant
ship which is armed only defensively, but a properly commissioned
warship carrying cargo as well as her offensive armament. Now, one of
these craft was the two-masted 179-ton brigantine _Probus_ (alias Q 30,
_Ready_, _Thirza_, _Elixir_). She had been purchased by the Admiralty
in 1915, and fitted with an auxiliary motor. Then, based on Granton,
she had worked as a decoy in the North Sea.
In May, 1917, having done excellent work as a pure decoy, we find her
as a decoy-trader. Having loaded up with coal at Granton, she left
there on May 4, and duly arrived at Treguier. From there she proceeded
to Swansea with a cargo of pit-props, which were much needed by the
Welsh coal mines, seeing that our customary supply from Scandinavia,
via the North Sea, was so endangered at that time. From Swansea
_Probus_, who was armed with two 12-pounders and two 6-pounders, sailed
round to Falmouth, and at 3.30 on the afternoon of June 20 she set sail
for Morlaix in company with twelve sailing ships and the one steamship
escort, the armed trawler _Harlech Castle_. Think of it in these modern
days: a dozen sailing vessels coming out past St. Anthony’s Lighthouse!
Truly this war has shown how history goes on repeating itself. Who
would have thought that sailing-ship convoys, which in other wars used
to assemble and leave Falmouth, would ever be witnessed again?
Now, to control a dozen sail you must have sea-room, so the convoy
was arranged thus: A mile ahead of the first sailing ship steamed the
trawler, then came the twelve ships spread over 3 miles, and then 4
miles astern of the last ship, and looking just as a straggler would
be, sailed the _Probus_. There was thus a distance of 8 miles between
her and the escort trawler. Most of a day passed before anything
occurred. At 2.15 p.m. on June 21 _Probus_, still astern of the convoy,
was about 23 miles south-west of the Start and heading on a course S.E.
by S. The wind was S.W., force 3, and she was doing about 4 knots
through the water, when she observed what appeared to be a ketch-rigged
vessel, steering the same course, 4 miles away on the starboard
quarter; but from the rapidity with which the bearing altered, it was
soon obvious that the ketch was not under sail alone. At 2.30 p.m.
the ‘ketch’ proved her submarine identity by opening fire, the first
shot falling 10 yards clear of the brigantine’s beam. _Probus_ then
hove-to, the crew went to action stations, and the boat was got ready
to be launched, while the submarine kept up a rapid fire from about
4,000 yards, shells falling unpleasantly close. By now _Probus_ was
heading about S.W. with fore-yards aback, and, owing to the light
wind, was making a stern board. Then her head fell round slowly to the
west. The enemy was now bearing about W. to W.S.W., firing rapidly,
and heading to the south-east so as to cross the brigantine’s bows.
It was a beautifully clear summer’s afternoon, and you could see the
convoy and the smoke from the escorting trawler quite easily. After the
submarine had maintained a continuous long-range fire for ten minutes,
_Probus_ ran up the White Ensign, and at 3,500 yards opened fire with
her starboard 12-pounder. The first round fell 500 yards short, but the
crew of the submarine’s gun hurriedly left their station and made for
the conning-tower. The second shot seemed to be a hit, for the enemy,
lying across the brigantine’s bows, stopped, and a large cloud of smoke
went up, and he temporarily ceased fire.
_Probus_ then went about on the other tack, and the enemy took
advantage of this to resume firing, while shots began to fall all
round; but the port 12-pounder of the British ship now came into
action, and the fourth shot was certainly another hit, for it
dismantled the German’s sails and mast, and raised a cloud of smoke
from the fore part of the conning-tower. Shelling continued, and the
enemy was compelled to submerge, _Probus’s_ parting shot hitting him
on the top of the conning-tower. It was now about 3.30 p.m., and
nothing was seen of the German until a quarter of an hour later, when
he was sighted 6 miles away approaching _Probus_. He had probably been
stopping his shell-holes, and was now ready to give the sailing ship
the knock-out blow; but the armed trawler, with its fishermen crew
eager to have a hand in the fight, was by this time making towards the
submarine, and this compelled the German to break off the engagement
and scurry to the north-east.
Unfortunately this duel demonstrated yet again the great weakness
of the sailing ship as a man-of-war. In the olden days, when the
swift-moving galley fought the sailing carrack or caravel, the galley
was able to press home her attack if the weather fell light, and left
the other ship rolling helpless in the calm, with yards and tackle
grievously creaking and chafing. The submarine is the modern galley,
and the Q-sailing-ship is the carrack’s counterpart. As long as there
was a good breeze she could be manœuvred, and if there was a hard
breeze it would make it difficult for the enemy’s gunnery. _Probus_
was practically becalmed, so the submarine could run rings round her,
and the sailing ship could not be worked up to windward. Of course,
on these and similar occasions troubles seldom come singly; for when
the brigantine _Probus_ made a stern board her starboard propeller
had fouled the log-line, so this was out of action. However, _Probus_
resumed her original course, followed the convoy, and in spite of the
light airs duly arrived at Morlaix on June 25.
[Illustration: Q-SAILING SHIP “FRESH HOPE”
This was a 900-ton three-masted schooner which was requisitioned in the
last year of the war. She had previously been the United States “Edith
E. Cummins.”]
[Illustration: Q-SHIP “RECORD REIGN”
This apparently peaceful ketch was one of those armed mystery sailing
ships which came into service during the last year of the war.
To face p. 188]
Although the submarine escaped, _Probus_ had succeeded in luring him
from the convoy, and had sent him right away. These sailing Q-ships
became, in fact, one of the best types of escort for other sailing
vessels in convoy, and thus allowed armed steam patrol vessels to
be employed elsewhere. Looking in no way different from the rest of
the convoy, but fitted with concealed wireless and, later, even with
howitzer armament, they had a much better chance than the armed trawler
or destroyer of enticing the submarine. Apart altogether from these
important considerations, the scheme of carrying freights was a big
financial success, and _Probus_ paid for herself over and over again.
It was nothing unusual for her to earn over £1,000 a month. Naturally
enough, then, we find other sailing ships being taken up for this dual
work. In November, 1917, the 900-ton three-masted fore-and-aft schooner
_Fresh Hope_, lying at Granton, was requisitioned. She had formerly
been the United States’ _Edith E. Cummins_, and in a fresh breeze could
log her 12 knots. Known also as the _Iroquois_, she was fitted out
and commissioned by the first week of April, 1918, and served until
the Armistice. Other sailing vessels were thus commissioned in 1918,
specially selected as being able to carry each at least one 4-inch and
two 12-pounders, and to be fitted with auxiliary engines. These were
the _Rentoul_, _Imogene_, _Viola_, _Cymric_, and _Elizabeth_. They were
actually armed with a 7·5-inch howitzer, in addition to the three guns
just mentioned. _Imogene_ was a barquentine, and had been carrying
china clay from Fowey to St. Malo. _Rentoul_ was also a barquentine,
_Viola_ was a schooner; _Cymric_ was a three-masted schooner.
By the end of September there were no fewer than nineteen decoy ships
which had been fitted out in the one port of Granton, and nine of
these were sailing ships. It will therefore be of interest to show how
in this month such vessels were being employed in their double capacity
of warship plus freighter. The barquentine _Merops_ was discharging a
cargo at Runcorn preparatory to loading coal for Cherbourg. The topsail
schooner _Dargle_ was discharging a cargo at Lerwick, and then loading
herrings for Farnborough. The _Fresh Hope_ was about to leave Liverpool
for Belfast, where she would load with cork ballast for Halifax, Nova
Scotia. The _Baron Rose_, another 900-ton schooner, was about to leave
Newcastle with cork ballast for Halifax also. The barquentine _Rentoul_
was on her way with coal to Cherbourg, the barquentine _Imogene_
was on her way with coal for Lerwick. The topsail schooner _Viola_
(alias _Vereker_) left Granton with coal for St. Valery-en-Caux. The
iron schooner _Cymric_ was taking coal from Granton to Cherbourg.
Another three-masted schooner was carrying coal from Granton to St.
Valery-en-Caux. In addition, there were a dozen steam craft from this
same port acting as Q-ships. In another part of the British Isles our
old friend _Helgoland_ had yet another fight with a submarine. This
was on July 11, 1917, in the neighbourhood of the Scillies, and this
was another occasion when two ships with sails shelled each other,
but unfortunately it was another of those calm days, and hazy. At the
outset the enemy’s shells passed over the _Helgoland’s_ fore-t’gallant
yard as the latter was just drifting with the tide. Then the motors
were started, and at 500 yards both guns and the Lewis guns gave the
submarine a warm time, so that she was seriously damaged and had to
escape by submerging.
[Illustration: Q-SAILING SHIP “RENTOUL”
This barquentine was commissioned as a Q-ship in March, 1918, was well
armed, but was also employed simultaneously in carrying coal to France.]
[Illustration: Q-SAILING SHIP “RENTOUL”
The crew of the 4-inch gun.
To face p. 190]
Thus, all round our coasts, in the North Sea, English Channel, Irish
Sea, and Atlantic: from as far north as the Orkneys and Shetlands to
as far south as the Bay of Biscay, and as far west as the coast of
North America, these Q-sailing-ships were doing their job of work. The
fitting out, the manning of these craft and of their guns, put a great
strain on our manhood, already greatly diminished by the demands of our
Armies abroad and munition makers at home. Nor could the Navy proper
and the Auxiliary Patrol Force afford to be weakened. On the contrary,
destroyers and light cruisers were being built and commissioned at
a rapid rate: whilst more minesweepers, more trawlers and drifters,
were daily consuming scores of men. Add to this the fact that other
men as gunners were required in great numbers—for practically every
British merchant ship became defensively armed—and one can see how
important to our island nation and the overseas Empire is the existence
of peace-time shipping, with all that it connotes—steamships, liners,
tramps, colliers, trawlers, drifters, yachts, fishing smacks, it does
not matter. From all these, and from the few full-rigged ships and
sailing coasters, we had to draw our supplies of personnel, and it
still takes longer to train a man into a sailor than into a military
unit.
Never before, not even in Armada days, and probably never again, could
such a call come from the fleet in being to the fleet of merchantmen.
The sailing ship has had many centuries of usefulness as a fighting
ship and a cargo carrier, and if she is being gradually killed by the
mechanical ship she is dying hard. Apparently in neither capacity has
she quite finished her fascinating and illustrious history.