_THE MEETING WITH THE "CHOISING"_
With a light wind astern, the _Ayesha_ slowly made her way out from
among the Dutch islands, and toward three o'clock in the morning had
passed beyond the limits of Dutch territorial waters. I had but just
turned in when Lieutenant Schmidt, whose watch it was, waked me with
the words: "Captain, a German boat is coming alongside."
As I knew that we were then well out at sea, I growled out: "Man, don't
talk nonsense! Let me sleep!"
But he assured me again that it was as he had said, and would not be
frightened off even by the most violent protests. At the same time I
heard loud voices from outside crying: "There she is, there she is! We
have caught her after all."
As I came on deck, I saw a little row-boat with a few people in it
swiftly approaching us from out the darkness of the lingering night.
Soon one traveling case, and then another, came flying on board. Their
two owners appeared immediately afterward, and turned out to be an
officer of the reserves and a chief engineer's mate, also a reservist.
Both reported to me for duty. As we were outside of the limit of Dutch
territorial waters, there was no reason for deferring their enrolment.
Our only difficulty was to provide quarters for the officers now aboard
the _Ayesha_, as there was but the one bed, which was hardly big enough
for three. In the end, it was arranged that one officer should sleep in
the bunk in the cabin, while another chose the place on the floor under
the mess table for his bed, a resting place which was not wholly free
from disturbance, however, as the third officer, who had the watch, was
inclined to put his feet there.
By evening, a moderate, favorable breeze had taken us as far as
Seaflower Channel, with which we were well acquainted. To our surprise,
we discovered a large steamer coming toward us on an easterly
course. As there are no beacon lights on this strait, it is avoided
by steamers, most merchantmen preferring to go by way of the more
northerly route through Siberut Strait, where there are many lights.
The appearance of a steamer in this unfrequented spot was, therefore,
to say the least, rather remarkable. I strongly suspected it to be a
warship.
As quickly as possible every sail, to the very last rag we had, was
set, our course was changed hard to starboard, and, with all the speed
we could muster, we tried to get back into Dutch waters. To our great
relief, the low, palm-covered coral islands soon came into sight,
easily distinguishable by the broad white line of the surf that always
breaks on their shores. We crept as close as we dared to this line of
surf, keeping at a distance of about a thousand meters from the shore.
To anchor in this depth of water was quite impossible, for these coral
islands rise abruptly, almost perpendicularly, out of the water.
Our frame of mind was in no wise improved when suddenly our unknown
steamer began to exchange flash-light signals in secret code with some
other vessel as yet invisible to us. Soon afterward the second warship,
for it could be no other kind of vessel, steamed away toward the south,
while the other cruised back and forth through Seaflower Channel.
Unfortunately the wind died down more and more,--so much so that our
hope that by daylight we would be out of sight of the cruising steamer,
was doomed to disappointment.
It was my intention now to run in between the many small islands, to
tie the _Ayesha_ fast to the first convenient palm tree, take down
top-masts and sails, and so make it impossible to discover us from out
at sea. Then I meant to find out the nature of the ship in which we
were so much interested. The calm which set in rendered it impossible
to carry out this plan, however. At sunrise we were only a few nautical
miles distant from the warship, and hardly had the daylight revealed
to her the masts of the _Ayesha_, when she changed her course and
approached us at high speed. We were still within the limit of Dutch
territorial waters, and I had not the least desire to leave them.
Fortunately for us, the man-of-war turned out to be neither English
nor Japanese. It was the Dutch flagship, _De Zeven Provincien_. The
iron-clad followed us, always at some distance, however, until we had
left Dutch waters in our course westward. We continued to sail toward
the west, intending to keep the _Ayesha_ within the vicinity of a
certain point where we hoped to meet with some German steamer. Although
it had not been possible for us to make any definite arrangements with
any of the German vessels that were lying at Padang, nevertheless,
from the conversations that had taken place from deck to deck, their
captains had some knowledge of the course we intended to follow. We
took it for granted, therefore, that some one of these steamers would
follow us with a view of aiding us on our farther journey. So we
drifted about at sea for nearly three weeks. During a part of this
time we had rough weather, which was especially trying to our ten
pigs, for whom quarters had been put up in the bows near the capstan.
To make life aboard the _Ayesha_, when she was rolling heavily, at
all endurable to these animals, we had nailed slats on the flooring
of their quarters. Before this had been done, the poor creatures went
sliding back and forth across the smooth deck, from rail to rail.
Twice our hope that a friendly steamer was coming to our relief was
disappointed. Each time it was an English ship. One of them behaved
so peculiarly, and made such unusual manoeuvres as we came in
sight, that we believed her to be an auxiliary cruiser. We therefore
cleared the _Ayesha's_ deck for action. To occupy the attention of the
cruiser, with whom we wished to pass for a harmless merchant vessel,
we signaled: "Please give me the geographical position." This is a
signal very commonly used by sailing vessels when meeting a steamer.
The desired information was given us, but with it came the embarrassing
question: "Who are you?" We had no special signal of our own, and the
_Ayesha's_ signal, which we had learned from the ship's papers, we did
not, for obvious reasons, care to give. So we took four flags that
happened to be at hand, arranged them one above the other, tied a knot
in the two upper ones, so that no one could tell what they were, and
then hoisted this signal in such a way that it was half hidden by the
sails. This scheme we hoped would lead the steamer to believe that we
had answered the question, but that she had failed to decipher our
signal. About half an hour later the steamer had disappeared. We saw
her answering signal, "I have seen your signal, but cannot make it
out," fluttering after her at half mast as long as she remained in
sight. The second English steamer came in view at a great distance from
us, and probably did not see us at all.
The fourteenth of December, 1914, was a thick, foggy and rainy day,
with rather high seas running. The _Ayesha_ was tacking back and forth
under close reefed sails, when suddenly, through the dense atmosphere,
we could see, only about four thousand meters ahead, a steamer looming
up out of a thick, gray fog bank. She had two masts and one smoke
stack, and was steering an easterly course. We were sailing toward the
west. At this point the course of the ordinary merchantman can only
be either to the north, or to the south. Hence, a steamer running on
an easterly course here, must have some unusual reason for doing so.
The natural inference was that this was one of the German steamers
looking for us. We steered our course for her at once, under as much
sail as our ship could carry. We sent off red and white fire balls that
are visible by day as well as by night, in the hope of attracting the
attention of the steamer, which by this time we had recognized as the
Lloyd steamer, _Choising_. Our great fear was that the _Choising_ would
fail to see us in the foggy weather, and so would pass us by. At last,
after we had sent off our fourth or fifth fire ball signal, we saw the
ship turn, and come towards us.
Up flew our flag and pennant. The steamer ran up the German flag. The
crew laid aloft into the shrouds, and three cheers rang from deck to
deck. As usual, our men were dressed in the manner customary in the
Garden of Eden, a costume which necessity had forced upon them. The
men of the _Choising_ confided to us later that they were blank with
astonishment when suddenly, out of the fog, emerged a schooner, the
shrouds of which were filled with naked forms. Because of the heavy
seas running, an immediate transfer to the _Choising_ was not possible.
As better weather had prevailed in the region to the south, from which
we had come, I signaled the _Choising_ to follow the _Ayesha_.
But, instead of growing better, the weather grew steadily worse on the
following day, until, during the course of the night, it developed into
a heavy storm. The _Ayesha's_ sails were close reefed, and, it must be
said, she behaved well. Not one of the heavy combers broke over her;
she rode them like a duck. Of course, the inside of the ship was as wet
as the outside, for the spray dashed over the deck without intermission.
At daybreak the _Choising_, which is a ship of 1700 tonnage, signaled
by flag: "On account of the storm and heavy seas I cannot remain here."
I therefore decided to run in under the lee of the land, so as to
make the transfer there, and accordingly, signaled another place of
meeting to the _Choising_. The two ships separated again, as I, in my
sailing vessel, could not steer the same course that the steamer took.
The next night was the worst that we experienced on the _Ayesha_. All
night long the tempest raged. Although aware of our proximity to the
islands, we did not know just where we were. Both the wind and the
current threatened to dash us against the reefs. The night was so black
that we could not see anything. If, under these conditions, we should
get too near the shore, both ship and crew were doomed. Even the small
rags of sails, closely reefed as they were, which we still carried,
were almost too much. Towards morning an especially fierce squall set
in. It was too much for our rotten old sails. We heard a sharp crack,
and then another,--our fore-sail and our staysail had torn away from
their bolt ropes, and only a few small rags were left whipping in the
wind. The departing fore-sail took with it a third sail, the fore
staysail, so that we lost all our forward canvas. To set a spare sail
was quite impossible at the time, both on account of the darkness and
of the heavy running seas. We had to lay to, therefore, with only the
after-sails, and trust to luck to keep away from the surf.
As soon as the day dawned, the spare sails were got out and bent
on. Before long, the wind began to die down. We found it possible
to increase our canvas and steer toward the place appointed for our
meeting with the _Choising_. As we drew near to it, at about nine
o'clock in the morning, the _Choising_ appeared in the distance. In
the meantime, however, the wind had fallen off so completely that the
_Ayesha_ could hardly make any headway at all. I therefore signaled the
_Choising_ to take us in tow, and get in the lee of the nearest island.
There we would find shelter from both wind and waves, and the transfer
could be safely made.