_THE PASSING OF THE "AYESHA"_
While we were being towed by the _Choising_, we began to unrig the
good old _Ayesha_. It saddened us to think that we would have to sink
her, as there was no port to which we could take her. There was danger
that she would be restored to her former owner if we took her to a
Dutch port. This we wanted to prevent under any circumstances. All the
provisions we still had on hand were placed on the upper deck, and
our arms were taken there also. Trunks there were none to pack. The
_Ayesha's_ figure-head, which represented the favorite wife of the
prophet, was taken down, and the rudder wheel unscrewed; both were to
be carried with us aboard the _Choising_, and kept as souvenirs.
Soon we had reached the shelter of the small islands, the swell ceased,
and it was possible to bring the _Ayesha_ alongside the steamer.
Meanwhile, the _Ayesha's_ shrouds, the ropes which hold the masts, were
cut, and all other ends and stays were either removed, or cut through.
At the same time two holes were bored into the hold, and through these
the ship began slowly to fill.
Towards four o'clock in the afternoon the _Choising's_ engine was
started up, and the _Ayesha_ was cut adrift. It appeared as though
the little ship were loth to part from us, for, although our steamer
was moving on, and no hawser was holding the _Ayesha_ to us, she
kept alongside the _Choising_ for some time. And then, at last, as
though she had found her own strength insufficient to keep up with us,
the _Ayesha_ caught on to our ship, just behind the gangway ladder,
carrying a part of it with her.
I wanted to stay by the _Ayesha_ as long as she was afloat, so our
steamer was stopped, and we lay to at a distance of three hundred to
four hundred meters off from her. The loss of the brave little ship
touched us deeply. Although our life on board had been anything but
comfortable, we nevertheless all realized fully that it was to the
_Ayesha_ we owed our liberty. For nearly a month and a half she had
been our home. In that time she had carried us 1709 nautical miles.
We all stood aft at the stern railing of the _Choising_, and watched
the _Ayesha's_ last battle with the waves. Gradually, and very slowly,
she sank lower and lower in the water. Soon it washed her upper deck.
Then suddenly a shudder passed over the whole ship; she seemed to draw
a long breath; the bow rose out of the water for a last time, only to
plunge into it again the more deeply. The iron ballast rolled forward;
standing on end, her rudder up, her masts flat on the water, the
_Ayesha_ shot like a stone into the deep, never to be seen again. Three
cheers for her rang out above her ocean grave.
The day was the sixteenth of December, 1914, and the hour, fifty-eight
minutes after four o'clock in the afternoon.
Aboard the _Choising_, the first thing to be done was to order a course
to the west, and the next, to see what provision could be made for my
men. A place had already been prepared for them in a part of the ship
ordinarily used for the storing of coal. It had been cleaned up, and
mattresses, blankets, etc., sufficient for all, were in readiness, so
that, in comparison with the days spent on the _Ayesha_, a life of
luxury was before us.
An ocean greyhound my new ship surely was not. When in the best of
trim, she went at the rate of seven and one half miles, but there were
times when we had to content ourselves with four. This was due, in
part, to poor coal. The _Choising_ was a ship that had originally been
intended for use as a coaling steamer for the _Emden_, and in this
capacity had waited long for her at the appointed place. But, as the
British Admiralty had been so obliging as to provide the _Emden_ most
generously and considerately with the best of Welsh coal, although its
intended destination was Hong Kong, there had been no reason why the
_Emden_ should take on any of the poor quality of coal from India and
Australia, which the _Choising_ had aboard for her. While waiting for
the _Emden_ the _Choising's_ cargo of coal had got on fire, and we were
now using what was left of this half-burned coal.
On the _Choising_ we had news which was of importance to us. At the
time that we left Padang in the _Ayesha_, we found it a most difficult
problem to decide where to go. My earliest plan, to try to reach
Tsing-tao, had to be abandoned when, at Padang, we learned of the
fall of that colony. My next intention was to join His Majesty's ship
_Königsberg_, of whose whereabouts we knew nothing more than that she
was somewhere in the Indian Ocean. In case she was no longer there
(I had hoped to get news of her from the _Choising_), my next plan
was to sail to German East Africa. We knew that there had been some
severe fighting there between our colonial troops and the English,
and, upon reflection, I abandoned this project also, as being an
absolutely hopeless one. With only fifty men, whose clothing outfit was
an entirely inadequate one, and who were wholly unprovided with any
of the many things necessary to troops on land, with neither surgeon
nor medicines, no knowledge of the language, no guide, and no maps, it
would be next to impossible, in a district as large as the fighting
area of South-east Africa, to locate and make connection with troops
numbering not more than a few thousands themselves. For the present,
therefore, there was but one course left open to us,--to make our
way homeward by following the route around Africa. How to provision
our ship for so long a journey was a problem which suggested many
difficulties, however.
But at last we found in one of the newspapers the report of a battle
between Turkish and British troops at Sheikh Said, near Perim, an
island in the Strait of Bab-el-Mandeb (Gate of Tears). This gave
us reason to believe that Turkey also had now entered the war. Our
diligent search for confirmation of this surmise was finally rewarded
by finding in one of the papers the announcement that war between the
Turkish and British Empires had begun. The new situation thus created
suggested a landing in Arabia as our nearest and most hopeful prospect.
The course which appeared to be even more reasonable, viz., to join the
_Königsberg_, was abandoned, in the first place, because the _Choising_
had brought word that the _Königsberg_ had been sunk in battle
somewhere to the north of Australia, and in the second place, because
of news that she was bottled up in the Rufiji River. If she had been
sunk, our search for her would be to no purpose, and if she was shut in
by a blockade, she would neither have coal, nor could she use any that
we might bring her. The fifty men whom we should add to her numbers
would only make so many more mouths to feed.
The _Choising_ was therefore started on a southerly course, in the
first place, to avoid the principal steamer routes, and secondly,
to keep out of the region in which the tropical cyclones are most
frequent, for the _Choising_ was not equal to such a tempest. A
sharp lookout was kept, so that we might catch sight of an enemy's
ship before we ourselves were discovered. On account of our ship's
remarkable speed, the only chance of escape we had, in case we came in
contact with a hostile man-of-war, lay in a game of bluff.
The _Choising_ was still painted like all Lloyd steamships, viz.,
black hull, white bulwarks, and ochre brown trimmings. Of course, we
could not in safety continue like that. So we gave our ship a coat
of paint that made her look like a Dutchman. But on second thought,
we concluded that this was hardly safe, as we were likely to meet a
number of vessels in the Strait of Bab-el-Mandeb, and that some of them
might ask us the question, "Who are you?" which already had proved
so embarrassing to us. We had no record of sea-going ships on board,
except an English list, at the end of which we found the names of a
number of English vessels that had been sold by the English to foreign
countries. Among these there was one steamship, the _Shenir_, that had
been sold to a Genoa firm, and that was a vessel of 1700 tons. As this
was the exact size of the _Choising_, we decided to adopt the _Shenir_
as sponsor for our ship, and ere long the legend, "_Shenir_, Genoa," in
large white letters, adorned our stern.
This discovery we had made in the English shipping list was especially
welcome to me, as I preferred to pass for an Italian. In view of
Italy's attitude of vacillation, I had reason to believe that even
an English warship would hesitate unnecessarily to harass an Italian
vessel.
The _Shenir_, from Genoa, would naturally be expected to fly the
Italian flag. But this was an article which, unfortunately, was not
numbered among the possessions of the _Choising_. Nor was there any
green bunting on board. A green window curtain was discovered by some
one, however, and to it we sewed a strip of red, and a strip of white
bunting. A committee was then selected from among the men who had
artistic ability, and they were soon hard at work painting Italy's coat
of arms upon the white strip. The green of the curtain was not of the
right shade, however, so we added some yellow paint to a pot of blue,
which we happened to have on board, until the desired shade of green
was produced, and then dipped the green part of the flag into it.