THE KENNEBUNK SAILS
Put back upon her course, the S. P. 888 was soon beating her way through
the cross-seas--"bucking the briny" the boys called it--toward the port
from which the _Kennebunk_ was to sail in the morning.
It was a wild night. The peril through which the ship's company had just
passed, and from which Philip Morgan had been able to save them, made
the threatening aspects of sea and air seem small indeed. Let the wind
shriek through the wire stays and the waves roar and burst about and
over the submarine chaser as they listed, none of these dangers equaled
that of the depth charge which had run amuck.
Seven Knott was brought to his senses in a short time, and, after
staring about a bit, murmured:
"Well, I didn't get it, did I?"
"Not your fault, my man," declared Ensign MacMasters cheerfully. "Wait
till Lieutenant Commander Lang, of the _Colodia_, hears about it. You
have done well, Hertig. He will be proud of you."
At that the petty officer smiled, for he was inordinately fond of the
commander of the destroyer.
Mr. MacMasters made it plain to the boatswain's mate that apprentice
seaman Morgan had saved him, as well as the rest of the ship's company,
from disaster, and Hansie Hertig grinned broadly.
"That Whistler--he can do something besides make tunes with his mouth,
eh?" he observed.
Most of the crew of the submarine chaser, as well as the members of the
squad going aboard the _Kennebunk_, personally congratulated Whistler on
his courage and quick action.
"This is an awfully small boat, Torry," he complained to his chum.
"There isn't any place for a fellow to get away by himself. There are
too many folks here."
He did not take kindly to so much approbation. He felt that Lieutenant
Perkins had already said enough.
Although Whistler and his mates had no duties to perform on the S. P.
888, they did not turn in that night at all. To tell the truth the
chaser was making an awfully rough passage of it, and although they were
inured to the discomforts of their beloved _Colodia_ in stormy weather,
this was even worse.
They kept out of the way of the watch on duty, but remained for the
most part on deck, as they were free to do. The watchlights on the
shore, those in the lighthouses and the lamps in certain seaside
hamlets, gave them their position from time to time. They were aware
long before daylight that they were drawing near to the harbor mouth of
the port where the superdreadnaught lay.
It was blowing a whole gale (in nautical language, sixty-five miles or
more an hour) and as the submarine chaser was meeting the seas on a
slant, it might almost as well have been a hurricane. As Frenchy said:
"The smaller the boat, the bigger the wind seems. And a 'happy thought'
like this chaser will kick up like a frisky colt in a dead calm, I do
believe. By St. Patrick's piper that played the last snake out of
Ireland! I'll be a week gittin' over this pitchin'. What d'you say,
Mister Torrance, acushla?"
"Don't blather me!" growled Torry.
"Hast thou a feeling that all is not well in the daypartment av the
intayrior?" teased the Irish lad, who would joke at all times and upon
the most serious subjects.
"Torry does look a bit green about the gills," put in Whistler.
"Serves him right for eatin' crab-meat salad there at Yancey's,"
declared Ikey Rosenmeyer. "That's nice chow to go to sea on, yet."
"I don't have to ask you what to eat," said Torry gruffly.
"Oi, oi! That's right," agreed Ikey. "Just the same I could tell you
lots better than that."
The boys had sampled the cook's coffee, but not much else, since
embarking on the S. P. 888. It was true that the pitching of the chaser
was not conducive to a ravenous appetite.
"If Uncle kept all his bluejackets on these submarine chasers," said
Whistler, "he'd save money on grub. I wonder these fellows," referring
to the crew of the S. P. 888, "manage to keep up with their rations."
The little craft swerved at last and took the waves directly astern as
she ran shoreward. The mouth of the harbor opened up to her, and in the
gray light, as the chaser shot in between the headlands, almost
smothered in foam, the men and boys on her deck sighted through the haze
the towering hull of the great battleship.
"There she is!" gasped Frenchy. "My! isn't she a monster?"
"She's a regular leviathan," agreed Whistler.
Even Torry forgot his discomfort and showed enthusiasm. "She's the
biggest thing I ever saw afloat," he said. "Listen, fellows!"
Two strokes of a silvery bell rang out from some ship asleep in the
morning mist. It was five o'clock. From the decks of the battleship
sounded the bugles of the boatswain's mates, piping reveille and "all
hands."
"Gee!" groaned Frenchy, "reg'lar duty again, fellows."
"Don't croak," advised Whistler. "It's what we signed on for, isn't it?"
The chaser, now riding an even keel in the more quiet waters of the
harbor, swept at slower speed to the side of the towering hull of the
_Kennebunk_. A sentinel at the starboard ladder, which was lowered,
hailed sharply. A moment later a deck officer came to the side.
"S. P. Eight Hundred and Eighty-eight, ahoy!" he said.
"Lieutenant Perkins in command," said that officer, standing in his
storm coat and boots on the wet deck. "With squad of seamen under Ensign
MacMasters for the _Kennebunk_."
"Send them aboard, Lieutenant, if you please. We trip anchors in half an
hour. The tide is just at the turn."
Mr. MacMasters was already lining up his men, and Seven Knott, with a
bandage on his head, was looking for stragglers. Some of the chaser's
crew shook hands with the boys assigned to the superdreadnaught before
they went up her side.
"Good luck! If you get a chance, smash a Fritzie battleship for me!"
were some of the wishes that followed Whistler Morgan and his companions
aboard the superdreadnaught.
The boys from Seacove and their companions reported to the chief
master-at-arms, while Mr. MacMasters made his report to the executive
officer.
At first glance it was plainly to be seen by the newcomers that the
superdreadnaught had a full crew. Their squad made complete her
complement of men. She was ready to put to sea.
Hammocks were already piped up and the smoking lamp was lit. The cooks
of the watch were serving coffee, and the newly arrived party had their
share, and grateful they were. Their experience aboard the submarine
patrol boat had been most chilling and uncomfortable.
Immediately, the call for hauling over hammock cloths and stopping them
down was sounded. "Pipe sweepers" was the next command, and the decks
were thoroughly swept while the deck washers removed their shoes and
socks.
"Wet down decks!" and the washers sprang for the coils of hose attached
to the fire hydrants. Every part of the decks was flushed with clean sea
water and swabs, or deck-mops, were used where necessary.
All this was a familiar routine to Whistler Morgan and his mates. Later
they would be assigned to their places in the watches and to their posts
at all deck drills.
At the execution of morning orders at three bells, or half-past five,
the decks were cleared of all loiterers and the order passed to break
away the anchors. The steam gear was already in action. The derrick had
hoisted aboard the running steamer before the chaser had arrived with
the boys from Seacove and their companions, and it was now stowed in her
proper berth amidships. There was no other craft outboard, even the
captain's gig having been stowed preparatory to going to sea.
Feathery smoke was rising from the funnels of the ship when Whistler and
his chums had come aboard. Now great gray masses of oily smoke ballooned
upward, drifting away to leeward before the gale. As soon as the anchors
were tripped the bows of the great ship swung seaward. She began to
forge ahead.
The _Kennebunk_ was a huge craft, indeed, being of thirty-two thousand
tons' displacement. She carried twelve 12 and 14-inch guns in her
turrets on the center line, while her torpedo battery of 5 and 6-inch
guns numbered twenty. The "all-big-gun" feature of our big battleships
began with the construction of the dreadnaught _Delaware_, in 1906.
The _Kennebunk_ was heavily armored on the waterline and barbettes. She
likewise had 5 to 8-inch armor along in wake of the berth-deck and
armored broadside gun positions.
She had two steel cage masts and cofferdams along the unarmored portion
of her waterline to protect the ship from being flooded if pierced by a
shell between wind and water.
All machinery necessary to the superdreadnaught while in action was
installed below the armored deck and behind the thick belt of armor at
the waterline. Her system of water-tight compartments was perfect, and
she had a complete double bottom.
In addition to her offensive machinery, she had several underwater
torpedo tubes. Although she was supposed to be too heavy for great
speed, her coal carrying capacity was enormous, and she could travel on
the power of her oil engines alone in a pinch. Altogether, the
_Kennebunk_ was the very latest result of battleship construction, and
was preëminently a "first line ship."
But she had yet to prove herself.
Her brief trial cruise had shown her to be safe and that she could be
handled by the minimum of men allowed on such a ship. Now with a full
crew and direct orders for a month or more ahead, she was going to sea
to make her initial record as a sea-fighter for Uncle Sam.
Her commander's report would be made daily by wireless to Washington,
and the working out of the new superdreadnaught would be watched by
experts with the keenest anxiety.
There were several points regarding the _Kennebunk's_ construction
different from any craft that had ever been built for similar work
before; and if these matters did not prove satisfactory there would be
bitter criticism of the board in charge. This was no time, Congress
would say, for the trial of "new frills." The country was at war, and it
was believed that all our first line ships would soon be called into
action. Germany was believed to be in such desperate straits that it was
thought she would venture to send her fleet to sea after three and a
half years of hiding in the Kiel Canal.
High hopes and some doubt went with the _Kennebunk_ as she steamed out
of the harbor and into the storm. Not alone were her officers and crew
anxious to find out what she could do. The rulers of the United States
Navy were deeply concerned as well.