Part 11 (2/2)
July 30th.--The date of the most important event of the commission.
Referring to my ”journal” I find recorded below this date that word of terrible import, ”stranded.” Yea, truly are we. And this is how it all came about. We had sailed from Hakodadi with a fair wind, through the strait of Sangar and out into the sea of j.a.pan, shaped our course for Aniwa bay, in Sagalien, with--except that the atmosphere was rather hazy--every prospect of a fair and quick pa.s.sage.
Off the south western corner of Yezo, and about ninety miles from Hakodadi, lies the small island of O'Kosiri, in the track of vessels going north. By morning we had reached its neighbourhood--it could be seen in fact--when suddenly a thick fog enveloped it, us, and the surrounding sea. We were to have gone outside the island, though the inner pa.s.sage is navigable, still, to avoid any possibility of an accident, it was deemed best to go to seaward of it. At 4 a.m., whilst steaming at six knots, the look out man reported land dead ahead. The officer of the watch, seemingly pretty confident as to his whereabouts, altered course a point or so, and kept on at the same speed. An hour pa.s.sed, the fog had settled thicker than ever. At ten minutes past two bells in the morning, without any warning--the lead even shewing deep soundings--a cras.h.i.+ng, grating sound was heard, accompanied by a distinct trembling vibration, proceeding, apparently, from under the s.h.i.+p's bottom. Even then, no one dreamed we were ash.o.r.e; such a sound, such a sensation, might have been produced by running over a junk. At this moment the leadsman got a throw of the lead, and ”_a quarter less four_,” indicated only too plainly the origin of the sounds.
With his usual promptness--as if running ash.o.r.e was a matter of ordinary evolution--our captain at once gave orders for engines to be reversed, for boats to be hoisted out, and anchors placed away, where they would be of most use; at the same time directions were given to have the steam launch coaled and provisioned to go back to Hakodadi for a.s.sistance. On soundings being taken along the starboard side plenty of water was obtained; it was only on her port bottom that the s.h.i.+p had grounded.
Efforts were made to roll her off, all hands rus.h.i.+ng from one side of the deck to the other, but without result. Through the crystal clear water, and in the deep shadow of the s.h.i.+p, the nature of the bottom could be clearly seen--coral rocks and yellow sand. Fortunately the sea was a flat calm, or it must have fared ill indeed with us.
At ordinary times the sailor prefers plenty of sea room, and the further he is from land the safer he feels; but when one's s.h.i.+p has suddenly converted ”_mare_” into ”_terram_” with, may be, a hole in her to boot, then indeed the proximity to some friendly sh.o.r.e is his first consideration.
The lifting fog revealed to us our whereabouts; within a hundred yards of us the surf washed edges of a reef, and before us the low sh.o.r.es and high hills of O'Kosiri.
The unusual sight of a large s.h.i.+p so near their island soon brought the natives off in their queer canoes. By means of our interpreter we learn that the people had never seen a man-of-war before; that there was no rise and fall of tide there; and much more about the ways and means available for opening up communications with Hakodadi.
Meanwhile shot and sh.e.l.l were got out and sent on sh.o.r.e, and coals pitched overboard, because no lighters were obtainable at this stage in the proceedings. The divers having gone down reported the s.h.i.+p aground in three distinct places, aft, amids.h.i.+ps under the batteries, and forward. Thus ended the first day. With the morrow a swell set in from seaward, which caused us to b.u.mp heavily, though it did not alter our position. On this day the expected a.s.sistance arrived from Hakodadi.
Close on each other's heels the following s.h.i.+ps bore down upon us:--the ”Modeste,” with lighters in tow, the ”Kerguelen,” ”Champlain,” and ”Themis,” Frenchmen, the latter the admiral's s.h.i.+p; and the Russian corvette ”Naezdnik,” with the admiral's flag at the mizen.
These five s.h.i.+ps at once anch.o.r.ed in the best positions consistent with their own safety to help us; the ”Kerguelen” a little on our starboard quarter, and the ”Champlain” right astern with our steel hawsers on board and two anchors down.
With the second night came a chapter of accidents.
At sunset a rolling sea again set in, heavier than that of the morning.
The swell and the weight of our hawsers acting on the necessarily short cables of the ”Champlain” caused that vessel to drag and take the ground on our port quarter. In her attempts to extricate herself, our steel hawser got foul of her propeller and wound itself around it in such a confused ma.s.s, that the vessel's machinery became practically useless.
Thus, side by side, the two companions in distress kept the watches of that night. But this was not all; the ”Modeste” coming to the rescue of the ”Champlain,” ran into the ”Kerguelen,” but fortunately without any serious result.
Sunday, August 1st.--At daylight the ”Modeste” succeeded in towing the ”Champlain” out of her perilous position. As she did so a large piece of the Frenchman's false keel floated to the surface, whilst she was found to be making two and a half tons of water per hour. A turn of her propeller the other way caused the now useless hawser to fall off. When recovered by the divers, this ma.s.s of steel wire was a gordian knot of utter confusion.
The swell of last night, though it did our s.h.i.+p and the ”Champlain” some harm, rendered us at least one service, by causing a higher influx of water than usual, which resulted in lifting us off our pinnacled and dangerous resting place into deep soundings again. And now it was discovered that we too were taking in water in one of our compartments which, however, thanks to our double bottom system, we were enabled to confine to the one s.p.a.ce.
As we pa.s.sed slowly by the anch.o.r.ed s.h.i.+ps, cheer after cheer rent the still air, whilst the bands played our national anthem. An a.n.a.lysis of the sounds of this mult.i.tudinous chorus of men's voices, was a very interesting, though not a difficult matter. The sweet cadence of the Frenchmen's low cheer was clearly a distinct sound from the Russian's ursine growl; whilst the Englishmen's ”hip, hip, hurrah!” if not so musical as the first, nor as bearish as the second, was a more honest sound than either.
On the following evening, after having bundled all our stores on board, we put back to Hakodadi for coal and to allow the admiral to turn over to the ”Modeste.”
August 6th.--Off for Hong Kong by the j.a.pan sea pa.s.sage, touching at Nagasaki for coal, and hence on to Amoy against a south-west monsoon, and into the scorching heat of the southern summer. A few hours at Amoy sufficed us to take in enough coal for the short distance to Hong Kong, where we had the satisfaction of finding ourselves, without mishap, on August 18th. Almost immediately the hands were sent on board the ”Victor Emmanuel,” whilst the s.h.i.+p was undergoing repairs at Aberdeen.
Whilst resting on the chocks in the dock the extent of the damage sustained by us was plainly visible; and, when we come to consider, that fourteen plates had to be removed and replaced by new ones, and this too in the immediate neighbourhood of the keel, the wonder is that Chinamen accomplished the c.u.mbrous work satisfactorily.
September 20th.--Exactly one month ago to-day the s.h.i.+p was docked--to-day she came out; what do you think of that for expedition?
On floating it was found that a slight damage to the Kingston valve had been overlooked, and as the s.h.i.+p was still making water, it was thought a second docking would be necessary. Fortunately our very effective diving staff were able to repair it without the bother and additional expense of being sh.o.r.ed up again.
September 22nd.--A fed-letter day. Why? Oh, only because--”tell it not in Gath”--the captain ”_spliced the main brace_!” Yea, yea, verily! The fact was, his s.h.i.+p had been got ready for sea in _two days_; hence the _splicing_.
September 23rd.--We were to have gone to sea to-day, but ”_l'homme propose_.” Rumours of an approaching atmospheric disturbance had been telegraphed from Manilla, within the previous forty-eight hours. Other usual and confirmatory indications were also observed; the presence of an unusual number of jelly-fish in the harbour till the sea stank with them; the lurid appearance of the sunset sky, as if the heavens were bathed in blood; the arrival of hundreds of junks from seaward seeking shelter: all these signs summed up were considered satisfactory reasons for preparing for a typhoon--than which, I suppose, no wind is more violent and destructive. It is said that persons who have never witnessed the sublime and terrible spectacle can scarcely realize, even from the most graphic descriptions of eye witnesses, what a typhoon really means. A Chinaman informed me that the last typhoon destroyed not less than 18,000 persons in this neighbourhood alone--not a large number when we bear in mind the enormous floating populations in Chinese towns.
All the day the air was ominous of a coming something. At noon I asked a Chinaman when it might be expected. His answer shewed me how even this mighty destroyer is guided by a far mightier hand--”Suppose he no' com now, he com by'm by, nine clock.” Well, ”he” did not come now; but at 9 p.m.--and almost simultaneous with the firing of the gun--it came on to blow; but, mercifully, not a typhoon, only the spent violence of one.
Even this necessitated the letting go a second anchor and the steaming head on to it, for upwards of five hours.
With the morning the gale had considerably abated, and as the barometer was on the rise, and the captain impatient to clear out, we put to sea.
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