At ten o’clock we turned to the right and steered for a column of smoke that had appeared on the far horizon; and at half-past ten we were circling over the American fleet as it steamed ahead slowly with fires under all boilers and everything ready for full speed at an instant’s notice.
As we approached the huge super-dreadnought Pennsylvania, flag-ship of the American squadron, Mr. Astor unfurled the Stars and Stripes, and we could hear the crews cheering as they waved back their greetings.
I should explain that we were able to converse easily, above the roar of our propellers, by talking into telephone head-pieces.
“Look!” cried Astor. “Our ships are beginning a manoeuvre.”
The Pennsylvania, with red-and-white flags on her foremast, was signalling to the fleet: “Prepare to engage the enemy.” We watched eagerly as the great ships, stretching away for miles, turned slightly to starboard and, with quickened engines, advanced in one long line of battle.
At half-past eleven another smoke column appeared on our port bow, and within half an hour we could make out enemy vessels on either hand.
“They’re coming on in two divisions, miles apart,” said Astor, studying the two smoke columns with his glasses. “We’re headed right between them.”
We flew ahead rapidly, and presently could clearly discern that the vessels to starboard were large battleships and those to port were destroyers.
At one o’clock the two fleets were about nineteen thousand yards apart and were jockeying for positions. Suddenly four vessels detached themselves from the German battleship line and steamed at high speed across the head of the American column.
“What’s that? What are they doing?” asked Astor.