There has been a signal that we are to have steam up at 6.30 to-morrow morning, in order to go out to sea for firing. This will be our first practice since leaving Revel.
I have not been ashore to-day. I was lazy, though the weather was tolerable. The rain is not incessant. They have brought a puppy on board, some shellfish, and some hermit crabs. They torment the molluscs by pouring eau de Cologne over them, puffing tobacco-smoke at them, and by burning them with matches. A lively occupation, but really it is excusable; there are no distractions, and they have invented this.
January 13th.—Weather is pleasant in harbour; probably it will be calm at sea as well. We are going to fire. We weighed anchor at 8 a.m. French torpedo-boats have followed us. They brought telegrams from Mayung. They went into harbour at Nosi Be, and handed over telegrams to the torpedo-boat Bodry. The latter pursued the Suvaroff, and passed the telegrams to the admiral by means of a rope-end. What news do they contain?
Firing is just beginning. Everything is tightly closed. The mirrors have been taken down and crockery put away.
6 p.m.—The ships have finished their firing, and we are now going into the anchorage.
Reuter's telegrams state that Petersburg and Moscow are under martial law and surrounded by a chain of troops; that the mutiny of sailors at Sevastopol continues; that they have burnt the barracks and Admiralty there; that the troops have refused to fire on the mutineers; and that military disorders are rife throughout Russia. These telegrams must be read with reserve, but I, at any rate, believe them. During manœuvres to-day the Borodino and Alexander nearly collided. Thank God, this accident was averted. It would have been appalling.
A few days ago they were doing some work in the Suvaroff and opened a valve. They forgot to shut it, and opened another one yesterday, not knowing that the first had not been closed. In the night a whole compartment was flooded, and water poured into the engine-room. How I cursed that I had come in the fleet! Here you sit chained, seeing the mistakes of others, and are powerless to do anything. At times I really fear that I shall go mad.
January 14th.—The colliers brought news that the Oleg has captured a steamer which was taking two hundred and sixty field-guns to Japan. It sounds improbable. This steamer, as far as I know, should have gone round Africa; and there our auxiliary cruisers awaited her.
I went to a café on shore and played cards. I lost 170 francs (about 64 roubles). Returned on board about seven o'clock, late for dinner, so dined in my cabin. On shore I saw the man who was suspected of being a spy. He is very like a Russian, and wears his long red hair like an artist.
11 p.m.—Wonderfully practical folk, the Germans! They have sent officers to the colliers to help the captains. These officers are sent in order that they may watch our cruise and give useful information to their own navy. Would Russia do anything similar? No, never! This is why we are paying so dearly now. We are still far from having a fine navy or army. It is not a question of soldiers, but of organising a campaign, of constant preparation and of foresight.