"Enemy in sight." What a thrilling message for us all! We could scarcely believe our ears. "What a stroke of luck!" was the general comment. But this was no time for ruminating; deeds, not words, were required. At last "the Day" for which we had prepared had dawned. In very truth the hunt was up. The magic news travelled round the ship's company like lightning, and they fell in in record time—in spite of having to forgo some of their breakfast. The Invincible, Inflexible, and Carnarvon were in the middle of coaling. Colliers were cast off, and all ships prepared for action in case the enemy appeared off the entrance to Port William.

As several of our ships had one engine down at six hours' notice, the bustle and activity in the engine rooms may well be imagined. We on deck naturally enough were soon ready, and chafed at the delay.

The Kent went out of harbour to reconnoitre, to report on the movements of the enemy, and to relieve the Macedonia. The enemy's two leading ships—the Gneisenau and Nürnberg—were in sight and were approaching the wireless station, intending to wreck it. When near the Wolf Rocks they stopped engines and turned to the north-eastward. The bearing and elevation of the enemy ships having been telephoned from the observation station, the Canopus, finding that they could get no closer, opened fire over the low neck of land at 9.20 A.M. with her 12-inch guns, firing five rounds at a range of 12,000 yards (see [page 83]). It was the first time that most of us had heard a shot fired in a naval action, and it brought home very forcibly the fact that we should soon be tackling the job to which we had looked forward for so long. Hoisting their colours, the enemy turned away S.E. to join the main squadron, which headed out to the eastward. It afterwards transpired that the Germans had seen the tripod masts of our battle-cruisers over the land, which probably decided von Spee in turning away from his objective. In one moment all his hopes of destroying our Fleet—supposed to consist of Carnarvon, Cornwall and Bristol, and possibly the Canopus and Glasgow—the wireless station, and then capturing the colony, were dashed to the ground. From survivors it appears that one of the Canopus's shells had ricocheted, striking the Gneisenau at the base of her after funnel; it was also claimed that a piece of another hit the Nürnberg—good shooting by indirect fire at such a range, with guns of an old type and improvised fire-control arrangements.

Officers of the Canopus, who were in the observation station ashore, saw through the telescope of their theodolite the men on board the Gneisenau fallen in on deck; they could be distinguished, quite plainly, dressed ready for landing, in order to capture the wireless station under cover of their ship's guns. But when the Canopus opened fire with her first two projectiles they lost no time in scuttling away to their action stations.

An amusing incident occurred on board the Canopus when the enemy first hove in sight. The stokers off watch climbed up inside the foremost funnel to see what was going on and sat round the edge, feeling quite secure as they knew the ship was ashore—hard and fast. They very soon came down, however, when they were informed that the boilers of that funnel were being lit up and the ship going to sea.

At 9.40 A.M. the Glasgow went out to join the Kent in observing the enemy's movements. Five minutes later the squadron weighed, with the exception of the Bristol, who had all her fires out to clean boilers. She was ready three-quarters of an hour later, however, which must have constituted a record for ships of her class. The Carnarvon, Inflexible, Invincible, and Cornwall proceeded out in the order named, the Inflexible ramming a sailing pinnace belonging to the Cornwall, half full of stores, on her way through the line of mines; fortunately a barrel of beer belonging to the wardroom officers had previously been rescued! The Macedonia was ordered to remain behind in Port William. It was very clear with a slight north-westerly breeze—ideal conditions for a long-range action.

The last of our line cleared the harbour about 10.30 A.M., when the five enemy ships could be seen hull down on the horizon to the S.E., 12 to 13 miles off, steaming off in the hopeless attempt to escape. The signal "General chase" was flying from the Invincible, and the magnificent spectacle of our ships, each with four or five white ensigns fluttering in the breeze, all working up to full speed, will always live in the memory of those who witnessed it on that eventful day.

The surprise and horror of the Germans at seeing our two battle-cruisers for the first time was testified by the survivors, who said, "They tried not to believe it." It must have been an awful moment finding themselves suddenly face to face with almost certain destruction. First of our ships came the little Glasgow, dashing along like an express train, then the two huge battle-cruisers going about 25 knots, belching forth volumes of dense black smoke as they made use of their oil fuel to quicken their fires, followed by the Kent, Carnarvon, and Cornwall doing about 22 knots.

The Admiral reduced speed for an hour to 20 knots at 11.15 A.M., to allow the "County" cruisers to catch up, for it was evident that we were rapidly gaining on the enemy, as we sped along on an easterly course. The Glasgow was ordered to keep three miles ahead of the Invincible. There was now an opportunity to get out of coaling kit and have a hasty wash. The ship's companies were consequently sent to dinner early, acting on the good old maxim that a man always fights better on a full stomach; but the excitement was too intense for most men to have more than a bite, and they were mostly to be seen crowding about the ship's decks munching a hastily made sandwich.

At 11.27 A.M. the Bristol reported that the smoke of three steamers, enemy transports, had been sighted from the signal station at Point Pleasant to the southward of the Island, whereupon the Commander-in-Chief ordered the Bristol and Macedonia to destroy them. They arrived to find only two, both big colliers, the Baden and Santa Isabel; the Bristol took off the crews and then sank the vessels. Half an hour later the Bristol learnt the news of the result of the action, and that the sacrifice of their valuable cargoes had been unnecessary. The Macedonia, who was first upon the scene, sighted smoke on the horizon, but could see no ship. Rumour had it that this third ship was the Seydlitz, and that she had a landing party of armed men and field guns on board, but this has never been substantiated in any way.