By two o'clock in the afternoon we were on our way down the Jade. Officers in command of guardships and barriers had had orders to let us pass without hindrance or delay.
Off the 'Roter Sand' lighthouse, which so often in thick weather had given us guidance—not seldom at the very last moment—the first metamorphosis took place. The secret hatchway was opened and a couple of large boxes brought up, the contents of which we proceeded to spread out on deck. These consisted of complete outfits of clothing for the crew; Norwegian uniforms, i.e. plain blue suits, caps, sweaters, linen, etc., all genuine down to the smallest detail. Even the black buttons were stamped with the name of a Norwegian firm!
In a few minutes the dressing-up was complete, and the result was not without its comic side, for, while some of us looked very like Scandinavians, others looked like nothing on earth, for of course not all the garments were adapted to the size of the wearers. One of the stokers, a tall Bavarian, asked indignantly why the stokers did not get fine big knives like the seamen. When I explained to him that these were only for work, and that later on all would have proper daggers and pistols, he was visibly reassured. One consequence of this metamorphosis was that henceforward all military smartness of bearing and movement had to be dropped, for in order to be able to play our parts properly we must gradually accustom ourselves to tramp-ship ways. I had supposed that this would come easy to the men, but that was not the case; and I must say that, desirable as it was under present circumstances, I could not help being pleased to see how extraordinarily difficult it was to get rid of the military polish. I was sorry my former chief was not there to observe it. However, they learned in time to drop the heel-clicking, call me Cap'n, instead of 'Herr Leutnant,' talk a low German lingo that might pass, at a pinch, for Norwegian, and let their beards grow.
We signalled good-bye to a group of outpost boats on their way in, and once more entered the Elbe. In the night we passed through the Kiel Canal. Next morning saw us off the Bulk lightship, and a little later we steamed, in glorious spring weather, through the Fehmarn Sound. A few hours later we were in Lübeck.
In calling on the firm of shipping agents which had been entrusted with the loading and outfitting of the Libau, I decided to assume my rôle of merchant captain, but the first attempt was something of a fiasco. Clad in the go-ashore kit proper to my status, I entered the private office of the firm, only to be greeted with a respectful 'Good morning, Commander'—a nasty jolt! I stuck to it, however, and the interview passed through various stages of incredulity, indignation at my avoidance of military service, and irritation at my boorish manners. In the end, however, we understood each other excellently, and I here record with gratitude the valuable aid I received from the firm and their confidential employees in the fitting out of the Libau.
The main difficulty was the stowage of the cargo. Even allowing for the quantities of coal and water which would be used in the course of the voyage, the draft which we were not to exceed at our arrival in Ireland was extremely small; and the cargo, in order to be capable of being, if necessary, quickly got out, with very little in the way of help and appliances, had to be stored in a manner contrary to accepted principles and usages. As a result of that, the Libau was so top-heavy that if we encountered stormy weather, there was a great danger of her capsizing. I had perforce, therefore, to make up my mind to increase the dead-weight, which was already considerable, by another two hundred tons of coal. That had, on the other hand, the advantage that I might quite possibly find an excellent use for this 'ballast' later, and how necessary it was, for the immediate purpose the sequel was to show. Without it we should infallibly have been lost off the Rockalls.
As with all the people that we were obliged to employ, the stevedore's men were all carefully chosen. After coal, provisions, water, and so forth had been put on board, they got to work on the stowage of the cargo. Piece by piece had to be lowered into the hold with the greatest care, lest any of the cases should break, for it was highly important that no one should know what was in them. The cases were, for this reason, marked with the usual black and red shippers' marks. The men must, of course, have smelt a rat, for what could be the object of sending to sea at this time a German cargo-steamer with piece-goods marked with names like Genoa and Naples? In any case, I thought it as well to put it abroad here, too, that the Libau was going to Libau! Of course, this was whispered under the strictest seal of secrecy, for then we could be sure that it would go all round the town. I myself let out once in conversation that I was going to take troops aboard in Libau, which were to carry out a 'coup' in Finland. That sounded quite credible. No later than next morning I was asked confidentially by one of the gentlemen who had to do with the fitting-out, whether it was true that I was going to embark troops at Libau for Finland; it was, he said, being reported in the town. Imagine my astonishment! I could only hope that the rumour would come to the ears of some English spies, and if in addition the Russians were on the look-out for us at Libau, then everything was in the best possible train.
And now there suddenly appeared in the living-rooms of the Libau all sorts of genuine Norwegian equipment, whenever possible stamped with the name of a firm; and even Norwegian books and the latest Christiania papers. It was a pity, but it could not be avoided, that a number of Scandinavian ships were lying in harbour with us. All suspicious objects of any kind were now packed away in the hold with the 'entrance through the sofa bunk,' the 'conjurer's box,' as the men christened it.
This 'conjurer's box' was to be very useful to us later. The whole of the German equipment, which we had to have with us but were obliged during the voyage to keep hidden from prying eyes—uniforms, arms, explosive and incendiary bombs, all German nautical instruments, books, charts, flags (including the numerous flags of foreign nations which we might have to use)—all found their way into this compartment.
We had supplies enough, all told, to keep us easily for six months—with the exception of coal, of course, which was calculated to last forty-five days.