The Wireless Operator—With the U. S. Coast Guard

by Lewis E. Theiss

At last the Iroquois came within reach of her stranded sister. Now a line could easily be fired across the helpless vessel. Ready was the faking-box with the shot-line faked neatly on the tall spindles within it, ready to run out smoothly as it traveled through the air on its momentous journey. The little brass gun on the after-rail of the Iroquois was uncovered, a charge was inserted in it, its Camden projectile, with shot-line bent fast, projected from the muzzle of the little gun, and all was ready for the effort. The captain himself sighted the little gun, for the gunner, alas! had been in the Iroquois’ surfboat. A moment the commander waited, until the cutter rode on an even keel.

“Fire,” he called.

There was a loud explosion, the night was stabbed with a sheet of flame, and the projectile went hurtling out and up, tearing its way across the hundreds of yards of raging sea that still separated the two ships. For an instant those on board the Iroquois were blinded by the flash of their gun. Then they tried to trace, in the glare of the searchlight, the flight of the shot-line. Straight and true it winged its way toward the stranded ship. Then a rush of scurrying forms on the Capitol City told the watchers on the Iroquois that the shot had carried true. In a moment more the crew of the Capitol City were hauling in the little shot-line.

Already a heavier line had been bent to the end of the light shot-line, but first it had been passed out through one of the quarter chocks. Steadily the crew of the Capitol City drew this heavier line aboard their craft. This in turn was followed by a heavy hawser. But Captain Hardwick had no intention of risking defeat through the use of so uncertain a towing line as a manila hawser. He meant to make fast to the Capitol City with a wire cable. To that end young Belford had been busy with the blinkers, and the flashing lights of the Capitol City’s yardarm had answered back. Captain Hardwick had apprised his fellow-commander of his intention, and warned him of the necessity of heaving the heavy wire cable an inch at a time, as it was paid out cautiously by the Iroquois. No buoyancy had this line, like a manila hawser. Like a plummet it would drop to the bottom of the sea, and once it started to run, out it would go its full length.

Steadily the rope hawser was paid out, and steadily it was pulled aboard the Capitol City. Then the end of the wire cable, bent to the hawser, was lowered, and foot by foot, with a caution hardly credible, the handful of men on the Iroquois responded to the tug on the line and let the wire cable slide through the quarter chock. At the same time Captain Hardwick drifted the Iroquois closer and closer to the vessel on the shoals.

At last the steel cable was aboard the Capitol City, and safe about her bitts. The other end was now made fast to the bitts of the Iroquois. The great, unbreakable, steel cable now stretched from ship to ship. With all the power at her command, the little cutter would presently strain at this line. At this same time she would heave in her anchor-chain, and the vast length of this enormous chain, reaching hundreds of fathoms out into the ocean, and weighing tons upon tons, would add to the anchor a gripping force that would hold like the rock of Gibraltar. Like a man pulling himself up a rope, arm over arm, the little cutter would heave itself along the length of this anchor-chain with the full power of both its propeller and its heaving engine, and behind it would come the Capitol City—perhaps.

Time alone would tell. And now all was ready. Steam was up on both ships, ready for the supreme effort. It remained only for the tide to reach flood, but how slowly it now seemed to advance. Up and up it rose, creeping higher and higher up the sides of the stranded ship, the lacy edges of the waves foaming ever higher on the sandy beach. Anxiously the captain kept his watch. Now, with careful eye, he studied the heavens. Now he bent his gaze upon the tumultuous sea. Now he went forward, and with his own hands examined the anchor-chain and looked at all its mechanism for heaving. Again he went aft and studied the arrangement of the hawser, appraising with practised eye the lay of the two vessels, the sweep of the waves, the movement of the tide.

High indeed this was, and as the water mounted ever higher on the Capitol City’s side, and the leadsman found more and more depth beneath the Iroquois, the captain’s face showed ever-growing confidence. From time to time he talked with the master of the Capitol City, with young Belford as his intermediary. Anon he studied the skies and noted with satisfaction the steady abatement of the wind. As the time drew near for the tide to be at flood, the eager commander paced the deck, impatient for the trial. Yet with eagle eye he watched the tide. At last the critical moment arrived. The commander’s judgment told him it was time to be moving. The tide was not yet quite at flood, but it was high, extremely high. It would not mount much higher. When it turned, the very volume of it would cause it to run out fast.

Briskly he mounted to the bridge. “Tell the Capitol City we’re going to move,” he called to the radio man. “Tell the captain to put on full speed astern.”

Above, the blinker lights flashed forth their calls, and promptly from the Capitol City came answering flashes. The ship would turn on her power. Meantime the indicator in the engine room of the Iroquois communicated its message to the men at the engines. The propeller began to move, slowly at first, then faster, then at full speed. Forward, the heaving engine began to strain at the anchor-cable. The little cutter trembled and shook with the effort. Loud rumbled the churning machinery in her hold.