CHAPTER XIX
U-boat versus Motor-boat
For the next few days the work of turning chaos into order and knocking raw material into fairly smart crews proceeded apace. Patience and energy overcame difficulties, and although there were many ludicrous displays afloat, "George Robey's Marines", as they were dubbed by the Fisherton seafolk, managed to make considerable headway without any serious accident.
The crew told off under Derek's orders were a mixed lot. One was a solicitor, another a master from a public school, numbers three and four were bank clerks, while the fifth was a Lancashire coal-miner. Once having overcome the tendency to refer to the boat as "it", and to the bows as the "pointed end", they began to get into shape. Mornings they spent in lecture-rooms ashore, listening to and trying to master the theory of compass-work, knots and splices, and the use of the lead-line. This instruction was varied by lessons in signalling, the intricacies of the Naval and International Codes, semaphore and Morse being patiently explained by the Signalling Instructor—a hard-working individual whose soul appeared to be wrapped up in bunting from the eight a.m. parade to five and after seven-thirty in the evening.
In the afternoon the classes went afloat, while those who had been in the boats during the morning were told off for instruction on shore. Altogether it was a case of long hours and diligent application, and to their credit the men rose nobly to the occasion.
It was a proud day for Derek when for the first time he took his boat across the bar and out to the open sea. His command, from the stern of which the White Ensign floated grandly in the breeze, was a half-decked motor-craft of thirty-five feet in length. The engine was completely under cover, being placed well for'ard. Abaft the half-deck was an open well, fitted with a canvas "dodger", that afforded slight protection from wind and spray. Here were stationed the coxswain and the engineer, while usually the officer in charge would take up his post by the coxswain. Abaft the well was a fairly spacious cock-pit, provided with a folding awning that in heavy weather afforded complete protection from rain and spray. "All out", the boat was capable of doing seventeen knots, although it was customary to run her at only half throttle.
"Let go, for'ard! Cast off!"
"All clear, sir!"
"Easy ahead!"
With a gentle motion the motor-boat glided away from the pier on her first run under Lieutenant Derek Daventry's command, then, gathering speed, headed down the buoyed channel towards the distant Bar Buoy, while Derek, with frequent references to a chart, stood by the none-too-competent coxswain.