The Corsair in the war zone

by Ralph Delahaye Paine

With a sea anchor out, the Dagfin had been lying broadside to the waves, and this could not have increased the comfort of her crew. She was swept and drenched and miserable, and, at best, there is no luxury in a two-thousand-ton Norwegian tramp. At last the wind lost something of its evil temper and the sea was less confused. On the morning of September 12th the Corsair tried to get a line aboard, after receiving another radio from Brest, “Take Dagfin in tow when weather permits.” It was still too rough to put a boat over, so Commander Porter steamed to windward and attempted to float a line, buoyed by empty boxes, to the Dagfin, but the freighter’s drift was so much greater than the yacht’s that this scheme failed.

THE DAGFIN, BROKEN DOWN AND HELPLESS. THE CORSAIR STANDS BY

Nothing daunted, the skipper of the Corsair hauled his own ship around to leeward and deftly placed her where the line floated so close to the Dagfin that it was caught and hauled up by a boat-hook as she drifted upon it. To this light line the Corsair secured one hundred and fifty fathoms of ten-inch manila hawser, and the Dagfin heaved it aboard with a turn about the winch. To the end of the hawser the Norwegians bent fifty fathoms of chain, for the longer the tow-line the easier the strain in heavy weather. The Corsair secured her end of the hawser by means of a wire span leading to the two after gun mounts, and then she was ready to go ahead and pull her heart out. It is needless to remark that the yacht had not been designed or built to yank disabled freighters through the Bay of Biscay in the tail-end of a nasty gale of wind.

They went ahead, Corsair and Dagfin, and worked up to a speed of five knots, reducing it a trifle when the strain seemed too great. They slogged along in this manner until 8.30 P.M. when the chain parted and the Dagfin went adrift. Commander Porter describes the rest of it in his report:

We observed that the Dagfin had broken adrift, and when attempting to haul in our tow-line I found that it was weighted with the Dagfin’s chain which had parted in the hawse-pipe. A six-inch line was bent and used as a messenger to the forward capstan, but as this would hold only four turns, which rendered, the starboard capstan was used to assist. No lead blocks of sufficient size were available to keep the line clear of the deck-house, and both houses were damaged. It was difficult to stopper and secure the messenger to the wet hawser. This was chafed its entire length, although the ship went ahead slowly to angle the hawser slightly and reduce the bend over the lip of the chock.

After three hours’ work the hawser was all in and the chain let go. Had conditions been favorable, of course the chain could have been hove in through the hawse-pipe, but I desired to intercept the French tug Penguin, sent out from Brest, which was then close by. The strain had unlaid the hawser, and releasing the chain allowed the turns to take up again. Removing numerous kinks from a wet, ten-inch rope is a long, tedious job.

As the tug had passed us in the night and was not in sight at daylight, I closed in to pick up our tow. Attempting to throw a line on board, we could not get near enough to reach, as there was still a moderate swell and we were both rolling and surging. A boat was lowered and our hawser bent to the Dagfin’s cable, and at 7.45 A.M. we went ahead at six knots. The average speed for twenty-six and a half hours was actually six and a quarter knots.

At 8.15 the Penguin arrived and I had difficulty in communicating, as she could not comprehend semaphore signals nor was our language perfectly clear to them. Our radio communication had been very good, although I was more reluctant to use it than was the Penguin, especially in stating latitude and longitude. To my question, “What are your orders?” the reply was, “Bordeaux.” She also informed me that she could tow four knots and as this would not bring us into port before dark of the following day, I decided to continue towing and requested that the Penguin escort. I considered that the advantages of greater speed and a much shorter time at sea gave us the larger margin of safety.

In my opinion (with a very limited experience in towing) the method adopted was by far the best way of towing a ship. Not only is the windlass usually the strongest and most convenient place to secure to, but in the absence of a very long hawser the weight of chain sagging down makes an effective spring. There was never any undue strain and the Dagfin’s chain could not have parted if it had been in good condition.