We passed the wrecks of the two torpedo boats, passed the mouth of Santiago harbor, till finally we came to the "Almirante Oquendo" and the "Maria Teresa," fifteen miles west of old Morro.
The two wrecks lay close together. They were a melancholy sight; the "Almirante Oquendo," badly listed to port, a great rent in her side, rusted, almost completely demolished. The "Maria Teresa" seemed in better shape, but many shot holes were visible in her side.
It was a dreary though gratifying sight. The great green-clothed mountains looked down serenely on these two examples of man's handiwork and man's destructiveness; the blue sea dashed itself to foam against the coral-bound coast; and the bright sun shone over all.
The admiral went over in our gig, together with the captain and executive officer. Several other boats went along, carrying, beside the regular crews, commissioned and chief petty officers.
As we watched the boats bobbing in the short billows on their way, we, who were left behind, could not help comparing these battered hulks before us with our magnificent ships in Guantanamo Bay.
All hail to the American seamen, "the men behind the guns"!