These he towed off to two trawlers anchored close by, waited for them to be emptied, and brought them back again to Saunders Pier. After that he lay off the pier for nearly an hour, and had some food and a smoke. The men boiled some water and made cocoa over a bogey, and he had a jolly, happy, exciting time yarning with Marchant, and listening to occasional rifle-shots which came from farther away towards the left flank—Jephson's Post way. Bubbles came back from patrolling the coast, and lay alongside him. "It's all quiet there along the coast, just a rifle-shot every now and then; no one along the beach. Isn't it a perfect night?"
It was actually the most perfect night imaginable; hardly a breath of wind, hardly a ripple on the water, and the moon lighted up the cliffs and Suvla Point as distinctly as in day-time. Hardly a sound reached them, and the rocks of Suvla Point prevented them seeing anything going on inside the bay. It was all as peaceful as a picnic.
But about half-past one those two trawlers, to which the Orphan had taken his boats with the baggage, went aground; and the Orphan was sent round to "'A' West", inside the bay, to bring out the Senior Beach-master. For nearly four hours he worked, laying out anchors and taking wires across to a big tug.
Some time after six o'clock, just before the moon actually disappeared, and before the two trawlers floated off, he had to go along the coast, pick up his two cutters—they had seen or heard nothing—then pick up the big launch and pinnace, and tow them back to Kephalo. It was only when he went back to Saunders Pier for those two big boats that the Orphan heard that everything had "gone off" without a single hitch, and without the Turks having shown the least sign that their suspicions had been aroused.
Hearing this, you can imagine how joyfully he and Marchant, the coxswain, started on their twelve-mile journey back to Kephalo. Those tows of boats must be away, out of sight, before daylight; so they put their "best leg foremost", and steamed in through the harbour just after seven o'clock, finding a large captured German steamer anchored there, and simply packed with troops from Suvla.
Most of the other ten picket-boats had arrived back previously, because the night's job at Anzac had been successfully completed by half-past one in the morning, and the six boats on duty there had started back not very long afterwards.
The excitement and the enthusiasm of everyone, due to the successful accomplishment of the first night's work, kept the midshipmen awake. Most of the picket-boats gathered close together under the lee of the sunken Oruba. The crews cooked their breakfasts, ate them—jolly good rations of army bacon, any amount of bread and jam—yarned, and laughed, and smoked. They fetched "Kaiser Bill" out of his box and tempted him with a cabbage leaf, but he turned up his nose at it. Then Bubbles and the Orphan went alongside the Achates to coal and water; rushed inboard to get a wash and a bit more breakfast, to tell everyone down in the gun-room—the Hun, the China Doll, Uncle Podger, and the Pimple—everything that had happened, and go back to their boats again.
"You didn't mind me sending you 'Kaiser Bill'?" Fletcher, waiting outside the gun-room, asked the Orphan.
"Rather not; it was jolly good of you to lend him to us. He brought us good luck the first night, at any rate."
"I'm sure he'll bring you luck to-night as well, sir."