Next morning the squadron received a signal ordering all ships to complete with coal immediately, and to proceed to sea without delay. By 4 o’clock all had weighed and left harbour, forming into line in sequence of fleet numbers as they cleared the boom.
That night we steamed at full speed to an unknown destination. Everything quivered and shook with the pounding of the engines and the throbbing of the screws, as we ploughed our way through the dark waters, following the little white patch where our next ahead’s shaded stern lamp lit up her creaming wake with a dim radiance for about a square yard.
The next morning we were up betimes, to find the whole squadron just entering Plymouth Harbour.
As soon as we were anchored we filled up with coal again, and the collier had hardly shoved off when up came a tug crowded with marines in landing kit, and laden with entrenching tools, barbed wire, ammunition, rifles, field guns, and all the varied paraphernalia of a land campaign.
No sooner had we got this party, consisting of 400 men with their officers and equipment, safely on board, and stowed all their gear away in the batteries, than a provision ship came alongside and was quickly secured fore and aft. The stump derricks were swung outboard, and soon the deck was littered with biscuit barrels, sugar casks, cases of bully beef, etc., etc.—not forgetting the inevitable jam. Willing hands rolled and carried all this stuff to hastily rigged derricks and davits, whence it was lowered down hatches, and thrown through skylights to men below, who caught each case as it came, and passed it on to others, who stowed it all away in the gun-room, the ward-room flat, the Captain’s cabin, and in fact anywhere and everywhere that space was to be found. Even so it was impossible to cope immediately with the steady stream which poured on deck from the capacious hold of the store-ship, although officers worked side by side with the men, issuing orders at the same time. Finally, when at last the store-ship was empty and had shoved off, and we weighed anchor and put to sea with the remainder of the fleet, our decks were still piled high with cases, and the work of stowing them away went on until 9 o’clock that night. There was no time for dinner, and while still working we ate ship’s biscuit from a barrel that had been accidentally broken open.
Once everything was safely bestowed below, we all went to night-defence stations.
The whole fleet was proceeding at top speed, leaving a gleaming phosphorescent track in its wake. Great clouds of luminous spray were flung aft from the fo’c’sle head as our ship buried her nose in the waves. The decks throbbed and rang to the stamping, pounding clang of the engines, and the stern quivered and shook with the throb, throb, thrash of the racing screws.
All next day we dashed up the English Channel, and early the following morning passed up the Straits of Dover.
A little before noon on the succeeding day, the 22nd of August, we passed the United States cruiser Carolina returning from Antwerp with citizens of the States, flying from the oncoming Huns, and at 8 o’clock we dropped anchor in Ostend outer roads.