CHAPTER VI
WE LEAVE HOME WATERS
Nobly, nobly Cape Saint Vincent to the north-west died away;
Sunset ran, one glorious blood-red, reeking into Cadiz Bay;
Bluish ’mid the burning water, full in face Trafalgar lay;
In the dimmest north-east distance, dawned Gibraltar grand and gray;
“Here and here did England help me,—how can I help England?—say.”
R. Browning.
Next day we took on 400 tons of coal, and in the evening weighed and proceeded to Portland, where we arrived next morning.
That evening the whole of the 2nd Fleet arrived and anchored, and on the following morning the second division of our squadron went out again for sub-calibre firing, the first division remaining at anchor. In the evening the Padre came on board to join. The second division returned to harbour at 4 o’clock, and at about 7 p.m. we received a signal ordering all ships in harbour to raise steam for fifteen knots and proceed to sea as soon as they were ready.
On our ship the hoisting in of all boats was commenced at once. The picket boat came in without a hitch, but, when the pinnace was hoisted clear of the water the after leg of the slings parted and she had to be lowered back. As we were in a hurry the Commander then took control of operations, and had a 3½-inch wire hawser rove three times round the stern of the boat, and then made fast to the ring at the head of the slings. When she was once more lifted clear of the water her stern was heard to crack, but we were already delaying the fleet and no time could be spared to lower her down again and readjust the hawser, so, though the stern continued to crack and give, and finally crushed in like an egghell, the boat was hoisted and lowered into the crutches, and we proceeded to sea with the others.
This incident was pure bad luck and not due to faulty seamanship—had the pinnace been a new boat the stern would easily have withstood the strain, but she was nearly twenty years old and her planks were weakened by age.