The Rainbow. A World War One on Canada's West Coast Timeline
- Thread starter YYJ
- Start date
Curiosity, protecting a kill, protecting young. A bunch of reasons especially with a grizzly
Grizzlies are carnivores and young black bears are on their menu........young grizzlies as well.Humans too.
The grizzly WILL try to shake them out of the tree if it thinks that it can. He will also be willing to stick around and try to wait them out, failing more promising prospects for dinner.
Essentially, anything that isn't a healthy, adult moose is an option.
Amazing Grace
Aug 17, 0900. SMS Nürnberg, Aground, Portland Inlet.
“Damage report!”
Two minutes later a report came back that there did not seem to be any water in the bilges. Von Schönberg ran to the bow and looked down. Through the fog, he could see water lapping over a sand isthmus that connected the small rocky island on their port to the mainland. Nürnberg’s bow was sitting on a submerged beach, and was lifted almost a meter from her normal stance.
Von Schönberg walked to the stern. Engineering crew were looking down into the water with concern. “Astern one half!” he ordered to the aft bridge. Water churned beneath Nürnberg’s stern. The water roiled up brown with sand. The cruiser did not budge.
Nürnberg was stuck fast.
Back at the bridge, Von Schönberg consulted the tide charts. The tide would be going out for another hour. He looked at the shore. The tideline on the shore, where the terrestrial plants gave way to marine growth, was at least 4 meters above the current sea level. He ordered a message sent to Prince Rupert by Morse light.
NURNBERG HARD AGROUND NO OTHER DAMAGE EXPECT TO FLOAT FREE IN TWO TO THREE HOURS STOP WILL SCUTTLE IF IN DANGER OF CAPTURE
The sound of explosions came from astern. The Camosun, aground against the cliff 150 meters away, slowly capsized to her port until she rested on her side, her funnel parallel with the sea and half submerged.
Von Schönberg considered his options. If Nürnberg was truly lost, all of her crew and the prize passengers could be evacuated to the Prince Rupert. The steamer could theoretically continue as an auxiliary cruiser, and continue to take prizes. With her light armament she would be helpless against any warship, but then Nürnberg had not encountered any opposition yet herself. Prince Rupert had the speed, boats, and demolition charges to continue Nürnberg’s work. Come a declaration of war from Japan, expected on the 23rd, the East Asiatic Squadron forces on the West Coast of Canada, whatever their composition, would have to head out to open ocean anyway to avoid superior Japanese forces, and run south, perhaps to resume commerce raiding off South America.
He had been avoiding wireless transmissions so as to not give away his position. But as soon as he was discovered, Von Schönberg was intending to send a message to Leipzig. Linking up would be more effective if Von Schönberg still had a light cruiser under his command. But having Radl as an asset, someone who knew the waters and the local industries, would benefit Haun of the Leipzig in the same way he had helped Von Schönberg.
And there was still the matter of the German Trade Commissioner in Barclay Sound, who he had been ordered to extract. He did not understand why that ranked at the level of importance that his orders gave. But he was merely a Captain. His duty was to execute his orders.
On the other hand, perhaps the best way to disrupt the trade on the Pacific Coast of Canada was to have Prince Rupert sit offshore and broadcast false messages using Nürnberg’s call sign until she ran out of fuel. So he had a wealth of possibilities, and none of his lines of attack were seriously compromised by losing the Nürnberg. And while he was telling himself that, his eyes kept flicking to the clock face, to see if the tide was ready to float her free yet.
Von Schönberg could not tell how long the music had been playing before he noticed it, so deep he had been in his thoughts. A brass band was playing. He got up from his sea cabin and walked to the deck. The song, he believed, was Lavenham, an English hymn. He walked aft, mingling with the crew. The Kincolith band was arranged under the mainmast, their instruments were brightly polished and shone, despite the close fog. The band’s dark blue uniforms were sharply arranged. An Anglican Minister conducted. The music was sublime and uplifting, and flawlessly played.
On the shore a few impossibly tall fir trees loomed out of the fog far above the tops of Nürnberg’s funnels. The crews attending the ships guns stood and listened, some holding their hats in their hands. A lookout holding binoculars stood and listened. Von Schönberg sidled up to the sailor and quietly said, “It is possible to watch the sea and listen at the same time.”
The lookout startled. “Yes sir,” he replied in a stage whisper, and returned smartly to his post. The lifting notes of the music made Von Schönberg’s heart soar, despite the gloom of their situation. Some of the songs he recognized, some he did not. Abide With Me, All Things Bright and Beautiful, Laudate Dominum, Amazing Grace. Other hymns that must be part of Anglican Church canon. He cringed when the band played Nearer My God To Thee. “Not the song the band on the Titanic played as she was sinking. My God indeed.” The entire time, Prince Rupert held station, just barely visible in the fog. She had stopped sounding her fog horn, on the reasoning that any other vessel out would be sounding theirs. As the water level lowered, the Camosun shifted on her perch, until she ended up suspended on a rock shelf upside down, with her battered superstructure dipping down into the water.
The band played for over an hour. When they finished, Von Schönberg noticed it was slack tide. The bow of the Nürnberg was on dry land, the fantail deck almost awash. A party of officers and engineers climbed down onto the sand to inspect. The bow had dug a deep furrow in the sand and gravel. The stern-down aspect exaggerated the perspective of the ram bow. Much of the grey paint had been scraped off in their recent boarding foray, the bow showed deep dents and much bare metal, and was wearing an abstract mural of Camousun’s paint. The officers posed for a jaunty group picture, leaning against the towering bow.
Von Schönberg noticed quite an accumulation of marine growth on the cruiser’s hull. “That will cost us a knot or two,” he said to the chief engineer.
“Maybe a knot, sir,” replied the engineer, “but we’ve done a pretty good job of scraping off whatever was on the bottom.”
“I thought we were joking,” said Von Schönberg. “But you might as well have whatever of the hull that can be reached scraped clean. Have something good come from this opportunity.”
https://atom.moa.ubc.ca/index.php/kincolith-gingolx-band
“Damage report!”
Two minutes later a report came back that there did not seem to be any water in the bilges. Von Schönberg ran to the bow and looked down. Through the fog, he could see water lapping over a sand isthmus that connected the small rocky island on their port to the mainland. Nürnberg’s bow was sitting on a submerged beach, and was lifted almost a meter from her normal stance.
Von Schönberg walked to the stern. Engineering crew were looking down into the water with concern. “Astern one half!” he ordered to the aft bridge. Water churned beneath Nürnberg’s stern. The water roiled up brown with sand. The cruiser did not budge.
Nürnberg was stuck fast.
Back at the bridge, Von Schönberg consulted the tide charts. The tide would be going out for another hour. He looked at the shore. The tideline on the shore, where the terrestrial plants gave way to marine growth, was at least 4 meters above the current sea level. He ordered a message sent to Prince Rupert by Morse light.
NURNBERG HARD AGROUND NO OTHER DAMAGE EXPECT TO FLOAT FREE IN TWO TO THREE HOURS STOP WILL SCUTTLE IF IN DANGER OF CAPTURE
The sound of explosions came from astern. The Camosun, aground against the cliff 150 meters away, slowly capsized to her port until she rested on her side, her funnel parallel with the sea and half submerged.
Von Schönberg considered his options. If Nürnberg was truly lost, all of her crew and the prize passengers could be evacuated to the Prince Rupert. The steamer could theoretically continue as an auxiliary cruiser, and continue to take prizes. With her light armament she would be helpless against any warship, but then Nürnberg had not encountered any opposition yet herself. Prince Rupert had the speed, boats, and demolition charges to continue Nürnberg’s work. Come a declaration of war from Japan, expected on the 23rd, the East Asiatic Squadron forces on the West Coast of Canada, whatever their composition, would have to head out to open ocean anyway to avoid superior Japanese forces, and run south, perhaps to resume commerce raiding off South America.
He had been avoiding wireless transmissions so as to not give away his position. But as soon as he was discovered, Von Schönberg was intending to send a message to Leipzig. Linking up would be more effective if Von Schönberg still had a light cruiser under his command. But having Radl as an asset, someone who knew the waters and the local industries, would benefit Haun of the Leipzig in the same way he had helped Von Schönberg.
And there was still the matter of the German Trade Commissioner in Barclay Sound, who he had been ordered to extract. He did not understand why that ranked at the level of importance that his orders gave. But he was merely a Captain. His duty was to execute his orders.
On the other hand, perhaps the best way to disrupt the trade on the Pacific Coast of Canada was to have Prince Rupert sit offshore and broadcast false messages using Nürnberg’s call sign until she ran out of fuel. So he had a wealth of possibilities, and none of his lines of attack were seriously compromised by losing the Nürnberg. And while he was telling himself that, his eyes kept flicking to the clock face, to see if the tide was ready to float her free yet.
Von Schönberg could not tell how long the music had been playing before he noticed it, so deep he had been in his thoughts. A brass band was playing. He got up from his sea cabin and walked to the deck. The song, he believed, was Lavenham, an English hymn. He walked aft, mingling with the crew. The Kincolith band was arranged under the mainmast, their instruments were brightly polished and shone, despite the close fog. The band’s dark blue uniforms were sharply arranged. An Anglican Minister conducted. The music was sublime and uplifting, and flawlessly played.
On the shore a few impossibly tall fir trees loomed out of the fog far above the tops of Nürnberg’s funnels. The crews attending the ships guns stood and listened, some holding their hats in their hands. A lookout holding binoculars stood and listened. Von Schönberg sidled up to the sailor and quietly said, “It is possible to watch the sea and listen at the same time.”
The lookout startled. “Yes sir,” he replied in a stage whisper, and returned smartly to his post. The lifting notes of the music made Von Schönberg’s heart soar, despite the gloom of their situation. Some of the songs he recognized, some he did not. Abide With Me, All Things Bright and Beautiful, Laudate Dominum, Amazing Grace. Other hymns that must be part of Anglican Church canon. He cringed when the band played Nearer My God To Thee. “Not the song the band on the Titanic played as she was sinking. My God indeed.” The entire time, Prince Rupert held station, just barely visible in the fog. She had stopped sounding her fog horn, on the reasoning that any other vessel out would be sounding theirs. As the water level lowered, the Camosun shifted on her perch, until she ended up suspended on a rock shelf upside down, with her battered superstructure dipping down into the water.
The band played for over an hour. When they finished, Von Schönberg noticed it was slack tide. The bow of the Nürnberg was on dry land, the fantail deck almost awash. A party of officers and engineers climbed down onto the sand to inspect. The bow had dug a deep furrow in the sand and gravel. The stern-down aspect exaggerated the perspective of the ram bow. Much of the grey paint had been scraped off in their recent boarding foray, the bow showed deep dents and much bare metal, and was wearing an abstract mural of Camousun’s paint. The officers posed for a jaunty group picture, leaning against the towering bow.
Von Schönberg noticed quite an accumulation of marine growth on the cruiser’s hull. “That will cost us a knot or two,” he said to the chief engineer.
“Maybe a knot, sir,” replied the engineer, “but we’ve done a pretty good job of scraping off whatever was on the bottom.”
“I thought we were joking,” said Von Schönberg. “But you might as well have whatever of the hull that can be reached scraped clean. Have something good come from this opportunity.”
https://atom.moa.ubc.ca/index.php/kincolith-gingolx-band
Driftless
Donor
Very nice! A bit off-topic, but does anyone know what is the small horn with the upright bell is just in front of the director? It's smaller than the Baritone horns to the right and larger than the trumpets/cornets.
Donald Reaver
Donor
Caught up on this one now, has been good. You have the "Nurnberg" doing radio jamming all the time, I believe that came later. Do have any link on that?
Seems the Nurnberg managed to get out of this relatively unscathed. Still, it was quite a delay.
Is it really a possibility that Japan will send forces to Canada's coastline to hunt Germans?
OTL, HIJMS Izumo arrived at Esquimalt on August 25, the first Entente warship to arrive as reinforcement to the Canadian West Coast.
https://books.google.ca/books?id=dWi7AwAAQBAJ&pg=PA51&lpg=PA51&dq=izumo+esquimalt&source=bl&ots=-fu-oKS11j&sig=ACfU3U1nBCopDdiMKOnZbTcH8Y1qHJ_v0g&hl=en&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwj8k-PM87XkAhV6HzQIHQouAXsQ6AEwBnoECAkQAQ#v=onepage&q=izumo esquimalt&f=false
Nürnberg and Leipzig both had been part of the international squadron off Mexico with Izumo, so they were familiar with the ship and knew it was close.
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Do you mean radio jamming was invented later than 1914? Jamming can be as simple as turning up the gain and holding down the send key. I have read many times that Craddock complained of "the Heavy Keys of The Germans," jamming him, although he and his crews all died in the Battle of Colonel so I don't know who would report this. Here is a link I could quickly find with a Google search on the history of radio jamming. Scroll down to post #5.
https://forum.axishistory.com/viewtopic.php?t=101307