Aug 17, 1200. SMS Nürberg, Aground, Portland Inlet.
At noon, the galley served pork chops and potatoes from Anyox to the crew and guests up on deck. By now, the tide was coming in vigorously. The isthmus beach had disappeared under water and
Nürnberg’s stern was afloat again. The water passing by her stranded hull even gave her a bit of a bow wave. Von Schönberg had divers put over the side to inspect the rudders and screws. The divers trailed safety lines so as not to get swept away back to Anyox. When they returned, the divers reported all seemed to be fine.
“By the Grace of God,” said Von Schönberg.
The fog remained at thick as ever. After the mid-day dinner, the band set up, and began to play again. This time their repertoire seemed to be all classical and German. They played Beethoven, and Bach, and Mozart. About 45 minutes later, while Ode to Joy was reaching its crescendo, the
Nürnberg shifted and began swaying with the current. On the bridge, Von Schönberg, ordered the engines Astern Slow.
Nürnberg pulled free. She backed out into the channel, turned, and headed towards deeper water.
At this moment, the
Camosun broke free from her ledge, and drifted upstream, keel skyward and slowly sinking, until she was lost in the fog.
“Well then, let us continue,” said Von Schönberg. “Helm, keep the
Prince Rupert in sight. First Lieutenant, you have the bridge. I am going to make a request while the band is playing.”
When he got to the boat deck, the musicians were just staring to tidy things away. Von Schönberg approached the Minister conductor, thanked him very much for the performance, and asked if a request could be played. The Minister was charmed, and replied he would do his best.
“Do you know
Heil dir im Siegerkranz?” asked Von Schönberg.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I have not heard of that one.” The Minister said sadly.
“How about God Save The King?”
“Yes, of course we can play that.” He spoke to the musicians. The Minister thought the choice a bit odd, but he and his people were being treated well, and wished to show respect.
He cued up the band with his baton, the horns played the four note intro, then dove into the first verse. When all of the crew on deck snapped to attention and joined in with booming martial song, in German, the Minister was surprised.
Heil dir im Siegerkranz,
Herrscher des Vaterlands!
Heil, Kaiser, dir!
Fühl in des Thrones Glanz
Die hohe Wonne ganz,
Liebling des Volks zu sein!
Heil Kaiser, dir!
As the verses unfolded, and the Minister dredged through his very poor German to follow the lyrics, he noticed the frequent repetition of words like
Vaterlands and
Heil Kaiser, and figured this was not an ordinary song. The sailors on deck on the other ship had lined up on the rail to belt out the song across the foggy inlet. By the fifth verse, the Minister was wondering if playing the enemy’s national anthem to their military forces in a time of war constituted actual treason on his part. He figured that as a man of the cloth he was probably exempt, and in any case, there would be a lack of witnesses who would testify.
Sei, Kaiser Wilhelm, hier
Lang deines Volkes Zier,
Der Menschheit Stolz!
Fühl in des Thrones Glanz,
Die hohe Wonne ganz,
Liebling des Volks zu sein!
Heil, Kaiser, dir![
“Well, that should do wonders for morale, after the setback of the grounding,” said Von Schönberg. “Navigator, how long until we are in open waters?”
Nürnberg’s chart room now featured a full, up do date set of charts taken from the
Amur.
“At 10 knots, and truly moving at 7 knots against the tide, we will be leave Portland Inlet and enter Chatham Sound in an hour and a half.
And how long to Prince Rupert harbour from there?
The navigator worked his divider and parallel rules across the charts. “If the fog keeps up, 30 nautical miles, at 8 knots, about three and a half hours to the harbour entrance. If the fog lifts, an hour and a half at 18 knots.
“Signals,” ordered Von Schönberg, “send a message to the
Prince Rupert.”
MEETING OF COMMAND OFFICERS ON BOARD NURNBERG 1315 HOURS