The cumulative mental stresses felt by a nations citizens when at war is something not usually discussed within historical circles although as will be seen shortly, it is a key consideration that can tip the scales of any conflict. The initial British declaration of war on August 4 had lit the fire of paranoia up under the Canadian people on both coasts but as one could surmise, the far more vulnerable West Coast felt this panic far more personally. People had teetered between deft stubbornness that nothing would happen to their sleepy corner of the world and the typical panicked attitude that the province was about to explode and sink into the depths of the Pacific at any moment. It is rather obvious which side was vindicated when news reached the Canadian public regarding the sinking of
HMCS Rainbow but for all of the increased panic and fervor against the German population of the area, the following days returned to the incredibly tense but monotonous cycle of wartime life. Lighthouse keepers stood at the ready with binoculars in hand, militiamen went about in their preplanned defensive tasks and the everyday citizen was left to go about their days. Now lacking any proper warship defenses besides the pair of currently unarmed submarines, citizens seemed to cope in various ways. Some went about their daily lives with nothing but the nagging worry of the war in the back of their minds while others packed up from their coastal residences and moved inland as far as possible. Local banks in the area moved valuables away in attempts to avoid the enterprising grasp of any dastardly Huns while some businesses closed entirely, causing more panic as limited shortages of goods began to appear around some areas.
A pair of gentlemen admire the view from Grouse Mountain, this particular shot showing casing Stanley Park and Point Grey, the locations of the 4" harbor defense battery and Point Grey Wireless stations respectively.
The Royal Canadian Navy within the area had not faired much better in the days leading up to the events of August 16, the influx of reports and sightings of ‘suspicious vessels’ kept them on constant alert. With
Rainbow out of the picture, the Navy relied upon its substantial network of wireless stations, lighthouses, and government patrol vessels to hopefully either sight any enemy vessels themselves or help filter valuable information from civil hysteria. If an enemy warship actually tried to attack British Columbia proper, all bets were off on what would happen. One example from the hundreds of false reports was that of German submarines being spotted operating off the isolated coastal town of Prince Rupert, which was rectified after the Fisheries Patrol vessel
CGS Galiano was dispatched to the scene. With hindsight or even a partial knowledge of submarine capacity of the time, it was incredibly unlikely that a squadron of German U-Boats had somehow made it into BC waters, although assuming had its own set of dangers. It was quickly found that a raft of logs had been scattered into the sea from a nearby logging area, giving the impression of submarines running on the surface. Wireless stations and patrol vessels suffered commonly from issues with signal interference and losses of power in this area of the world which while normal, only served to raise tensions in wartime even higher. It was a gamble to dispatch valuable vessels to investigate a potentially lost vessel or irresponsible station when in reality, it would be perfectly functional and simply having difficulties. This mixture of paranoia and nervous complacency played hell with the sensibilities of military personnel in the area, especially as the German cruiser
Leipzig had not been spotted since her encounter with
Rainbow on August 11.
There was no evidence pointing to where the German cruiser could be, she could be off the coast of Mexico, out in the deep Pacific or lurking off the shores of British Columbia. The entire German East Asia Squadron was currently at large within the Pacific itself, meaning reinforcements for the lone cruiser could come any day. Their own reinforcements in the form of the Town class cruiser
HMS Newcastle was not projected to reach them until around the very end of August while the potential for Japanese intervention could happen if their ultimatum against Germany was not met by August 23. Commander Charles William Trousdale was made acting officer in command of Esquimalt and the Royal Canadian Navy after he made land from
HMS Shearwater, largely as a replacement for the presumed dead Commander Walter Hose of
Rainbow. Commander Trousdale attempted to take charge of the situation but finding himself in a similar position to Premier McBride which he shared a close working relationship, there was little he could do but sit and wait. As fate would have it, he would not have to wait long. The pair of German vessels had been incredibly lucky in their run up to and past the Esquimalt/Victoria coastal defenses given how they were completely undetected but as they both made the passage through the Haro Strait and dawn approached, it was only a matter of time before they were spotted by some party.
Ironically, the very first spotting was not reported by the Canadians, but by the Americans.
Leipzig was steaming nearly at full speed along the boundary line at roughly 0440 hours when the United States Revenue Cutter Service vessel
Manning caught first sight of the suspicious ship. The following message was broadcasted from the wireless set of
Manning in an attempt to inform her fellow cutters in the area although strangely, the message was not encoded.
USRC MANNING TO USRC TAHOMA ONE WARSHIP SPOTTED TRAVELING NORTHWEST HIGH SPEED ON CANADIAN SIDE. FLYING JAPANESE NAVAL ENSIGN.
USS Manning providing naval gunfire support for US Army personnel at Cabañas, Cuba. Being subjected to various amounts of service in the Spanish American War was relatively commonplace for Revenue Cutters of the period.
It is unknown why standard protocol was not followed in this exact moment however, the message was picked up by the Point Grey Wireless Station and relayed to Canadian authorities. In the 30-minute period it took for the proper authorities to receive the process this information,
Leipzig had reached the point in which the boundary line with the United States ended, perpendicular to Point Roberts.
Algerine merrily sauntered on at her glacial top speed somewhere between Moresdy Island and South Pender Island at this time, unable to keep pace with the much nimbler cruiser.
Algerine had been spotted by the Turn Point Lighthouse operator but due to the fact this particular operator fell under the US Government control and vessels like
Algerine were a regular sight in these waters, the report was unheard by Canadian officials. The response from Esquimalt was something close to dismay initially, before turning into a cautious panic. Esquimalt had not been informed that a Japanese warship would be transiting these waters and even stranger, why had such a vessel simply bypassed Esquimalt and move further inland? The behavior was certainly strange and while the report had a chance to be incorrect, a sighting by an organization as scrupulous as Revenue Cutter Service was unlikely to be a mistake. The situation had to be resolved or at least clarified somehow and with the amount of resources available to them, the options were rather limited.
CGS Malaspina was still patrolling the strait and would not be due back in time to assist, the pair of submarines were unavailable at current notice within Esquimalt and most of the other commandeered vessels in the area were currently stationed further north supplying militiamen and equipment to remote stations.
The only vessel available at the time was
HMCS/CGS Restless, a 76 ton, 22m long former tugboat of the Fisheries Protection Service that was taken over by the Royal Canadian Navy for examination duties in the area. While she was armed with a single 6 pdr gun forward, her main weapon in this situation would be her wireless set.
Restless had already departed Vancouver Harbor just after dawn at that morning to relieve
Malaspina on patrol duties, being absent that previous night as she had finally received repairs for collision damage days prior. The tug was rerouted to stay off Vancouver with strict orders to report any sightings of the vessel in question alongside any other suspicious vessels. A sacrificial lamb if there ever had been one,
Restless had just left Burrard Inlet and was present off the Northwest side of Point Grey at 0600 when she spotted an oncoming vessel flying the Japanese naval ensign.
Little known to the dreary eyed people of Vancouver and the surrounding area on this seemingly peaceful morning, what would later be know as the
Raid on British Columbia had finally begun.