Aug 21, 945 hours, SMS Princess Charlotte, Stuart Channel.
Princess Charlotte had steamed south, away from the devastation of Ladysmith harbour, at around 0730. In her wake, the angry smoke from the burning coal stocks and the cedar shingle mill was being blown east over the forested hills of Thetis Island. As the liner drew away from the hills surrounding Ladysmith harbour, the scale of the cloud of smoke rising from Nanaimo to the north had become clear.
“What could make a cloud like that?” Von Spee asked Radl rhetorically. Radl shrugged. “That is a massive explosion,” Von Spee continued. “Could that have been Leipzig’s magazines exploding?” He was concerned enough that he gave orders to attempt to raise Leipzig on the wireless, but received no reply, which made him even more concerned. But he stuck with his itinerary. Princess Charlotte continued steaming south down the centre of the mile wide Stuart Channel.
At 0745 she passed by the logging and sawmill town of Chemainus. A couple of scows, a tug, and the American barquentine
Kohala were moored at the mill wharf. “Not worth slowing down for,” said Von Spee, and Radl concurred.
To the north east, on Kuper Island, Von Spee could see a four story brick edifice, served by a wharf with extensive fenced gardens between the building and the ocean. “What is that place?” he asked, “a prison?” Through his binoculars, he now could see hundreds of children dressed in dark smocks watching the German raider steam past.
“That is the Kuper Island Residential School,” said Radl, “for Indian children. So yes, in a sense, it is a kind of prison. I heard that the children burned the school down in 1898, but the church brothers had it build back.” The rows of small faces watching looked especially sad to Von Spee.
Princess Charlotte continued down the inlet, past the broad estuary of the Chemainus River.
Von Spee now saw a pair of brick smokestacks on the south shore, and once beyond the scrub trees growing on the estuary flats, a collection of mill buildings with
Crofton painted on one of the roofs, a rail trestle, and a deep water loading pier extending out into the channel with a three train tracks and hopper and gantry piece of loading equipment at the wharf’s end. A boxcar and several flatcars sat on the wharftop. A tug and two barges were tied up there. Several rows of ore cars, apparently empty, and few more boxcars sat in the rail yard. The gantry was rusty, and no smoke rose from the stacks. Only a few workers were visible on the shore.
“The Crofton copper smelter,” said Radl. “I seem to recall it is bankrupt, and derelict. Those men might even be here to salvage the equipment.”
“If the cruiser captains have their way,” said Von Spee, “The coast of British Columbia will be very short of copper refining capacity. That smelter could be started up again more quickly that building back that smelter in Anyox, could it not?”
“I suppose you are right,” replied Radl. “In any case, it seems like an easy target. It is practically abandoned.” The
Princess Charlotte had the smallest target allotment and the shortest distance to steam of the three German raiders. So she had the greatest latitude to act against targets of opportunity.
“Prepare landing party!” Ordered Von Spee.
To speed their progress,
Princess Charlotte came alongside the mill loading wharf, and put twenty men ashore. 5.2cm guns, machineguns and pom-poms covered the landing party from the deck. The sailors quickly swept the mill buildings and facilities, took the skeleton crew of workers captive, and rigged anything that looked valuable or important to explode. In fifteen minutes they released the workers, sent them on their way, and lit the fuses. Soon the familiar sound of exploding dynamite rocked the morning air, and the smelter was collapsing in flames. The returning sailors lit the wharf on fire before boarding.
Princess Charlotte backed away from the wharf.
“Ship!” called a lookout.
The bow of a large ship was just emerging to the east from behind Grave Point.
“Liner,” the lookout said. “Range 4000 yards.” The ship continued to appear from behind the point. “Single funnel. Estimated displacement… over 6000 tons. Name on bow,
Marama. Merchant Ensign of New Zealand.” The channel to the east of Crofton Bay between Saltspring and Vancouver Islands was only 500 meters wide, and too narrow for the liner to easily turn and reverse its course.
“Helm! Bring us about!” ordered Von Spee.
Princess Charlotte was still backing away from the burning wharf, dead slow. She flew two large Imperial War Ensigns, one from each mast. “Wireless! Jam her transmissions! Signals! Send challenge! What is that liner doing here?”
“I wonder,” Radl answered. “Looking for coal? Avoiding German cruisers in other places and blundering into us here?”
The
Marama began to produce more smoke from her single stack. The New Zealand liner was already travelling at 8 knots, and was now visibly accelerating. The helmsman started backing
Princess Charlotte through 90 degrees, but Radl stopped him.
“You can’t back that way,” warned the pilot, “The water is too shallow, part of the estuary. You will have to go to the east.
Princess Charlotte lost precious minutes coming about. By the time Von Spee ordered the engine telegraph to forward, Marama was half way across the bay, and making at least 12 knots.
“Signals! Repeat challenge!” Ordered Von Spee. “All ahead full!”
“I have sent three challenges already,” replied the Signals Officer. “No reply.”
Princess Charlotte began to make headway forward, churning up the green water of the bay.
“Fire a warning shot!” ordered Von Spee.
“My money says he ignores the warning shot,” said Radl. “By the way he is maneuvering that ship, this captain looks like a stubborn man. Anyway, the shipping channel he is headed for takes a chicane to the south east in 4 miles. He will have to slow right down to make that 135 degree turn. As will we.”
Marama was heading due north now, between Saltspring and Kuper Islands, and still accelerating. On her high stern was painted her name and port of registry, Dunedin.
Princess Charlotte was following 3000 meters behind, and the gap was widening as the German had yet to comu up to speed.
The forward gun fired. A waterspout rose beside
Marama’s bow. Time passed with no response.
“Fire another warning shot!” ordered Von Spee.
“Told you,” said Radl.
The forward gun fired again, and placed a waterspout directly in front of
Marama’s bow. The liner was now doing at least 16 knots. A line of small inlands closing off the north end of the channel ahead was drawing closer.
“He is not going to make that dog-leg turn into Trincomali Channel at that speed,” said Radl. He paused and considered the situation. “He is not going to try. Navigator!” Radl strode over to the chart table and consulted the local sheet. He pointed to a gap in the chain of Islands ahead. “If he runs between those two islands, and then beyond, between Reid and Hall Islands, then he has a straight shot out Porlier Pass. There is depth, even for a liner that size. But the passes are so narrow, at this speed…” He laughed. “This is reckless beyond belief.”
“Fire on the liner!” ordered Von Spee. “Aim for her rudder!”
“Can we follow?” Von Spee asked Radl.
“That liner draws more water than the
Charlotte,” Radl replied. “So any channel she passes through we can. But the captain is inviting us to follow him to hell. We could easily hit some rock that he just happens to slide past. Are you a gambling man? Do you think chasing this madmad of a captain is worth risking the ship?”
“That Kiwi will be a troop ship if we let it go, no doubt.” said Von Spee.
The forward gun fired, and registered a hit on the big liner’s stern. Von Spee could see no effect, and the liner did not slow.
“Fire again!” he ordered.
Another shell struck
Marama’s stern
The navigable gap between small Norway Island and the first of the Secretary Islands to the south east was less than 200 meters, Radl figured. The
Marama was around 140 meters long, but only had a beam of around 15 meters, perhaps. The New Zealander seemed to have reached her maximum speed at around 17 knots, and she was threading that needle… just now. He watched the liner shoot between the small islands with clenched teeth. Radl realized that if the Kiwi did go up on a rock, the
Charlotte would run right up her backside.
“I almost feel like cheering,” Radl said to Von Spee as the
Marama passed into the open water beyond, and started lining on the next island gap.
“Save the cheering for us,” said Von Spee. Radl considered that the New Zealand captain might have decided against this duel of nerves if he had a chance to meet the young Von Spee first. Princess Charlotte approached the narrow gap.
A shell from
Princess Charlotte fell just short of the
Marama’s stern. The German liner tore through the narrow channel east of Norway Island at 19 knots. The tide was high, and her wake scoured the shore and floated some stranded logs. 2500 meters ahead the
Marama was running between the next set of islands. Radl looked at his chart.
“Ooohhh… The Kiwi passed very close to a reef there,” Radl exclaimed. “Helm, keep to the east in this channel.” The Germans were now clearly gaining on the racing
Marama. The two ships’ smoke trails intermingled as they drifted east on the wind. Another shell struck the New Zealander just below the fantail. The Marama changed heading slightly to the east, to line up on the entrance to Porlier Pass. On either side, Valdes and Galiano Islands formed one continuous ridge as far as the eye could see north and south, with the narrow slot of the pass showing the bright water of Georgia Strait beyond. “A ship that size cannot transit that pass at that speed,” said Radl. “A course change is needed at the midpoint. The west half of the pass is full of reefs. So is the east, really.” Another shell struck the
Marama astern.
Princess Charlotte passed between Reid and Hall Islands at 20 knots. Radl watched the trees go by, and held on to the bridge rail until the ship had left the islands behind. “Well, how about that,” he said, as the ship emerged into the main body of Trincomali Channel. “Two down, one to go.” The range to
Marama had closed to 2000 meters. The New Zealand liner was entering Porlier Pass, and showed no signs of slowing. On either side of the pass, fingers of land jutted out, hinting at concealed reefs continuing below the surface. A lighthouse marked the southern side of the pass. On the rail, a lighthouse keeper was frantically waving with semaphore flags. The bow gun fired again, and another shell hit the stern of the
Marama, near the waterline.
“Ahh, the Kiwi is too far west,” said Radl, “I’m not sure if she is answering her helm.” His eyes were flicking from the chart, out the wheelhouse windows and back again. The lighthouse keeper seemed to agree with Radl’s sentiment, and was leaping into the air to get the New Zealander’s attention. “Did we hit her rudder?”
The
Marama shuddered, and slowed, but her inertia carried her forward. A boom, and a screeching and grinding sound carried across the water. Princess Charlotte followed her into the pass.
“Well they have hit a reef there, for sure. Helm, keep us close to the east shore.” Radl said. “Even closer. Captain, we are moving too fast. We have to throw off some speed quickly.”
“Hold on! All astern full!” ordered Von Spee. The ship was racked with vibration as it rapidly lost way, and all the crew all leaned forward. “Ahead one third,” the captain ordered after a moment. He had to keep water moving forward over the rudder to be able to maneuver. Radl gave constant instructions to the helmsman.
To the north,
Marama was already settling, with a list to port and was losing speed, but still continued forward at about 10 knots, with a gradual turn to port. “I think the Kiwi left her rudder on that last rock,” said Radl. The smoke pouring from her funnel became grey. “I would bet all of her compartments are open to the sea.” The Marama shook again, slowed, then her bow reared up, exposing her anti-fouling paint, and came to a violent dead halt, with the sound of collision echoing across the pass.
“We are committed to transiting this pass now,” said Radl. “We have no room to turn about.” He continued to give the helmsman course corrections.
Von Spee looked south through his binoculars, and saw the lighthouse keeper standing on his tower, holding his head with both hands in disbelief. He turned to look at the
Marama. The bow was high on a submerged rock, but the stern had pivoted out into the channel, and was rapidly settling. Crewmen were up on the deck, preparing the lifeboats. More crewmen, some in boiler suits were emerging onto the deck. Dirty steam poured from the stack and some of the deck ventilators
“I only see crew, no passengers,” said Von Spee. “So that is a mercy.”
Princess Charlotte passed by the stranded
Marama. In just a few minutes, the New Zealander’s stern settled so that the sea was coming over top of the fantail. By the time the Germans had left the pass and entered the Strait of Georgia, half a dozen lifeboats had been launched, and the sea had covered the aft deck and was lapping at the base of the mainmast.
“Helm, take us south,” ordered Von Spee. As
Princess Charlotte turned to follow the eastern shore of Galiano Island, the
Marama gave a last screeching and grinding sound, and slid off the rock, stern first, into the channel, until only her foremast was visible above the sea.
Screw Steamer MARAMA built by Caird & Company in 1907 for Union Steam Ship Company of New Zealand Ltd., Dunedin, Passenger Q3/1938 broken up at Osaka.
www.clydeships.co.uk
RBCM Archives
search-bcarchives.royalbcmuseum.bc.ca
RBCM Archives
search-bcarchives.royalbcmuseum.bc.ca
RBCM Archives
search-bcarchives.royalbcmuseum.bc.ca
RBCM Archives
search-bcarchives.royalbcmuseum.bc.ca
Photographs, history, travel instructions, and GPS coordinates for Porlier Pass Range Rear Lighthouse.
www.lighthousefriends.com
fishing-app.gpsnauticalcharts.com
