Aug 16, 1430 hours. SMS Prince Rupert, Portland Inlet.
The weather continued to improve, and visibility to increase. To the south, and west, great treed slopes appeared from the mist. The Nürnberg and Prince Rupert held station with one another, but were being carried northeastward at a speed of several knots. “The tide is in flood,” said Radl. “The water moves very strongly in these channels.” With the mist lifting, Radl was getting his bearings and recognizing landmarks. “So that is Maskelyne Point off our starboard beam, and John Point due east. I can locate our position on your chart right now.” Radl, Von Spee, and his new navigator conferred over the chart table. “When we get underway, we will want to steer just east of north. Stay in the centre of the channel and you will have at least 100 fathoms under your keel. And we should get underway soon, this is a fairly busy waterway. There are no scheduled ships for the next day, but there are often unscheduled ones.”
Von Schönberg crossed back over to Nürnberg with Radl to have a briefing and planning meeting with his senior officers. Afterwards the captain and Radl returned, along with more sailors to operate Prince Rupert, and to keep order. Some heavy items draped in tarpaulins were brought over and manhandled up to high places on the Prince Rupert’s superstructure, watched over by armed sailors. The captured passengers and crews had the lounges and staterooms to themselves. The German prize crew occupied the top deck, wheelhouse, and machinery spaces, with sufficient armed guards to deter any ideas of a counter-mutiny. Von Schönberg returned to personally instruct Lieutenant Von Spee on his role, which he did.
Lieutenant Von Spee was looking quite at home on the bridge of his first command, issuing orders to his new bridge crew. “Ah, he reminds me of myself, about 20 years ago, said Radl quietly. He and Von Schönberg stood back, and watched from the side, so as not to crowd the Lieutenant. Von Spee glanced over, and Von Schönberg nodded his approval, but something more seemed to be on the young man’s mind.
“Yes Lieutenant, please feel free to ask me anything.”
“ Sir…” Von Spee said, and then hesitated.
Von Schönberg waited patiently for the thought to be expressed.
“If we have attached the title, His Majesty’s Ship to the front of this ships’s name, shouldn’t the name also be German?”
“This ship is already named after an important German,” replied Von Schönberg with gravitas.
“The ship is named after an Canadian city,” said Radl.
“Ah so. The ship is named after a Canadian city that is named after an important German. Have you not heard of Prince Rupert of the Rhine? Born Sixteen… something-teen. Son of Fredrick the Fifth of the Palatinate? Fearless teen cavalryman, general in half a dozen armies, and an admiral as well? Artist, scholar, inventor, cryptographer, polymath, philanderer, and scoundrel? Accused of war crimes, witchcraft and piracy? The English love him because he commanded Royalist cavalry in their civil war and was an Admiral in their navy after the Restoration. The Canadians love him because he was first Governor of the Hudson’s Bay Company. But he also sacked English cities, notably Birmingham, Leicester, and Bristol. And he fought a three-year campaign as a privateer against the English Navy. I can’t think of a better name for this ship. Sail her well.” Lieutenant Von Spee and captain Von Schönberg exchanged salutes.
“Mr Radl, I would like you to stay here to pilot the Prince Rupert. I will follow in Nürnberg. The men have their orders.” Von Schönberg climbed down into the yawl and cast off. The two ships and the boat were stationary in relation to each other, but they were all moving in a group at about 3 knots relative to the shore, as if on a river moving inland. A wall of huge trees lined the sides of the inlet, separated by just over a mile of water. Above the machinery sounds of the two ships resting at idle, Von Schönberg heard a puff of escaping air, like a great exhalation, then another and another. These sounds continued getting louder.
An oarsman cried out and pointed west, back towards the Pacific, where a tall black fin rose out of the water, then another. A school of killer whales overtook the drifting ships, and suddenly, silently except for the puffs of their breathing, the ships and the yawl were surrounded by tall dorsal fins and the smooth sides of the giant creatures, shiny black with white patches like panda bears, thought Von Schönberg. He noticed several smaller whales, each keeping close company with a larger adult. Mutter und kinder. One whale passed directly under the yawl, fully as long as the boat. The men could make out every detail of its streamlined head and powerful flukes through the clear water. The whales continued up the inlet, ignoring the human drama, and soon disappeared.
