Aug 17, 0715.
SMS Nürnberg, Observatory Inlet.
Inside the fog, the air cooled and visibility dropped to near zero. Von Schönberg attempted to keep the
Prince Rupert in sight, so that
Nürnberg could follow in the path of the experienced pilot, and to avoid the danger of a collision should the ships become separated and then meet again unexpectedly. At times she was just a shadow, a slightly darker patch of fog.
Radl was earning his fee piloting the Prince Rupert. By sounding the foghorn he could judge the distance to the steep walls of the inlet by the time the echo took to return. Four knots was as fast as Radl considered safe in the conditions. The tide added three knots to their progress. Extra lookouts were posted on both ships, and were changed frequently. Staring into fog with no point of reference tired the sailor’s eyes quickly. Von Schönberg noted they had passed the mouth of the Nass when the small circle of ocean surrounding the cruiser turned from dark grey to milky white.
An hour of groping through the fog passed without incident.
With visibility dropping as low as 100 m, Von Schönberg was unable at times to even see the stern of the
Nürnberg. The cruiser was travelling dangerously close to
Prince Rupert, but he was more concerned with keeping in sight of the ship with the pilot on board than of a collision.
Nürnberg was not using her fog horn, so as not to confuse Radl’s echolocation. That might be why Von Schönberg was able to be the first to hear another fog horn, out of synch with that of the
Prince Rupert. At first he thought it was an echo, but the horn was noticeably a different pitch.
Von Schönberg had a Morse light message sent to Prince Rupert. ARE THERE SHORE BASED FOGHORNS IN THIS PASSAGE?
The reply came back, NO THAT IS A SHIP.
After 15 minutes, the new foghorn was noticeably louder, even taking into account the vagaries of sound in the fog. Von Schönberg figured they were overtaking a vessel. And despite the hazards of operating in the fog, he intended to take the ship, whoever it was, as a prize. He could not allow his position to be given away. Miraculously, to his estimation,
Nürnberg’s position was still unreported. The residents of Anyox would have to send a boat to a settlement with a telegraph or wireless, and that meant most likely sending a boat to the city of Prince Rupert. Von Schönberg intended to arrive first. And he could not let the risk of an errant wireless message spoil his surprise.
“Action Stations,” ordered Von Schönberg. The foghorn continued to get closer. Ten minutes later, a ship loomed out of the fog directly in front of Nürnberg. The ship had one funnel and was clearly not the
Prince Rupert. The First Lieutenant sounded the collision alarm and ordered engines full astern.
“Belay that! Ram!” Von Schönberg ordered. “Continue to sound collision alarm. Brace for impact!” The other vessel began blasting a collision warning with its horn. In a few seconds, the ship’s courses intersected and
Nürnberg’s ram bow struck the other ship just forward of the bridge. The
Nürnberg’s bridge crew held onto any nearby fixture, as the cruiser came violently to a halt. As per training, the sailor at the engine telegraph had applied extra power just before the ramming maneuver, and then gone to Stop.
Nürnberg’s bow was embedded 3 meters into the other vessel, buried almost to her anchors, the entangled ships forming a V with at a 45 degree angle between their sterns.
“Engines Ahead Dead Slow,” ordered Von Schönberg. “Keep the ships together. Jam their wireless. Boarding Party away. Prepare to launch rescue boats on my order.” He read the name
Camosun on the ships bow and saw that she carried the livery of the Union Steamship Line. The
Camosun displaced maybe 1000 tons, and was about half the length of the cruiser. She continued to sound a collision warning on her horn, a steady series of blasts.
https://www.gent.name/_media/bc:ships:steamships:ss_camosun_at_anyox_dock.jpg?cache=