All kinds of names you can come up with. Don’t forget you could also have a battle by the San Juans, this will confuse folks in the years to come into thinking it was by the Iberian peninsula or in the Caribbean.
The Rainbow. A World War One on Canada's West Coast Timeline
- Thread starter YYJ
- Start date
While writing/posting my stories I often have the same feeling - there is a poster (or three!) who foresees what I am about to reveal in the next section, or even where the story is heading. The trick lies in having a bit of discussion without revealing which is right! I have come to think that it means you have a story which sticks close enough to reality that reasonable people find close parallels, or at least gripping enough that people think about it a lot.
BTW: Extremely well done story. This is all too plausible. I am more familiar with the east coast, but have some recognition from there of just how remote some coastal outports could be up to the 1950s or even 1960s, let alone pre-WWI days of Morse signals limited to wire and limited range wireless.
I have edited the second paragraph of the last chapter Genuine Quarry to the following, for clarity:
And just as well. At 0510 he had encountered the Malaspina in Imperial Eagle Channel. Malaspina had signaled that they already inspected the town and found nothing amiss, as Hose had suspected. He bid adieu and shaped his course south to intercept Saxonia. Later, he again spotted Malaspina. This time the patrol vessel was close to shore, but outside Barclay Sound, northbound in the direction of Ucluelet at a healthy rate of speed. Then at 0545 he spotted Saxonia’s smoke in the rising light. By 0600 he had the German liner in sight at a range of 10 nautical miles, two tall masts and then a single funnel sitting at the base of her column of smoke. The German liner saw Rainbow as well, and turned to run south, outside the American 3 mile limit. A stern chase ensued, with Rainbow making 15 knots and the Saxonia seeming incapable of more than 10 or 11.
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At the time Port Renfrew was actually called Port San Juan, but that is just too damn confusing.
The Battle of Bamfield: Opening Moves
Aug 21 0615 hours. Bamfield Inlet, Barclay Sound.
Cutting the land cable, one strand of the British Empire’s global telegraphy network, had been the easy part. As simple as some sailors climbing the poles. Destroying the station and its equipment would be harder. Stabbootsman Lange ordered his men out of the forest and back to the boats waiting at the shoreline. As they shoved off into Trevor Channel, Lange could see the Galiano three kilometers to the south, towing the Pacific end of the severed cable out towards deeper water. That was fine, his men needed time to maneuver their boats into position. Lange kept the two boats close to the steep shoreline and shielded from the eyes of any sentries, as they motored the kilometre to the entrance of Bamfield Inlet.
The Bamfield Transpacific Cable Station he was about to assault sat atop an arrowhead shaped peninsula called, not surprisingly, Station Point. This point was flanked by two narrow but long inlets. Ideally, his route of attack would have been to leave the boats pulled up on a beach outside the inlet, and approach the station over land, but their objective was like a castle with a moat, really. It was hard to imagine a better natural defensive position. Lange would have also preferred his initial attack to be by surprise, but he considered they had given that away when they cut the cable, so the remaining tool, if surprise was not available, would need to be élan.
Lange’s chart, and the scant reconnaissance he had managed to do from the deck as Galiano had steamed past Bamfield Inlet earlier, showed that he had a short 250 meters of open water to motor across between entering the inlet in sight of the station, and his landing site on the steep rocky beach. But this could become a nasty killing zone if the Canadians had thought to set up a machine gun on the point. He held his boats in Trevor Channel, behind the unnamed point at the entrance to Bamfield Inlet, out of sight from any Canadian lookouts.
“You!” Lange ordered, selecting his two best marksmen, “Grab some extra ammunition and set up there on the point. You will control the mouth of the inlet and the end of Station Point from here.” The distance was an easy rifle shot. But he regretted having to split his forces. He had few enough men to start with.
“Just don’t forget us when you withdraw,” said one of the newly recruited sharpshooters to the sailor at the boat controls. The men clambered over the side of the boat into the shallows, then up the bank and into the forest.
Looking back seaward, Lange saw that Galiano had dropped the cable, and turned back north up the channel. Lange signaled by semaphore, FOLLOW TWO MINUTES BEHIND US. If he could get most of the way across the narrow inlet before the Canadians could react, the appearance of Galiano should help distract the defenders as he made his landing.
At 0625, by his watch, Galiano signalled GO. Well, thought Lange, I hope it did not occur to the Canadians to emplace a battery of howitzers on Station Point.
“For the Kaiser!” he called, and motioned for the boat throttles to be opened.
“For the Kaiser!” fifteen voices responded in unison.
The boats gathered speed and rounded the point into Bamfield Inlet. The sailors lay low in the boats, with only their heads and rifle barrels rising above the gunwales. The helmsmen steered for the stretch of water to the left of Station Point. The boat engines were not particularly loud, thought Lange, as the two boats motored down the inlet now fully exposed to view from Bamfield. Not loud enough to cover up the cries of the Canadian sentries, or the engine sounds of the fish boat loaded with Canadian militia that appeared, headed towards them, already in the center of the harbour.
A fierce firefight opened up almost immediately between the two German launches and the Canadian fish boat. None of the boats were stable firing platforms, and many shots went wild. Still the range was around 75 meters and very quickly the boats became riddled with holes. Lange was hollering something about “plans surviving contact with the enemy,” while alternately firing his Navy Luger carbine as fast as he could pull the trigger at the Canadian boat, and urging his boat operator to make better speed to the landing beach. With the Germans so distracted, no one in the boats noticed that several Canadian militia riflemen on Station Point had begun to fire on the German boats, both from the top of the cliff, and from some of the upper windows in the Cable Station building.
Lange’s landing party may have met complete annihilation at this point, save for two factors. The marksmen he left behind at the entrance to the inlet were unmolested, and they began to fire carefully aimed shots at the militia riflemen in and around the Cable Station. Militiamen began to fall, and the volume of fire from the Station dropped off. Also, at this moment Galiano rounded the point and entered into the fray. The Spandau gun on top of the wheelhouse immediately opened up on the fish boat from 300 meters, and maintained a steady stream of fire, surrounding the Canadian boat with splashes and causing much visible damage. The fish boat turned sharply towards Lange’s boats. The Spandau gun was forced to stop firing, lest it hit the German landing party. It was unclear whether the Canadian skipper attempted to ram, or if his boat was out of control, but the fish boat ran up on top of Lange’s boat and stove in the side. The boats remained tangled together, and began to circle in the middle of the inlet.
“Stop!” Lange ordered his boat operator, and the German engine dropped to idle, but the Canadian boat was still under power. Lang noticed water in his damaged boat rising to his knees. Without a word, Lang vaulted up onto the foredeck of the fish boat, and emptied his Luger carbine into the cabin rapid fire. He dropped to prone on the deck, inserted a fresh magazine, and repeated the exercise. His men saw him disappear into the cabin, and the fish boat motor cut off. Lange jumped back up on the fish boat foredeck, waved his arm, signalling the second boat to come over to his position. Then he realized how exposed he was and jumped back into his sinking launch. The crack of rifle shots still sounded over the inlet. Galiano took the headland where the German marksmen were emplaced under machine gun fire, until Lange’s frantic empty-handed semaphore caused the Spandau gun to shift to the upper floors of the Cable Station.
The wounded were passed over to the second German launch, the able bodied men climbed over, and the damaged boat was abandoned, by this time filled up to the gunwales. Lange took stock of his men. Two were dead, one badly wounded, and two had minor wounds. Lange counted again and noticed one man missing. He looked all around the inlet, but there was no sign of the missing man. He still had ten combat capable men under his command, including his second petty officer, and the two lightly wounded men capable of some action.
A pair of rifle shots sounded, and a bullet struck his boat. The Galiano’s deck gun fired, and an explosion collapsed the verandah of the manager’s wooden house on Station Point. The gun fired again, this time the shell exploded deep inside the house, and blew out all the ground floor windows. As the explosion echoed around the inlet, Lange could hear no more shooting.
“We continue,” he said.
Cutting the land cable, one strand of the British Empire’s global telegraphy network, had been the easy part. As simple as some sailors climbing the poles. Destroying the station and its equipment would be harder. Stabbootsman Lange ordered his men out of the forest and back to the boats waiting at the shoreline. As they shoved off into Trevor Channel, Lange could see the Galiano three kilometers to the south, towing the Pacific end of the severed cable out towards deeper water. That was fine, his men needed time to maneuver their boats into position. Lange kept the two boats close to the steep shoreline and shielded from the eyes of any sentries, as they motored the kilometre to the entrance of Bamfield Inlet.
The Bamfield Transpacific Cable Station he was about to assault sat atop an arrowhead shaped peninsula called, not surprisingly, Station Point. This point was flanked by two narrow but long inlets. Ideally, his route of attack would have been to leave the boats pulled up on a beach outside the inlet, and approach the station over land, but their objective was like a castle with a moat, really. It was hard to imagine a better natural defensive position. Lange would have also preferred his initial attack to be by surprise, but he considered they had given that away when they cut the cable, so the remaining tool, if surprise was not available, would need to be élan.
Lange’s chart, and the scant reconnaissance he had managed to do from the deck as Galiano had steamed past Bamfield Inlet earlier, showed that he had a short 250 meters of open water to motor across between entering the inlet in sight of the station, and his landing site on the steep rocky beach. But this could become a nasty killing zone if the Canadians had thought to set up a machine gun on the point. He held his boats in Trevor Channel, behind the unnamed point at the entrance to Bamfield Inlet, out of sight from any Canadian lookouts.
“You!” Lange ordered, selecting his two best marksmen, “Grab some extra ammunition and set up there on the point. You will control the mouth of the inlet and the end of Station Point from here.” The distance was an easy rifle shot. But he regretted having to split his forces. He had few enough men to start with.
“Just don’t forget us when you withdraw,” said one of the newly recruited sharpshooters to the sailor at the boat controls. The men clambered over the side of the boat into the shallows, then up the bank and into the forest.
Looking back seaward, Lange saw that Galiano had dropped the cable, and turned back north up the channel. Lange signaled by semaphore, FOLLOW TWO MINUTES BEHIND US. If he could get most of the way across the narrow inlet before the Canadians could react, the appearance of Galiano should help distract the defenders as he made his landing.
At 0625, by his watch, Galiano signalled GO. Well, thought Lange, I hope it did not occur to the Canadians to emplace a battery of howitzers on Station Point.
“For the Kaiser!” he called, and motioned for the boat throttles to be opened.
“For the Kaiser!” fifteen voices responded in unison.
The boats gathered speed and rounded the point into Bamfield Inlet. The sailors lay low in the boats, with only their heads and rifle barrels rising above the gunwales. The helmsmen steered for the stretch of water to the left of Station Point. The boat engines were not particularly loud, thought Lange, as the two boats motored down the inlet now fully exposed to view from Bamfield. Not loud enough to cover up the cries of the Canadian sentries, or the engine sounds of the fish boat loaded with Canadian militia that appeared, headed towards them, already in the center of the harbour.
A fierce firefight opened up almost immediately between the two German launches and the Canadian fish boat. None of the boats were stable firing platforms, and many shots went wild. Still the range was around 75 meters and very quickly the boats became riddled with holes. Lange was hollering something about “plans surviving contact with the enemy,” while alternately firing his Navy Luger carbine as fast as he could pull the trigger at the Canadian boat, and urging his boat operator to make better speed to the landing beach. With the Germans so distracted, no one in the boats noticed that several Canadian militia riflemen on Station Point had begun to fire on the German boats, both from the top of the cliff, and from some of the upper windows in the Cable Station building.
Lange’s landing party may have met complete annihilation at this point, save for two factors. The marksmen he left behind at the entrance to the inlet were unmolested, and they began to fire carefully aimed shots at the militia riflemen in and around the Cable Station. Militiamen began to fall, and the volume of fire from the Station dropped off. Also, at this moment Galiano rounded the point and entered into the fray. The Spandau gun on top of the wheelhouse immediately opened up on the fish boat from 300 meters, and maintained a steady stream of fire, surrounding the Canadian boat with splashes and causing much visible damage. The fish boat turned sharply towards Lange’s boats. The Spandau gun was forced to stop firing, lest it hit the German landing party. It was unclear whether the Canadian skipper attempted to ram, or if his boat was out of control, but the fish boat ran up on top of Lange’s boat and stove in the side. The boats remained tangled together, and began to circle in the middle of the inlet.
“Stop!” Lange ordered his boat operator, and the German engine dropped to idle, but the Canadian boat was still under power. Lang noticed water in his damaged boat rising to his knees. Without a word, Lang vaulted up onto the foredeck of the fish boat, and emptied his Luger carbine into the cabin rapid fire. He dropped to prone on the deck, inserted a fresh magazine, and repeated the exercise. His men saw him disappear into the cabin, and the fish boat motor cut off. Lange jumped back up on the fish boat foredeck, waved his arm, signalling the second boat to come over to his position. Then he realized how exposed he was and jumped back into his sinking launch. The crack of rifle shots still sounded over the inlet. Galiano took the headland where the German marksmen were emplaced under machine gun fire, until Lange’s frantic empty-handed semaphore caused the Spandau gun to shift to the upper floors of the Cable Station.
The wounded were passed over to the second German launch, the able bodied men climbed over, and the damaged boat was abandoned, by this time filled up to the gunwales. Lange took stock of his men. Two were dead, one badly wounded, and two had minor wounds. Lange counted again and noticed one man missing. He looked all around the inlet, but there was no sign of the missing man. He still had ten combat capable men under his command, including his second petty officer, and the two lightly wounded men capable of some action.
A pair of rifle shots sounded, and a bullet struck his boat. The Galiano’s deck gun fired, and an explosion collapsed the verandah of the manager’s wooden house on Station Point. The gun fired again, this time the shell exploded deep inside the house, and blew out all the ground floor windows. As the explosion echoed around the inlet, Lange could hear no more shooting.
“We continue,” he said.
i-Boating : Free Marine Navigation Charts & Fishing Maps
fishing-app.gpsnauticalcharts.com
Quite the frenzied engagement indeed, I guess we shall see who comes out better in this engagement. More militiamen or armed personnel could be laying in ambush, although I’m not betting on that with simple militiamen.
Meeting engagement with reconnaissance force. Not the battle either side had planned.
Perhaps this should be made clear elsewhere. The All Red Line arrives at Bamfield from Port Alberni over land. It leaves the Cable Station for Australia as a submarine cable. Both of those lines were cut at 0600 by the Germans. There is another unrelated telegraph line for the lifesaving trail that also comes into Bamfield and connects to Pachena Point light and Dominion Wireless Station, and a telegraph line from Cape Beale Lighthouse to Bamfield. These are still intact, as of this chapter.
I should also be clear that the All Red Line is still operational from Port Alberni eastward, Victoria and Vancouver are still connected to the rest of the Empire. And the Line continues all the way around the world to Fanning Island, the other end of the Bamfield leg.
One bite missing
Aug 21, 0635 hours. CGS Malaspina, Ucluelet Harbour.
Lieutenant McFarlane had Malaspina run a search pattern for the missing CGS Restless for half an hour, between 0215 and 0245 hours. He had used his discretion, and turned on Malaspina’s searchlight, in violation of the blackout orders. How else was he going to spot any survivors? Ultimately, he did not find any crew of the Restless, living or dead. He did find a life ring stenciled with Restless, a crushed lifeboat capsized and awash, and some broken woodwork that may or may not have come from the missing tug. No wreckage he recovered confirmed or refuted McFarlane’s suspicion that the disappearance of Restless was something other than an accidental collision. Eventually, he was forced to conclude that no survivors were to be recovered, and nothing more was to be learned in the dark strait, so ordered the Malaspina back to her northerly course bound for Ucluelet.
Around 0315 Malaspina and the submarine CC-1 again completely missed each other in the dark off River Jordan. Just after 0400 the stars began to fade. By 0500, McFarlane was following the coast 5 nautical miles south east of Cape Beale, when she saw the welcome sight of HMCS Rainbow off Barclay Sound, cruising on an opposite course to his own. The east facing side of the cruiser was lit by the pre-dawn glow, while Malaspina was invisible as a dark shape against the dark coastline. A few minutes later, McFarlane saw Rainbow communicating by Morse light with an unseen ship, but Malaspina’s signalman could not read the message at that range and angle. McFarlane opted not to communicate with Rainbow at this point, having nothing particular to say. No challenge protocol had been established that required him to signal, and he had no doubt he was looking at Rainbow. He watched the cruiser turn due south, and head out to sea. He presumed Rainbow was chasing the German auxiliary liner Saxonia. This had been the subject of wireless transmissions throughout the night.
The dawn came bright and clear. Malaspina arrived off of Ucluelet at 0600. McFarlane could see no smoke from the unfamiliar ships Cape Beale lighthouse had reported seeing the previous day, and saw no large oceangoing vessels either in Barclay Sound or inside Ucluelet harbour. He saw no smoke rising from the chimneys of the town either. Malaspina slowly entered the inlet. McFarlane’s knew Ucluelet well. His first impression as he rounded Amphitrite Point was that the town was unnaturally quiet. He would normally expect to see fishboats already out in the Sound, and others preparing to cast off. Instead, the boats were all tied up, and the wharves and streets were empty.
Malaspina came alongside the Government wharf. Not a soul walked the streets. On Whiskey Landing Road, three stray chickens were scratching in the dirt. As McFarlane watched, a bald eagle swooped down on top of one of the hens, and began pulling it apart. The captain turned around and noticed, further down on the far side of the harbour, two pairs of masts appearing to be from two small steamships, jutting out of the bay.
“Landing party!” he ordered, “Arm yourselves! And keep full steam up!” he instructed the bridge crew. McFarlane was glad he had the detachment of 30 militiamen from the 88th Fusiliers on board. He strapped on his Webley revolver, and led a militia officer and dozen armed men ashore. He and several militiamen entered a dockside chandlery, and found the shelves nearly empty of supplies, and a pile of Canadian banknotes on the counter, weighed down with an empty ginger beer bottle. Beside the impressive brass cash register was half a sandwich, with one bite missing, and a cup half full of tea. McFarlane crossed himself.
The other men fanned out across the town, and found scenes much the same. A pack of dogs and a single pig were helping themselves to the contents of a butcher shop, surrounded by the buzzing of flies. Greengrocers and dry goods stores likewise had empty shelves, but sizable piles of cash on the counters, or in one case where a window had been left open, money scattered all over the floor. And in every store the stack of money on the counter was accompanied by a handwritten tally and bill. McFarlane picked up the bill at the greengrocer’s and read the figures. The total was written as $287,50. With a comma, not a decimal point. In the European fashion.
“We need to get out of here,” said McFarlane, and led his men back to the Malaspina.
The wireless operator met him on the wharf top.
“We received this message just after you left sir!” said the operator.
PACHEENA POINT TO HMCD ESQUIMALT BAMFIELD CABLE STATION REPORTS LAND AND SUBMARINE TELEGRAPH CABLES BOTH OUT OF SERVICE TIMING SUGGESTS CABLES WERE INTENTIONALLY CUT STOP LIFESAVING TELEGRAPH VIA PORT RENFREW AND PACHEENA WIRELESS STATION STILL OPERATIONAL AT THE MOMENT STOP
“Get underway!” yelled McFarlane, and hurried his landing party back aboard. He followed the wireless operator to his cabin. “Send the following message,” he ordered.
CGS MALASPINA TO HMCD ESQUIMALT TOWN OF UCLUELET COMPLETELY DESERTED EMPTY STREETS EMPTY HOUSES STORE SHELVES EMPTY OF SUPPLIES TWO SHIPS SUNKEN IN HARBOUR SUSPECT GERMAN RAIDERS STOP
As the operator was tapping out the message, McFarlane felt the movement of Malaspina pulling away from the dock, and coming about so as to leave the harbour. He was just about the step out of the wireless cabin door when the operator told him, “incoming message sir.” The operator spent a moment decrypting with the codebook.
HMCS RAINBOW TO CGS MALASPINA YOU REPORTED UCLUELET FINE AT 0510 HOURS THIS MORNING WHEN WE SIGNALLED YOU IN IMPERIAL EAGLE CHANNEL STOP
“What the devil!” exclaimed McFarlane. Had Hose taken leave of his senses? He quickly drafted a response.
MALASPINA TO RAINBOW WE HAVE NOT COMMUNICATED DIRECTLY WITH YOU THIS DAY STOP WE HAVE NOT BEEN IN IMPERIAL EAGLE CHANNEL THIS AM STOP
McFarlane expected a reply almost instantly, so he waited in the wireless cabin, but none was forthcoming. He felt the deck under his feet become a bit more lively as Malaspina left the shelter of Ucluelet harbour. Several minutes later, when a message came, it was not from Rainbow, as he had expected.
BAMFIELD CABLE STATION UNDER ATTACK FROM LAND AND SEA SEND IMMEDIATE ASSISTANCE STOP
He drafted a reply, before dashing to the bridge.
CGS MALASPINA TO BAMFIELD CABLE STATION ON THE WAY TO RENDER ASSISTANCE STOP
“Action Stations!” he yelled, before he had even finished climbing the ladder to the wheelhouse.
McFarlane took his place on the bridge. The crew of the 6 pounder on the foredeck busied themselves preparing the gun. Malaspina’s bridge crew all squinted and shielded their eyes with their hands, as the ship steamed directly towards the rising sun.
Lieutenant McFarlane had Malaspina run a search pattern for the missing CGS Restless for half an hour, between 0215 and 0245 hours. He had used his discretion, and turned on Malaspina’s searchlight, in violation of the blackout orders. How else was he going to spot any survivors? Ultimately, he did not find any crew of the Restless, living or dead. He did find a life ring stenciled with Restless, a crushed lifeboat capsized and awash, and some broken woodwork that may or may not have come from the missing tug. No wreckage he recovered confirmed or refuted McFarlane’s suspicion that the disappearance of Restless was something other than an accidental collision. Eventually, he was forced to conclude that no survivors were to be recovered, and nothing more was to be learned in the dark strait, so ordered the Malaspina back to her northerly course bound for Ucluelet.
Around 0315 Malaspina and the submarine CC-1 again completely missed each other in the dark off River Jordan. Just after 0400 the stars began to fade. By 0500, McFarlane was following the coast 5 nautical miles south east of Cape Beale, when she saw the welcome sight of HMCS Rainbow off Barclay Sound, cruising on an opposite course to his own. The east facing side of the cruiser was lit by the pre-dawn glow, while Malaspina was invisible as a dark shape against the dark coastline. A few minutes later, McFarlane saw Rainbow communicating by Morse light with an unseen ship, but Malaspina’s signalman could not read the message at that range and angle. McFarlane opted not to communicate with Rainbow at this point, having nothing particular to say. No challenge protocol had been established that required him to signal, and he had no doubt he was looking at Rainbow. He watched the cruiser turn due south, and head out to sea. He presumed Rainbow was chasing the German auxiliary liner Saxonia. This had been the subject of wireless transmissions throughout the night.
The dawn came bright and clear. Malaspina arrived off of Ucluelet at 0600. McFarlane could see no smoke from the unfamiliar ships Cape Beale lighthouse had reported seeing the previous day, and saw no large oceangoing vessels either in Barclay Sound or inside Ucluelet harbour. He saw no smoke rising from the chimneys of the town either. Malaspina slowly entered the inlet. McFarlane’s knew Ucluelet well. His first impression as he rounded Amphitrite Point was that the town was unnaturally quiet. He would normally expect to see fishboats already out in the Sound, and others preparing to cast off. Instead, the boats were all tied up, and the wharves and streets were empty.
Malaspina came alongside the Government wharf. Not a soul walked the streets. On Whiskey Landing Road, three stray chickens were scratching in the dirt. As McFarlane watched, a bald eagle swooped down on top of one of the hens, and began pulling it apart. The captain turned around and noticed, further down on the far side of the harbour, two pairs of masts appearing to be from two small steamships, jutting out of the bay.
“Landing party!” he ordered, “Arm yourselves! And keep full steam up!” he instructed the bridge crew. McFarlane was glad he had the detachment of 30 militiamen from the 88th Fusiliers on board. He strapped on his Webley revolver, and led a militia officer and dozen armed men ashore. He and several militiamen entered a dockside chandlery, and found the shelves nearly empty of supplies, and a pile of Canadian banknotes on the counter, weighed down with an empty ginger beer bottle. Beside the impressive brass cash register was half a sandwich, with one bite missing, and a cup half full of tea. McFarlane crossed himself.
The other men fanned out across the town, and found scenes much the same. A pack of dogs and a single pig were helping themselves to the contents of a butcher shop, surrounded by the buzzing of flies. Greengrocers and dry goods stores likewise had empty shelves, but sizable piles of cash on the counters, or in one case where a window had been left open, money scattered all over the floor. And in every store the stack of money on the counter was accompanied by a handwritten tally and bill. McFarlane picked up the bill at the greengrocer’s and read the figures. The total was written as $287,50. With a comma, not a decimal point. In the European fashion.
“We need to get out of here,” said McFarlane, and led his men back to the Malaspina.
The wireless operator met him on the wharf top.
“We received this message just after you left sir!” said the operator.
PACHEENA POINT TO HMCD ESQUIMALT BAMFIELD CABLE STATION REPORTS LAND AND SUBMARINE TELEGRAPH CABLES BOTH OUT OF SERVICE TIMING SUGGESTS CABLES WERE INTENTIONALLY CUT STOP LIFESAVING TELEGRAPH VIA PORT RENFREW AND PACHEENA WIRELESS STATION STILL OPERATIONAL AT THE MOMENT STOP
“Get underway!” yelled McFarlane, and hurried his landing party back aboard. He followed the wireless operator to his cabin. “Send the following message,” he ordered.
CGS MALASPINA TO HMCD ESQUIMALT TOWN OF UCLUELET COMPLETELY DESERTED EMPTY STREETS EMPTY HOUSES STORE SHELVES EMPTY OF SUPPLIES TWO SHIPS SUNKEN IN HARBOUR SUSPECT GERMAN RAIDERS STOP
As the operator was tapping out the message, McFarlane felt the movement of Malaspina pulling away from the dock, and coming about so as to leave the harbour. He was just about the step out of the wireless cabin door when the operator told him, “incoming message sir.” The operator spent a moment decrypting with the codebook.
HMCS RAINBOW TO CGS MALASPINA YOU REPORTED UCLUELET FINE AT 0510 HOURS THIS MORNING WHEN WE SIGNALLED YOU IN IMPERIAL EAGLE CHANNEL STOP
“What the devil!” exclaimed McFarlane. Had Hose taken leave of his senses? He quickly drafted a response.
MALASPINA TO RAINBOW WE HAVE NOT COMMUNICATED DIRECTLY WITH YOU THIS DAY STOP WE HAVE NOT BEEN IN IMPERIAL EAGLE CHANNEL THIS AM STOP
McFarlane expected a reply almost instantly, so he waited in the wireless cabin, but none was forthcoming. He felt the deck under his feet become a bit more lively as Malaspina left the shelter of Ucluelet harbour. Several minutes later, when a message came, it was not from Rainbow, as he had expected.
BAMFIELD CABLE STATION UNDER ATTACK FROM LAND AND SEA SEND IMMEDIATE ASSISTANCE STOP
He drafted a reply, before dashing to the bridge.
CGS MALASPINA TO BAMFIELD CABLE STATION ON THE WAY TO RENDER ASSISTANCE STOP
“Action Stations!” he yelled, before he had even finished climbing the ladder to the wheelhouse.
McFarlane took his place on the bridge. The crew of the 6 pounder on the foredeck busied themselves preparing the gun. Malaspina’s bridge crew all squinted and shielded their eyes with their hands, as the ship steamed directly towards the rising sun.
