Aug 21, 0635 hours,
CGS Malaspina, off Barclay Sound.
Lieutenant McFarlane steeled himself for battle, as
CGS Malaspina cut through the swells at full speed, racing south towards Bamfield. The
Rainbow was only a few hours away, and eminently more capable than his ship for fighting anything short of a German light cruiser. Perhaps even one of those, if luck fell her way. But
Rainbow was off at sea capturing the
Saxonia right now. Wireless traffic left McFarlane with an unclear picture, but it sounded to him like something was happening in the Strait of Georgia as well, so Hose may be called away to take care of that.
CGS MALASPINA TO PACHENA POINT WIRELESS STATION WHAT IS SITUATION IN BAMFIELD
PACHENA POINT WIRELESS STATION TO CGS MALASPINA LIFESAVING TELGRAPH LINE TO BAMFIELD BROKEN MINUTES AGO
He knew the Dominion Wireless Station at Pacheena Point Lighthouse, was about 9 miles by boat or 6 by forest trail to Bamfield. The lighthouse at Cape Beale was closer, but was connected by telegraph through Bamfield. If that telegraph line was cut then Cape Beale was isolated and unable to give him any reports of activity, presuming they could see anything. So he would be entering the scene blind.
At the very least, McFarlane reasoned, he could land his force of infantry to reinforce Bamfield’s militia garrison. And he could perform reconnaissance. Any intelligence he gathered could be relayed via Pachena Station up the command chain. Then following units would have some clarity, a commodity that has been exceedingly rare in these parts since the beginning of the war. Depending on what the Germans brought to the fight,
Malaspina might even be able tangle with a raider. He had 150 rounds for the 6 pounder in
Malaspina’s hold. Commandeered merchant cruisers carried no armour, so
Malaspina might even be able to land a lethal blow in these confined waters.
HMCS RAINBOW TO HMCD ESQUIMALT HAVE DETAINED SAXONIA AND AM BOARDING STOP AFTER PRIZE CREW IS EMBARKED CAN RENDER ASSISTANCE TO BAMFIELD OR ELSEWHERE PLEASE ADVISE
HMCD ESQUIMALT TO HMCS RAINBOW VANCOUVER COASTAL BATTERIES ARE ENGAGING HOSTILE CRUISER BELIEVED TO BE NURNBERG
“Dear God,” said McFarlane to himself. “So here we are, on our own.”
At 0700
Malaspina was nearing Trevor Channel, the approach to Bamfield. The wireless messages gave him a bit of intelligence to work with. He could expect no help from
Rainbow in the coming confrontation. And the
Nürnberg seemed to be elsewhere, so at least he would not be encountering
her just around the corner. Directly ahead was the tower of Cape Beale light, with a view up Trevor Channel, and with the telegraph line cut, mute. “Send a semaphore message to Cape Beale lighthouse,” McFarlane ordered.
GCS MALASPINA ASKS WHAT IS THE SITUATION AT BAMFIELD
McFarlane watched the lighthouse keeper on the rail by the lantern, through his binoculars.
THOUGHT YOU WERE ALREADY AT BAMFIELD, came the reply. THE WAR HAS ARRIVED MUCH RIFLE FIRE SOME NAVAL GUNFIRE TELEGRAPH OUT DO NOT HAVE LINE OF SIGHT INTO INLET OR EAST SHORE OF CHANNEL
“Thought you were already at Bamfield” said McFarlane as he read the semaphore message out loud. “What does that mean?”
Malaspina rounded the hazardous reefs off Edward King Island and entered Trevor Channel. The lookout up the foremast had a lead of about a minute seeing over the intervening terrain, and called down. “No ships in sight! Lots of smoke to the north!”
A minute later McFarlane could see for himself, all the way up Trevor Channel as far as the entrance to the Alberni Canal. Indeed, lots of smoke was rising from the direction of Bamfield, and no ships were in sight at the moment. “Set course due east,” he ordered the helmsman. “I want to get us to the far shore right away.”
“Lieutenant,” he said to the officer from the 88th Fusiliers. “My first concern is to get you and your men landed. I don’t want to go into a naval battle packed with troops. But I want to get you as close as possible to the fight, so you can have some effect right away.”
“Sir,” said the boatswain on the bridge wing beside McFarlane. “I have spent some time at Bamfield. If the troops land at First Beach Cove, right there,” he pointed at a spot on the coastline ahead, “there is only a thin stretch of land maybe 50 yards across connecting the peninsula. Pretty flat too. Then you are in the water of Grappler Inlet again and it is a strait shot up the inlet, maybe not quite 2 miles to Station Point. The Indians used it as a portage.”
The officers referred to the chart. “I agree,” said McFarlane. “If you land and cross that isthmus, you may be able to find boats to commandeer on the other side.”
“We can do a portage ourselves,” said the Fusiliers lieutenant. “Thirty lads can carry a ship’s boat. Give us your two lightest ones.”
“Very well,” said McFarlane. “Get your men and gear ready. “We will be in position for you to disembark in less than ten minutes, if a warship does not come out of the harbour and sink us before then.” The ship’s officers had their binoculars trained on the mouth of Bamfield Inlet. They could see plenty of smoke, some perhaps from the stack of a steamship. At times they could faintly hear what sounded like rifle shots. Two oar-powered boats were swung out. Boxes of ammunition, a tripod, and machinegun were loaded into the first boat. No enemy ships appeared. The boats were lowered and soon the Fusiliers were leaning on their oars, heading for the cove as fast as they could manage. The militia commander had even refused to have any naval crew aboard, insisting that his men could handle the boats just fine themselves. McFarlane did not argue, he preferred to keep all his men on
Malaspina.
With the militia away, McFarlane headed north.
CGS MALASPINA TO HMCD ESQUIMALT SOME KIND OF FIGHTING IN BAMFIELD AM ABOUT TO RENDER ASSISTANCE STOP GOD SAVE THE KING
Sending a wireless message might tip off the Germans that they were close, but McFarlane wanted to make sure the command structure had some information to work with. Especially if he was about to go down fighting. He had had enough of running around in the damn dark. Sure enough, within a minute of sending the wireless message, over the Mills Peninsula he saw a column of smoke increase, and begin heading out towards the entrance of the inlet.
Then, from between the tree covered promontories on either side of Bamfield Inlet, emerged a ship. A ship identical to his own, except for the German naval ensign flying from the mainmast. The
Galiano. “Well, how about that!” McFarlane declared.
“Fire!”
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