Jan 12, 1915. Tagus Cove.
Von Schönberg projected an image of calm resolve, sometimes even jovial optimism to his crew. But in private he felt his nerves stretched as tight as piano wires. Niagara had been sitting at anchor for almost two weeks, waiting for coal.
If a Galapagos fisherman had pro-Entente sentiments he could have run up the sail on his fishing smack and reported Niagara’s position at the front desk of the British legation in Guayaquil by now, he thought. So he was tremendously relieved when
SS Abessinia arrived in the afternoon.
“That was a very strange series of events,”
Abessinia’s captain told Von Schönberg when they met. “A landslide put the rail line out of service, just as our trainload of coal was just due to arrive. A major landslide, and it happened in the absence of a storm, or any other natural cause. The rumor is it was some kind of sabotage. I half expect British agents hired local gangsters to pull off the caper.”
“I do hope the rail line is cleared soon,” said
Abessinia’s captain, smiling. “We were forced to buy the entire coal supply for Pisagua’s power plant. It is amazing what some people will do for the right amount of money. If the train does not get through in the next day the town will run out of electricity, and the nitrate processing and loading facilities will grind to a halt.”
“You are leaving a trail of interesting stories in your wake,” said Von Schönberg. “People will paying attention.”
“We made sure the rumors circulated that we were headed for San Felix, in the Desventuradas Islands.”
“I have been there,” said Von Schönberg. “Not a bad ruse. That must be 1200 miles from here.”
“We were escorted for 2 days by a Chilean destroyer” continued
Abessinia’s captain, until it had to return to port for fuel.”
The sounds of the coaling operation getting started entered into Niagara’s captain’s cabin.
“We are grateful,” said Von Schönberg.
“Keep doing what you are doing. You are a phantom. If the newspapers are at all truthful, the British know you are out there somewhere, but have no idea where.”
All that day, and into the next afternoon the coaling continued, until Niagara had received 1800 tons in her bunkers.
Jan 14, 1915. Galapagos Islands.
At dawn
Niagara steamed out of Elizabeth Bay and left the Galapagos Islands behind her.
Abessinia, riding high in the water in ballast, steamed south to loiter for a few days before returning to a Chilean Port. Her captain had been finding Pisagua a bit provincial for his tastes, and thought he might try to make for Valparaiso.
Niagara steamed east.
Jan 16, 1915. 200 NM east of the Galapagos Islands.
This day came grey and overcast, with low cloud and occasional rain squalls. Despite having her drinking water tanks half full, Von Schönberg rigged tarpaulins to collect rain water. An hour after mid-day,
Niagara spotted a smoke column, and set course to intercept. This proved to be a steam freighter of about 5000 tons with a single funnel, headed north. It did not take long to establish that the ship was flying the Red Ensign. The name painted on her bow read
SS Trevanian.
Niagara approached, and by Morse light ordered the freighter to stop and prepare to be boarded. The ship began to transmit a distress signal, which
Niagara jammed.
Trevanian appeared to acknowledge that
Niagara was both faster and obviously armed, and slowed before a warning shot was fired.
Niagara stopped alongside, and launched boats to take the boarding party across. The boarding partly occupied
Trevanian’s bridge and machinery spaces. By examining the ship’s log and manifest they learned that her cargo was anthracite coal, her holds were currently about half full with 2000 tons of coal aboard, that she was serving as a collier for the Royal Navy, and that her crew had already opened her seacocks and irrevocably started to scuttle her. Von Schönberg ordered
Trevanian’s crew over to N
iagara, but their captain refused, and insisted on launching his own lifeboats.
“This is strange,” said Von Schönberg to Lieutenant Riedeger. No land was in sight. The mainland of Ecuador was 400 nautical miles to the east. “We may have made a mistake. Recover the boarding party!”
“Ship!” shouted a lookout. “To the south! A liner with 2 funnels! Intercept course! Range 20,000 meters.”
Von Schönberg aimed his own binoculars at the new ship, and saw her outline take shape as she emerged from a rain squall. The liner was big, as big as
Niagara. Her form became distinct as she left the wall of rain behind. She had a big bone in her teeth and was making great clouds of smoke. Her hull was painted navy grey. From her mast head she flew the White Ensign. His boarding party were just getting back in their boats, over on
Trevanian.
“Full speed!” he ordered. The engine telegraph clanged. “Helm, take us north when you have steerage! Action Stations!” he ordered, even though the crews were already standing by the guns. “Signals, send a message to our boats.” The Morse light flashed.
ROYAL NAVY ARMED MERCHANT CRUISER YOU ARE ON YOUR OWN GOD BLESS
He saw his men over in their boats stand and salute. Water churned under
Niagara’s stern, as she accelerated from a standing start.
“Lookout, what armament can you see!” demanded Von Schönberg
“A pair of guns on the forward well deck,” reported the lookout. “A pair of guns on C deck forward. Any other armament is masked by the ship’s superstructure, sir. “Range 18,000 meters.”
Von Schönberg looked at the
Niagara’s bridge chronometer. Six minutes had elapsed since the ship was first sighted. “Navigator! What is 2000 meters in six minutes?”
“Eighteen knots, sir,” answered the navigator, without hesitation.
“That Brit is as fast as us and has a head start,” Von Schönberg said to Riedeger. “She likely has 12cm or 15 cm guns, probably 8 in Royal Navy fashion. Our guns will have longer range, but I don’t expect them to shoot as well from this deck as they did from
Nürnberg. Still, our gun crews should be in a different league than Royal Navy Reservists. We are not coming up to speed nearly fast enough. They will be in range before we make our top speed. I think a stern chase is best to start. It will reduce our profile as a target, and we have 2 guns that can fire directly astern. One thing about this engagement, we will not be leading the ship from inside an armoured conning tower.”
The crew of
Trevanian and
Niagara’s boarding party each bobbed on the swells in their respective lifeboats, the British in four boats and the Germans in two. They kept their distance from each other. They were still enemies at war, after all, and although there were more British sailors, the Germans were armed with rifles and carbines. But they shared in the perspective of watching the battle from the sidelines, as if at a football match, while
Trevanian slowly sank behind them.
Niagara was about 2000 meters away from the boats and 12,000 meters from the Royal Navy armed merchant cruiser that the crew of
Trevanian knew to be
HMS Orama, when she fired the opening shots of the engagement that was subsequently known as the Battle of the Galapagos Islands, even though the Islands were well out of sight. The men in the boats saw the flash of the guns 5 seconds before they heard the sound.
Niagara’s first ranging shots were long, and she corrected fire until her stern guns were straddling
Orama by the 6th salvo. The range between the ships dropped rapidly, as
Niagara was slow to gather speed. Pairs of waterspouts rose on each side of the British ship every 10 seconds, until, at 1535 hours, at a range of 9000 meters
Niagara scored a hit on
Orama’s boat deck with a 10.5 cm High Explosive shell.
By coincidence or design,
Orama chose this moment and range to return fire with her 4 forward 6 inch guns.
Orama’s first shots fell short, and she spent several minutes finding the range, while
Niagara continued to straddle her and landed the occasional shot, hitting
Orama at the base of her first funnel, and in the second-class lounge at the front of the superstructure. A fire broke out on
Orama’s boat deck, fanned by the speed of her travel. Both ships were still difficult targets at this point, since in a stern chase they were end-on to each other. By now the men in boats had to use binoculars to see any detail of the battle.
Orama’s first hit on
Niagara could not have been more fortunate. A 6 inch High Explosive shell struck edge-on to the stern upper deck beside the P4 gun mount, and mowed down
Niagara’s port aft gun crew with shell splinters and hull fragments. The range was down to 5000 meters, and although
Niagara was now up to a speed of 14 knots, she was clearly not able to run from this engagement. At 1545 hours Captain Von Schönberg ordered
Niagara to turn to starboard, to unmask her two starboard foc’stle guns.
Orama matched the maneuver, and the two liners settled into parallel courses, and blasted away at each other from 5000 meters.
Niagara’s guns had a higher rate of fire and the crack German gun crews hit more often.
Orama’s heavier shells did more damage with each hit. Soon both ships were on fire in a number of places.
Orama’s P3 gun, on the after end of C-deck, suffered a major propellant fire as a dozen ready cartridges took light. This fire scattered the gun crew, and spread to the superstructure.
Niagara’s aft funnel was knocked over, lubricating oil on her aft cargo derrick caught fire, and more fire broke out in the woodwork of her elegant first class dining room and the foredeck paint locker where the means of
Niagara’s many consume changes was stored. The liners passed through a rain squall that helped to knock down the top deck fires. For several minutes the adversaries lost sight of each other, then emerged a mere 2000 meters apart, still on parallel courses.
Niagara’s gun crews could not miss at this range, and aiming for
Orama’s waterline, landed 16 hits on the Royal Navy ship’s port hull in the space of a minute at, near, or below the waterline.
Niagara’s gun in S2 position had ended up being served with a batch of armour piecing shells, and pumped them into Orama’s tall sides, penetrating through to the boiler rooms. This shooting gallery fusillade was cut short by one of
Orama’s shells detonating against
Niagara’s forward steam derrick machinery, killing or wounding both forward gun crews on the starboard broadside. The ships turned away from each other to open the range, and take stock of what urgent damage control could be affected. Both ships were on fire, holed below the waterline, and suffering machinery damage, but
Orama was worse off on all three counts. Scenes inside both liners would not have been out of place in the pages of
Danté’s Inferno.
Firehoses were brought into action on both ships. A momentary cease fire seemed to have taken place, and the liners circled each other at a range of 6,000 meters. As a few minutes passed it became clear that
Orama was badly holed on her port side aft of the funnels, and began to show a list to port and to settle by the stern.
Orama’s White Ensign still flew, and Captain Von Schönberg gave orders to try and find some way to communicate with the Royal Navy vessel to demand her surrender. Both liners had lost their wireless antennae and signal halyards, and drifting smoke from both ships obscured any sightlines for semaphore or Morse light, should any of the equipment still be working.
Smoke so interfered with visibility that when waterspouts began to rise from the sea again around
Niagara, Von Schönberg first thought that Orama had resumed shooting, and he ordered
Niagara’s surviving guns to return fire. But, he soon noticed, Orama’s guns were unmanned, and he saw no muzzle flashes. Through a momentary gap in the smoke he saw another ship, steaming from the south at full tilt, firing as she came, about 12,000 meters distant. This new enemy ship also took some time to find the range. He ordered the two remaining working guns that could be brought to bear to fire on the new target, but from his position on the bridge he had lost sight of the new ship in the smoke again, and a was not even able to identify his foe.
The new ship began to land hits on
Niagara, but the smoke was hampering the British shooting as well, and most of the shells landed wide. The chief engineer reported to Von Schönberg through a voice tube that one boiler room was flooding, and another boiler had been hit and exploded, and the toppled funnel affected the draught, so he could not expect more than 12 knots, and probably less. Furthermore, although he had lost count,
Niagara must have fired most of her ammunition by now, so he faced the real and humiliating possibility of running out of shells mid-battle.
When the smoke parted again to reveal this new foe, at a range of 8000 meters, Von Schönberg felt a sudden sense of calm, even Grace, wash over him. Through the smoke he saw the spotting tops, triple funnels, turrets and sponsons of a Royal Navy armoured cruiser. Perhaps of
Monmouth Class? The Royal Navy had so many cruisers, they were hard to tell apart. In this moment, he had no duties left to discharge, he had done his utmost. He had no hand left to play at this point, and even if
Niagara’s holds were full of ammunition, it would make no difference.
“Prepare scuttling charges, and abandon ship,” was his last order.
Niagara launched what boats remained, full of the surviving crew and as many wounded as could be rescued from the burning and flooding passageways below. As the boats pulled away, a demolition charge blew out the bottom of the forward hold and
Niagara sank dramatically by the bow, throwing her stern high in the air before plunging into the deeps. Her Imperial Ensign still flew until the water closed over it. At the same moment, 5000 meters away,
HMS Orama rolled over onto her side and sank.
HMS Kent stopped to pick up survivors from both sunken liners. Captain Karl Von Schönberg was not among them. He was not inclined to signal his surrender, had he even been able to, and one of Kent’s last salvoes had struck
Niagara squarely on the bridge.
HMS Kent picked up 108 survivors from
Niagara, fewer from
Orama, then noticed a flare and rescued the crew of her own collier
Trevanian.
Niagara’s boarding party raised the sails on their lifeboats and disappeared into a wall of rain, sailing themselves to Callao to join the crew on SS Luxor for the duration of the war.
– Fin –
HMS Orama
HMS Kent
SMS Niagara sinking
RMS Niagara was an ocean liner launched on 17 August 1912 and owned by the Union Steam Ship Company intended for the AustraliaVancouver, Canada service. She was nicknamed the Titanic of the Pacific, but after the sinking of the real RMSTitanic this was dropped in favour of Queen of the Pacific
alchetron.com
HMS Orama sinking
Screw Steamer ORAMA built by John Brown & Co Ltd. in 1911 for Orient Steam Navigation Co. Ltd., Glasgow., Passenger Torpedoed by U-62 off South coast of Ireland about 48N - 09.20W.<br />She was serving as an Armed Merchant Cruiser.<br />She took four hours to sink and all 479 men got off.
www.clydeships.co.uk
Memorial for Captain Karl Von Schönberg