It was a gloomy prospect, this, with
the darkening water beneath a leaden sky that gave no promise of
a brighter view. It was as if suddenly we had landed at Brest,
and our view of the dark gray rocks and the penetrating air made
the picture so real our teeth began to chatter.
We soon arrived at our comfortable quarters where we hastily
withdrew, for the rumbling thunder that followed the vivid
flashes of lightning which darted from the black masses of
flying clouds told us that a storm was imminent. While partaking
of our evening meal we heard the mingled sound of wind and
waves. As soon as we had finished we passed through a spacious
room which led to a long veranda, from which a commanding view
of the ocean and surrounding country could be had.
What a scene! All was now darkness save the crests of the
breakers that pierced the gloom with their silvery whiteness.
The sea was torn and shattered by the wild raging wind and hid
its far-sounding waves in a mystery of dread. Several people
paced to and from the veranda, appearing suddenly and as
suddenly vanishing in the gloom. Only the light of a vessel far
out at sea penetrated the darkness and shone with a muffled,
sullen glare. The red flashes of lightning revealed low-hung
clouds of inky blackness rolling toward us; and the deep roar of
the advancing storm, broken only by the loud booming breakers,
became awesome.
Fiercer and louder shrieked the gale; while the doleful sound of
a bell on a buoy warned mariners of impending danger as it
rocked upon the bewildered sea. The water was invisible save
where the long flashing lines of the surf plunged from the gray
gloom. Their immense volumes rose in pyramidal heaps, whose tops
shone white where they seemed to gather at one point and then
their silvery lines spread slowly away on both sides as though
unseen hands were pulling them out in even terraces that broke
tip on the rocks with a deafening roar. Back of the first wave
was another, and farther back still others, that advanced to a
certain point and then spread out evenly, like terraced cascades
of purest marble.
The loud crashes of thunder mingled with the shriek of the wind,
the booming breakers became more awful, and we could imagine
unknown foes advancing to combat along the shore. Like phalanxes
with walls of silver shields they followed each other swiftly
and disappeared like a line of soldiers cut down in battle. The
howling wind and moaning waves "were like laments for the
vanquished hosts." This ceaseless welter of the elements became
more awe-inspiring as another boat appeared in the distance like
some fiery monster of the deep. It seemed the very spirit of the
sullen storm. As it drew nearer we beheld a vast fortress
besieged by the angry waves.
The desolateness of the scene was heightened by listening to
George relate his tales of storm and disaster while homeward
bound on the U. S. S. Roanoke in Mine Squadron One.
"We left England in the month of December. The first day at sea
was fine. No fear or anxious moments were ours. We sped swiftly
over the peaceful water that glittered with a dazzling metallic
luster. In the level rays of the morning sun we beheld a
gradation of rare tints 'infinitely harmonious and yet
superlatively rich.' A short distance away from us the ocean was
deep blue; nearer it was light green, while far out toward the
horizon it attained that iridescence which is indescribable.
Everyone on board was supremely happy. All ten mine layers with
the flagship had their homeward bound pennants flying. We gazed
for hours at the play of light on the water, ever discovering
new and wonderful combinations.
"The second day out we ran into a storm that lasted three days
and nights. The dismal curtains of the sky were drawn and we
could hear the sullen tone of the advancing storm as onward we
plowed through the ever-growing foam-crested waves. The second
day the sea became awesome, and breathlessly we watched each
mountain wave that swept past leaving us still unharmed. Great
masses of frothing billows came hurtling out of the gloom, which
grew blacker and more menacing every hour. The sight of the
ships tossing upon the mountainous masses was ominous, almost
appalling. The billows broke with deafening roar, hurling tons
of water on board, often filling the spacious decks fore and aft
with their seething flood.
"About the middle of the second day the storm began gradually to
abate. The few cheerless gleams on the third day revealed a most
awe-inspiring view. Far as the eye could see in every direction
the ocean was torn into snowy foam by the raging wind. After the
storm we had but five of the original ten ships left in the
fleet. Several were disabled and three of the other boats towed
them to near ports.
"After the fourth day out we had fine weather for several days.
On Christmas morn we ran into a heavy fog. We could not see from
one end of the boat to the other, but no accidents befell us.
This day brought many thoughts of home, especially at dinner
time, for our menu was simply beans and nothing more, our
supplies of other edibles being exhausted. We each received a
cigar as a present. At eight o'clock on Christmas eve I went on
lifeboat watch. The relieved watch all went below and crawled up
in their hammocks for the night. The lights from the boat showed
she was groping her way through fantastic wreaths of fog, whose
dense white masses enclosed us like a wall.
