Floating Madhouse

by Floating Madhouse

  At close quarters it was still light enough to see that the ship was flying a Red Ensign: which for Michael was a touch embarrassing – or would have been if he’d allowed himself to be personally involved and she was found to be carrying munitions. Despite which, on Zakharov’s instructions he put the first questions to her, using a signal-lamp and Morse code, eliciting that she was the Oldhamia, registered in Liverpool and bound from New York to Nagasaki with a cargo allegedly of petroleum.

  Zakharov looked up at the darkening sky. He’d already taken the precaution of training Ryazan’s for’ard 6-inch turret on the steamer; the guns weren’t loaded yet but Murayev was in the conning-tower with the telephone-line open to that turret and the turret-officer, Tselinyev, awaiting orders. Zakharov told Michael, ‘Make to him, You are to remain in company with us and will be boarded and searched at daylight.’

  Michael called the ship up again and passed that message, phrasing it in translation as Regret to inconvenience but you will have to remain in company in order to be boarded. Both ships got under way, and Zakharov drafted a signal to be passed to the flagship in Tabulevich over the foreyard signal lights. He asked Michael, ‘Will you go over with the boarding party in the morning?’

  ‘No, sir. Sorry.’

  A shrug. ‘Would have eliminated any language problem, that’s all. But naturally…’

  At 0200 on the 19th the ‘flat-iron’ Apraksin developed engine trouble. Speed was reduced to six knots while repairs were carried out. Michael passed the speed alteration by light to the Oldhamia – whose skipper might well have been impressed by the fluency in English of Russian signalmen. The Apraksin had estimated that repairs might take as long as twenty-four hours, but in any case after falling out from dawn action stations the whole squadron stopped engines while the Oldhamia was boarded by a party from the Suvarov, then moved up to lie close abeam of the flagship while she was searched. Meanwhile Ryazan was sent to intercept and examine another ship which seemed to have been giving the squadron a suspiciously wide berth, but which turned out to be Norwegian and in ballast, southbound from Shanghai to Singapore.

  From Michael’s diary – continuing the entry for May 19:

  At 1130 proceeded, at revs for 9 knots. Negra Point on Luzon somewhere abaft the beam to starboard, Hong Kong 400 miles WNW. The Oldhamia is being simultaneously towed and coaled from the Livonia and searched by the flagship’s boarding party, German crew members having alleged that guns and shells are in her lower holds under the cased petrol. This is supported by discrepancy between her draught marks and cargo as declared, Suvarov’s problem now, not ours. Searching is difficult owing to the haphazard way the cased petrol has been stowed. Captain and mate are being obstreperous, apparently, and an engineer tried to sink her by opening a flood-valve in the engine-room, which a Russian warrant engineer officer happened to see in time and shut. Typically bloody-minded attitude from British Merchant Navy stalwarts, delights the heart to hear of it, but unfortunately also rather gives the game away – she must have war material in her.

  During the stoppage this morning a new General Order was distributed around the squadron by boat. Order No 240 of May 19, ‘Night Cruising Formation while Passing Japanese Islands’. Have studied and absorbed it. One problem is the difficulty these chaps have of getting themselves into any formation, even in broad daylight.

  May 20, 0500: Wind has come up a bit, from the East. Fresh, cooler air most welcome. Sea is up too, scale 2 to 3. To starboard Batan, to port Sabtan: small alteration was necessary to pass through Bashi Channel, returning then to previous course to head up east of Formosa approx 100 miles offshore.

  May 21: The Oldhamia with prize crew on board commanded by a senior lieutenant from Suvarov (actually Russian mercantile marine reserve officer) is being sent on her own to Vladivostok via La Perouse Strait. Explains the coaling – without it she wouldn’t have had enough to get there. Searching lower holds at sea has proved impracticable: need to have her alongside a quay with cranes. Her British captain and four officers have been put on board the Orel – in the circumstances, quite decent treatment.

  May 22: Cool, misty night. At 0800 altered course to N 20 West to pass between Miyoko and Liu-Kiu. Overcast, with patchy fog, sea scale 3, wind NNE. Fog raises hopes of more to come – dv. Have already benefited by not being visible from either Miyoko or Liu-Kiu. But if we could have a good old pea-souper – and rather less wind than at present… Why shouldn’t we? Up to now there’s no doubt Togo has had all the luck!

  Kuban and Terek have been sent to cruise off the east coast of Japan with orders to be seen – en route they might for instance be spotted from Okinawa and/or Amami, perhaps then Tanega – as a diversion aimed at making Japs think squadron could be making for Tsugaru or La Perouse. Marvellous if it came off – draw Togo’s main strength northward from the Tsushima area.

  Wind has backed to NW.

  May 23: 0530, stopped to coal. The last time, for sure. Officers in ships’ boats alongside the Livonia during coaling heard from Oslyabya people that Adml Felkerzam is on point of death.

  May 24: Weather deteriorating. Padre Myakishev has convinced himself and others that Saints Seraphim and Nikolai the Just have intervened to fix it for us. There’s no doubt there is a certain amount of optimism around – in this ship anyway. Extraordinary, but true. In Ryazan of course, the spirit has been good right from the start.

  May 25: Showers, and grey overcast. No stars last night or this morning. DR position reliable enough however, puts us about 100 miles off Shanghai. Auxiliaries together with Dniepr and Rion detached. They (D and R) will escort auxiliaries to the Yangtse then carry out cruiser operations off the west coast of Japan.

  Vis is down to 2 or 3 miles, despite wind. Short, choppy sea. ETA Tsushima Strait, early 27th.

  Zakharov had asked him, while drinking a glass of tea in the chartroom on the Wednesday – 24th – ‘Any letters to send, Mikhail Ivan’ich?’

  ‘In the Livonia, you mean?’

  ‘Have you?’

  ‘No.’ He’d said about all there was to say to Tasha in the last one, which by now would have been landed and posted in Saigon. There’d be nothing worth adding, since nothing had changed. In any case, long before she got it – got even that other one – he’d either be in Vladivostok or – or not, and the whole world would know it. He’d asked Zakharov, ‘How about you?’

  ‘Same applies. In that last mail I sent letters to my family, as well as the one you know of.’

  Valedictory letters. They didn’t look at each other, but were both conscious of it. Those who got the letters would know it too: but there again, before receiving them their newspapers would have had telegraphed communiques from Vladivostok, Shanghai, Tokyo. They’d know much more than the senders had when writing them.

  ‘And to Irina?’

  A grunt: pushing a pack of cigarettes to him across the chart-table. ‘Importantly, to Irina. Don’t bother to look so clever, I don’t mind your knowing, it makes no difference to anything else. But that question was only the first of two. The second one is this: would you care to take passage into Shanghai in the Livonia?’

  ‘Then read in some news-sheet of your triumphant arrival in Vladivostok? No thank you. Sooner arrive there with you. Share the glory – uh? But why – d’you want to get shot of me?’

  ‘Far from it.’ A sucking noise as Zakharov drained the glass. ‘Only thought you might have come to your senses.’ Actually there was another element in his thinking now, he realized: a reluctance to have it construed that at the last moment his nerve had cracked.

  * * *

  In the early hours of the 26th Japanese wireless transmissions were picked up, apparently emanating from shore stations. The squadron was now – at 0800 – just over one full day’s steaming from the Tsushima/Korea Strait, with the island of Cheju Do sixty miles on the port bow and Nagasaki a hundred and sixty to starboard, broader on the bow. Slightly astern of schedule as compared to yesterday, through the flat-ir
on Senyavin having developed engine trouble during the night; ETA Tsushima was now noon tomorrow, 27th. The wireless intercepts were apparently routine transmissions, all of about the same duration and being exchanged at regular intervals, with no suggestion of alarm or excitement. A report had been made by light to the flagship, who’d confirmed that her telegraphists (‘torpedomen’) were listening to them too; it was a reasonable assumption, from the uniform nature of the transmissions, that as yet the squadron had not been sighted or reported.

  As the forenoon wore on the cloud-cover was breaking up, but mist still hung in banks restricting visibility to a maximum of about three thousand yards and often only half that. Pretty short range in fact at which to run into a battlefleet – or more likely scouting cruisers. Eyes were skinned, voices lowered, concentration and alertness probably greater than they had been since the Skaw and the Dogger Bank. Cruising formation since parting with the auxiliaries off Shanghai had been – was now, in essence – the scout division consisting of Svetlana, Almaz and Ural in the lead in arrow formation, then the battlefleet in two columns comprising – to starboard – Suvarov, Alexander, Borodino, Oryol, Oslyabya, Sissoy Veliky, Navarin and Nakhimov, and to port Nikolai I, Senyavin, Apraksin, Ushakov, and for good measure the cruisers Oleg, Aurora, Donskoi and Monomakh. On the port beam the Zemchug had two destroyers with her and to starboard the Izumrud had another pair. They were the guardians of their respective sides; while astern of the ‘battleship’ columns in single line were the transports Anadyr, Irtysh, Korea, Sibir and Kamchatka with the tugs Rus and Svir to give them a hand if necessary, and the other five torpedo-boat destroyers. Astern of them in line abreast came the two graceful-looking, high-prowed hospital-ships, with Ryazan to defend them as well as act as rearguard, with freedom to move out to either quarter if there was reason to – to ward off out-flanking attempts by torpedo-boats, for instance. Similarly the scout division, prior to commencement of battle, were to fall back on the disengaged side and conduct the transports to some safe distance, while the Zemchug and Izumrud with their four destroyers would take station wherever on the disengaged side they could best counter encircling movements by enemy cruisers or destroyers.

  The basic premise, in Russian intentions anyway, was that the heavyweights with their big guns would win (or lose) the battle, cruisers and destroyers then administering coups de grâce and cleaning up the lesser fry. Alternatively of course being cleaned-up themselves.

  Michael added to his diary entry in the afternoon:

  Forenoon spent exercising re-disposition into order of battle. In nutshell: scouts and others hauling out to starboard, auxiliaries ditto, while ‘battleships’ form single line: starboard column – Suvarov plus 7 – increasing revs and altering together 2 points to port, Nyebogatov’s column then forming line astern on them as they (Suvarovs and co) resume previous course. At third attempt this was executed to Rojhestvensky’s satisfaction.

  NB The Oslyabya is now flying a dead man’s flag.

  Japanese wireless transmissions continued throughout the day and into the night, in the same pattern of routine communications. Michael snoozed on the chartroom couch during the late afternoon/early evening, aware that there might be little chance of sleep in the days and nights ahead, and woke knowing that Anna Feodorovna would have been the influence behind Tasha’s apparently changing attitude – if indeed there had been any such change, not merely his own over-sensitivity to the combination of those two letters, their sequence first recrimination, then ‘By the way, we’re seeing a lot of the Derevyenkos’.

  Euphemism for ‘I am seeing a lot of Pavel Derevyenko’?

  Almost certainly would have been Mama’s influence. As she’d said that day in Yalta, We’re close – as you’ll have realized, she takes notice. Meaning, Does what I tell her. Although that might not be quite as much the case now as she – Anna – thought it was; in Paris, Tasha had not been so compliant – bless her… He’d arrived from England to join them for two days at old Tatiana’s magnificent hotel on the Place des Vosges, expecting – partly out of wishful thinking maybe, but since this Paris rendezvous had been Anna Feodorovna’s idea, to mollify Tasha, who’d been in despair at the imminence of his departure as well as traumatized by the betrothal business – that in the circumstances Anna’s blind eye would be discreetly turned. But not a bit of it. That may have been in her mind when they’d left Injhavino, but if it had been she’d had second thoughts since then, had taken a room for him in a pension a few hundred yards away. She’d murmured to him when they’d been alone and he’d made some comment on it, ‘Did you think I’d want her left enceinte?’

  ‘Why, no, of course—’

  ‘At Injhavino, did you take precautions?’

  ‘No, because—’

  ‘So let’s hope to God—’

  ‘I didn’t have any – precautions!’

  ‘But now you do have, you’re going to tell me. It’s beside the point. Nothing’s certain in this world, and I will not risk – my God, Micky, the situation you’d leave us in – may even have done already! Can you imagine what would be her father’s reactions to such a scandal – and you’d expect me actually to connive at my own daughter’s—’

  ‘I suppose I just didn’t think.’

  ‘Was I wrong when I said in Yalta you’re a man of honour, wouldn’t risk such appalling—’

  ‘At Injhavino it was entirely different. You know it was. It was – cataclysmic. As for being a man of honour, I’d marry her today!’

  ‘When she’s betrothed to someone else and you’re leaving for Port Arthur the day after tomorrow?’

  ‘Well – there might be some way… Except it would put you in – a somewhat invidious position…’

  She agreed – it would have put her in an absolutely frightful position. As would permitting him to stay in the house with them: and the servants knowing. Servants got to know everything… ‘I’m astounded you haven’t learnt that lesson, Micky!’ But Tasha had written him a note which she’d had inside her glove and slipped to him next morning when the three of them went out for a stroll together. He’d read – later:

  If you can extend your stay by one day, on Wednesday afternoon we could have the use of a friend’s apartment. I’m supposed to be visiting a dentist and then taking tea with other people. You might contrive some pre-arrangement of your own for that afternoon.

  He’d told them he had to keep an appointment at the British embassy on Wednesday, was therefore extending his visit by one day – might cut it a bit fine in getting to Libau, but couldn’t help that, could only trust to luck. Looking at Tasha: ‘I’d have that morning free, anyway – and the evening—’

  ‘Wednesday – I’ve promised the de Carentans – it’s the afternoon we’re—’

  ‘You shouldn’t let them down, Tasha. You’re seeing the dentist too – and that you mustn’t miss. But the three of us might dine together. A farewell dinner. What time is the embassy meeting, Micky?’

  ‘Early afternoon – if this man arrives on time –’ glancing at Tasha – ‘and I dare say a few hours—’

  ‘You’d be free to join us for the evening, anyway.’

  ‘But –’ to Tasha – ‘you will see me off on Thursday at the Gare du Nord?’

  ‘Of course I will! I wouldn’t dream of letting you set off on your own!’

  Her mother had shrugged. ‘I’ll let you do that on your own. Friday, you realize, we leave for Yalta?’

  Tasha’s shining eyes and subdued inner smile then: telling him while not letting her mother see it Wednesday – the hell with Friday! Wednesday at 2.30, Rue des Poiriers, deuxième étage: she must have been waiting with her ear against the door, he’d been about to tap on it when it had opened as if by magic and she’d pulled him in: Tasha lovelier than ever in a green-striped peignoir borrowed from her friend Elise.

  * * *

  Rojhestvensky made a general signal that evening – the 26th – Tomorrow at Colours battle ensigns are to be hoisted an
d ships cleared for action.

  Colours was the ensign-hoisting ritual invariably performed at 0800. Dawn action stations would be at 0500, falling out after about an hour – depending on visibility and whether there were indications of enemy ships nearby – and the ship’s company would then be sent to breakfast. By 0800 – subject to breakdowns between now and then – the squadron would still be about four hours short of Tsushima.

  Zakharov came into the chartroom, where Michael was bringing the navigational log up to date. This morning there’d been a few stars visible, but thanks to the fog, no horizon. He was still relying on dead reckoning therefore – course steered and distance run by log. The flagship – Captain Sidorenko, assisted by Nick Sollogub – would have been doing the same, one might assume getting near-identical results.

  Michael pointed at the signal-file. ‘Battle ensigns at eight.’

  ‘Yes. I saw it.’ Zakharov leaning with his fists on the table’s edge, eyes following the pencilled track passing east of Tsushima, midway between it and the Honshu mainland coast. ‘He’s not trying to persuade us we’ll get through without a fight.’

  ‘Doesn’t have much faith in his own deception gambit, then.’

  ‘Having had time to think about it, nor do I. Togo wouldn’t either – that’s what counts. Who in his right mind would elect to steam an extra fifteen hundred miles – needing coaling stops – at least one – in the open sea, which might be rough the whole damn way?’