Across the Atlantic in a Dry Dock

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ACROSS THE ATLANTIC IN A DRY DOCK
New Zealand Herald,
Vol. XLIII, ISSUE 13217, 30 June 1906, Supplement

A LONG VOYAGE IN A STRANGE CRAFT

White with encrusted salt and streaked red with rust, slowly following the load of the three weary ships that towed it, the big dry dock Dewey passed into the Mediterranean after one of the most marvellous passages ever made across the western ocean.

It is a far cry back to that December day when the Solomon Islanders watched with regret the departure of the flotilla with the dock that had lain so long in the shelter of its shores, and much credit is due those in charge for bringing the ungainly monster safely through four thousand miles of stormy seas and what is' considered the worst section of a twelve thousand mile voyage.

All who saw the huge structure as it stood for months immovable as a fortress completing its preparation for sea, its great sides towering above the masts of surrounding craft, admitted that the Navy 'Department was undertaking a large task in taking it out to the Philippines, and later events proved that they were right.

Down the Patuxent River and out into the Chesapeake the long tow picked its way through fleets of little oyster vessels which, disturbed at their dredging, like frightened gulls, took hurried flight at our approach, to settle down only after the strange procession had passed.

Now, having the; dock to ourselves, we had an opportunity to look about and see what manner of craft was this in which we are going down to sea.

Roomy she was beyond question, and one can well realise where the one hundred and fifty tons of red lead that it took to paint her went when one considers that five times around the top sides is over a mile and her high walls tower nearly 60 feet above the water.

The quarters, considering the limitations, are roomy, well lighted and ventilated, with cold draught system for keeping the temperature down in a hot climate, but none for keeping it up in a cold one, save a makeshift arrangement of soft coal burning stoves, with the pipe thrust out through the nearest port, filling the room with nauseating smoke and gas.

ON THE ODD CRAFT

At the after-end of a long passage running the full length of the dock is the cabin, at the other end the fo'castle. Between the two and opening on this alleyway are the staterooms, mess and bath.

The dock carries a company of 32, divided into the captain's and the fo'castle mess, each with its own cook and attendants.

Captain J. D. Wood, sailing master, has a chief and second mate. Mr. Philip Mullen, chief boatswain, U.S.N., is in charge of the towing gear.  Mr. Hans Hanssen, designer of the dock, is advisory dock expert, and Mr. J. H. Detwiler, who will remain with the dock in Manila as permanent dock master, is also making the trip in her.

Besides engineers, firemen and fourteen seamen, the Dewey also carries a rigger, carpenter and wireless operator.

Our first night out came on black and threatening and later developed into a succession of mild squalls of wind, rain and an enveloping fog, through all of which the long, awkward tow carefully groped its way.

The bad weather of the night before made it plain that some sort of shelter was necessary on the top side, where standing watch under such conditions was a positive hardship, as the wind, meeting the, resistance of the great side walls. swept over the edge with a fury that beat rain and spoondrift into one's face with a sting like bird shot, while the wet, slippery iron deck gave rather a precarious footing for such a height.

So with the help of the carpenter, the quarterdeck was adorned with a charthouse, which made up in utility what it lacked in grace, for, besides giving a comfortable lee, it furnished a most convenient place for keeping signals, log book and nautical instruments, for be it known, the Dewey is navigated like any other seagoing ship so far as it is possible in a craft with neither means of propulsion nor steering gear of its own, and her position reported every day at noon to the flagship with the rest of the fleet. This is a precaution against parting company in a gale, when, if such an event occurred, the dock by means of her wireless apparatus could make known its position and be picked up without delay.

To our intense satisfaction we found that the ungainly craft went through none of the strange antics predicted by the wise ones ashore, but followed the ships docilely enough, and, though not keeping in strict column formation, owing to the pressure of the wind on her side swinging her off at an angle, made as good progress in this manner as though squarely butting the seas with her blunt end.

The third day out the higher temperature of the Gulf Stream gave us a welcome relief from the obnoxious stoves, and the moderate weather gave the Glacier, hitherto holding aloof, an opportunity of taking a hand in the towing. Under slackened speed she came up astern, ranged alongside, and, smartly passing her line to us, drew ahead to take a position on our starboard bow.

Owing to a sudden puff of wind the dock swerved enough from her course to cause an eddy, and as soon as the Glacier felt the suction, under her slackened speed and with only a single screw, she lost steerage way and, in spite of all that could be done to prevent it, swung her full, length across our path.

Nothing but the prompt action of her commander in stopping the tow. and thus allowing his ship to cross over the sunken tow line, saved her from what might have been serious injury.

By this time the game little Potomac was getting short of coal and was ordered  cast off and go to Bermuda to replenish her stock.

Afterwards, for coal economy, the Potomac was towed behind the dock, excepting when acting as tender to the fleet, and the Glacier took her place at the head of the fleet.

Then followed our golden days, when in spite of a heavy roll from northward, for nearly two weeks we made average daily runs of over one hundred miles, and in the warm, sunny weather life on the Dewey went merrily on.

With an immense amount of towing gear to look after, dynamos, condensers and evaporators to be kept running, all hands were busy during the day, but the long evenings off watch were whiled away by interminable games of solitaire, a stiff game of poker or maybe a long yarn of the Indian Ocean or frozen Arctic by men who had sailed them all their lives.

Of course among so many men there must be pets, and two kittens were enrolled as privileged members of the dock's crew at Solomon's. One became a great favourite and pampered pet, but the other liked not the society of man, and lived among the keel blocks on the lower deck.

THE TOW-LINE BREAKS

One night as the writer watched the great dripping towing bridle come black and glistening out of it, a sudden shock, followed by the instant disappearance of the chain altogether, while the "bull rope" that suspended if from the over-hanging bridge vibrated like a fiddle string with the strain put upon it, told plainly the line had parted somewhere and we were adrift. Instantly the crew awoke, and while the lookout reported to the dock officer the deep bass of the whistles passed the word along the line to the Glacier, far ahead, whose lights flashed back orders in turn. Out of the fo'castle tumbled the men to the shrill cry of "All hands!" and as they took their stations the black smoke pouring from our tall funnels showed that the firemen were busy below.

The dock, which but a few minutes before trembled at the impact of the heavy seas, now vibrated with steam winch and capstans, as all light long the crew toiled at getting in and stowing the monster chain bridles and water-soaked fifteen-inch hawsers. Not till almost noon the next day was it all stowed safely on deck in a great soggy heap, and.it was two o'clock before we were under way again.

Three times we went adrift, and distance painfully gained was swept away by the dock, which wallowed off in the trough of the sea before the wind at a gait that made our puny efforts look sick and our course a crazy zigzag.

On going adrift the draught was always increased, as was also the case in exceptionally heavy weather. This made our craft comfortable enough, even in the trough of a big sea, and while the rest of the fleet were wildly tossing about, breaking furniture and china, the Dewey never so much as spilled a glass of water.

WEEKS UNDER BATTENED HATCHES

The plight of the Potomac was especially pitiful, and the men, when we had a chance to see them, showed the effects of the miserable existence aboard her. For weeks at a time they lived under battened hatches, as the huge seas tossed their little ship about like an eggshell. Small wonder that some of her crew deserted at the first opportunity.

After a passage of two months the coal and water supply in the flotilla was getting low, so a stop at the Canaries was considered advisable, and the Potomac was despatched ahead to prepare the way for the Dewey in Las Palmas.

Away she went like a bird of captivity, leaving a long streak of foam trailing after her, and a day or two later, in the sheltering lee of majestic Teneriffe, the tow separated and shortened hawsers for our trip through the islands.

What these isolated islanders in their mountain villages thought of the strange fleet standing about in so queer a manner for a whole day off their shores would be interesting to know. Had it been a day later instead they might have taken alarm at the Yankee fleet when flags were broken out and a national salute was fired in honour of Washington's Birthday.

ARRIVAL AT LAS PALMAS

Next day, on February 23, 57 days out from home, towed by the Caesar alone, we slipped into the beautiful harbour of Las Palmas, while the natives lined the wharves and housetops on the hills.

A few days later the cruiser Tacoma appeared off the harbour with repairs for the towing machines and fired a salute to the flag of old Spain, and the fort on the mountainside replied with one to Old Glory.

During our stay here the dock was visited by as many as could gain the privilege. Most interesting among these were a company of middies from H.M.S. Isis, who swarmed over the dock, intensely interested in the strange craft and our voyage in her.

Had we remained a week or two longer the dock with its significant name might have been visited by the King of Spain himself, as he paid a state visit to the islands shortly after our departure.

Thoroughly refitted, we once more put to sea on March 17, and up for Gibraltar against a two-knot current, but fortunately encountered no heavy weather; and when the great rock rose out of the sea ahead we felt that at last one stage of our journey was over, and we entered the Mediterranean with fresh confidence in our ability to weather the storms of other seas yet to conquer.

Outside of the demise of three Chinese sailors from beri-beri on the Caesar. there was no serious illness in the fleet on the passage over. Poor Chinks, deprived of a Chinaman's chief ambition of a ceremonial funeral, they were buried at sea with what honours we could give, and at a burial all ships took part.

Under slow headway, and with flags at halfmast, the white-shrouded figure was slipped over the side into the sea, and as the bugler on the Glacier sounded "taps," his shipmates tossed after him contributions of rice to provide for his voyage to the Chinese heaven. He was even defrauded of that poor consolation, however, as a few gulls that had been circling about swooped down, and with loud screams devoured the unexpected feast.

[The original document from which this article was transcribed can be found here.]