Monroe showed them the engine spaces, where the massive beam engines, fed by five boilers, propelled the ship at twelve knots on average, sometimes more in calm waters. Monroe was like a proud father as he introduced them to his black gang—the seagoing slang term for the men who served the engines and became covered in grease and soot in the process—as they went about their duties in the incredibly hot and dimly lit spaces.
One of the side benefits of a steam engine was the fresh water it could distill from the seawater cooling intakes. Wake learned that Trinidad made the drinking water for all of the crew and passengers, a thousand gallons every day. He also learned that Trinidad had four auxiliary engines to handle the anchors, cargo lifts, circulating pump, and air ventilators. Omaha had only two extra engines and no ventilators. Monroe bragged that if they somehow got a hole the size of a cotton bale in the hull, his pumps could move so much water that they’d never sink. After seeing the machinery, Wake believed him and wished the U.S. Navy was as well equipped.
Wake had never spent time aboard an oceangoing passenger liner and was impressed by the logistics of caring for the passengers so they could continue their civilian comforts. Three meals a day were served to the two hundred fifty passengers, along with a high tea for ladies every day at four o’clock in the afternoon. The service was excellent and passengers were encouraged to relax. He felt absolutely lazy and debauched when Allen suggested they sit in deck chairs and watch the sea go by. In his entire life, Wake had never sat in a chair on a weather deck, and found it luxurious.
They ate with the ship’s officers, a privilege accorded by their profession and rank, and both found the food quite superior to naval fare. The conversations centered around maritime subjects. Many of the British officers had served in the navy and were interested in the latest developments.
One evening after dinner in the officers’ mess the talk shifted to torpedoes and the newest designs. Wake offered no opinion beyond stating that his navy was working on them at Newport in Rhode Island, but that he had no details. As he was speaking he saw that Allen was listening closely to all that was said, particularly by Wake. He wondered if he should bring up the incident at English Harbour and decided no—if Pete Allen was aboard to watch him and gain information from him, the man wouldn’t admit it, and if not, it would just confuse him.
***
Ten days after leaving Barbados, the Canary Islands appeared on the horizon. At sunset that evening the steamer eased into the open anchorage of the town of Santa Cruz de Tenerife and let go her anchor. Wake was impressed—Trinidad had averaged about twelve knots of sustained speed under engines alone for 2,640 miles. When he mentioned it to the others at dinner, the officers said it was not an unusual journey, that the crossing had been in good weather with no mechanical problems and they did it all the time.
The stop at Tenerife was for fuel, for they had consumed over three quarters of their coal on the crossing. In addition to the loss of fuel, the ship was now lighter, with a higher center of gravity and more susceptible to capsizing, so the following morning she was moved closer to the coal depot and the work began. Coaling the steamer was as messy an event as Wake had known with a warship. Colliers came alongside and loaded pallets that were swung down to them, then hauled up by blocks and tackle. Passengers were asked to remain out of the way as the crew turned to and lugged the bags, each weighing one hundred pounds, from the cargo pallets down into the coal bunkers. Soon, fine black dust was everywhere and several ladies were making a fuss about what it had done to their dresses and their hair.
It took all day to load the coal, then stow and tamp it down. The crew that had been on the loading detail was given that night off. They looked exhausted to Wake. At sunrise, however, the ship came to life again, powered up her hook and steamed northeastward, toward the Iberian Peninsula and Europe.
***
“Three days till Cadiz, Peter. Planning on going ashore?” asked Allen that night as they watched the sunset astern from the quarterdeck.
“I might. Don’t know yet.” Wake was thinking of Linda and the children.
“Might do you a spot of good, my friend.” Allen and Wake had become close, and he knew about Linda’s letters and Useppa’s ailments. “Cadiz is an old navy liberty port and I know my way around a bit. I’ll buy the first drinks!”
Wake didn’t feel like going ashore but felt his resolve failing. “You know what? I just might let you, Pete.”
“Said and done, then. The cousins from opposite sides of the pond will have a holiday in Spain! It’ll be our very last chance before we fall under the God-forsaken discipline of our fleets over in the Med, Peter. I really must insist that we enjoy it while we have it.”
Wake smiled at his friend’s enthusiasm. Other than diplomatic affairs, he hadn’t had a run ashore with a friend in years. Key West came to mind.
“Carpe diem, Pete. Let’s do it. Spain . . . here we come.”
11
Spain
Allen’s tone was reverential, as if in a cathedral. “Well there it is, Peter. A few miles off that cape the greatest sailor in our navy won his greatest victory and lost his life doing it. And the Royal Navy’s never been the same since.”
“Quite a sight. The
