Leaving Plymouth Sound
Monday 19th July 1915
In spite of being overcrowded (several in the mess were unable to
get into the cabin) I managed to get a good night’s sleep (though I found my
hammock had been slung on the wrong hooks).
When we awoke there was a mist hanging over the Hamoaze, but
this gradually lifted and we were able to get a clear view of our
surroundings. Hutchings was allowed to go on shore for ½ hour.
Had a look around the ship in the morning and tried to find a spot to
make myself comfortable. It was impossible as were packed like sardines.
The tug ‘Industrious’ attached herself to us about 3:45pm and we
were slowly towed down the Hamoaze.
It was rather a peculiar sensation passing familiar objects under such
circumstances – yet at times it seemed as if we were on a pleasure trip
until the sight of pith helmets and khaki uniforms disillusioned one. Passed
Torpoint on our right and Devonport on the left and soon alongside the
Impregnable where the boys lined the deck and cheered us. Drake’s Island
was now just in front of us, and after passing Mount Wise it wasn’t long
before we were in sight of Plymouth Hoe.
The Promenade and slopes were dotted with people who waved us
farewell with their handkerchiefs. I could hardly help wondering if I should
ever see the Hoe again.
Gerrie and I managed to get a decent perch on top of the stern
where we had a splendid view. We could just trace the position of
Greenbank Ave. by St. Jude’s Church and Beaumont Park. Dartmoor
loomed up impressively in the distance.
We were able to pick out familiar landmarks in the town. One of the
vessels in the Sound hoisted our regimental colours as we passed and we
were soon followed by our escort – a Torpedo Destroyer who overtook
us when we reached the Breakwater and then led the way.
We were able to see the town glistening in the sun for quite a long
time. Mount Edgcumbe and Staddon were very prominent. Our course was
almost due South from the Breakwater. We could see Bolt Head but it
wasn’t clear enough to see Looe Island to the west.
Just before we reached the Eddystone Plymouth was lost to view
(partly through the smoke from our ship).
We passed quite close to the Eddystone and remained on top till all
sight of land was lost and then we went down to the Mess Deck for tea.
We now begin to realise how crowded the boat is. Everyone is huddled all
over every available space and it is impossible to move without damaging
recumbent figures.
It wasn’t long before several were sea sick. They looked very forlorn
leaning over the ship’s rail communing with the fish.
I turned in rather early as our company were detailed for picquet
duty from midnight to 4a.m.
I managed to sling the hammock with more success and soon made
myself comfortable – but the atmosphere was rather stuffy and there was a
lot of grousing on account of hammocks being slung in the wrong mess.
There was some confusion when we were called out at midnight as it
was impossible to find our own kit in the dark. After much grovelling and
vain attempts to disentangle boots, socks etc. we were informed that the
parade was washed out – whereat we rejoiced much and once more
ensconced ourselves in our hammocks to sleep the sleep of the just.