Jumping Jacks

One of the two greatest warships in the world is H. M. S. Nelson* which upped anchor in Portsmouth harbor last week and steamed out to sea at ebb tide. Just at the harbor mouth the 33,500-ton island of grey steel nosed into a bank of soft mud and stuck. On board was the new com mander of Britain's Home Fleet, Vice-Admiral Sir William Henry Dudley ("Ginger") Boyle, K. C. B. Along the deck went he to the control tower, to confer with the Commanding Officer Captain Patrick Macnamara, well known in Washington last year as British naval attache. "This is your ship. Captain," said the Admiral. "Might I ask what you propose to do?" When he heard what the ebullient Irish Captain Macnamara proposed to do, the Admiral's eyebrows rose straight up to the embroidered oak leaves on his cap. To Captain Macnamara, who had gone punting many a time as a boy, mud was no stranger. Bugles blew men to quarters. Down along 650 feet of deck raced 1,300 warrant officers, petty officers, sailors, Royal Marines to jam themselves on the tiny stern deck abaft the anti-aircraft guns. A petty officer with a megaphone scrambled to the top of the stern range finder. "By the numbers, jump!" he bellowed. "One--two--three--HIPE!!" As one man. 1,300 seamen sprang in the air to land with a shattering crash directly over the cabin of "Ginger" Boyle.

Up & down they went, again & again, but this maneuver, so useful in punting, failed completely to give the buoyancy necessary to back the Nelson off the mud bank.

Resourceful Captain Macnamara had another idea. With Admiral Boyle's ap proval, wireless summoned full speed out from Portsmouth seven destroyers. Resting from their jumping, the Nelson's crew leaned over the taffrail and cheered themselves hoarse while the seven little boats skidded at 35 knots, like terriers around a cow, closer and closer to the great ship in an effort to sweep the mud away with their wash. They made tremendous waves but the only result was to swing the Nelson still more firmly on the bank and completely wreck the pontoon bridge between Portsmouth and Gosport, three-quarters of a mile away.

By this time the tide was rising. Forward oil tanks and ammunition magazines were emptied onto lighters. Finally the Nelson floated off by herself and returned to her Portsmouth dock for a hasty examination before proceeding on her three-month cruise to the West Indies.

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