Victorious in the greatest race of her day was the U.S.S. Oregon, “first rate” battleship of the Spanish-American War.
From San Francisco to Jupiter Inlet, Florida, via the Straits of Magellan, the racing Oregon made the gruelling 14,700- miles dash in the then incredibly short time of 68 days. Perhaps more remarkable was the fact that the Oregon, without any engineering repairs, was thrown into the battle at Santiago de Cuba where she excelled in both gunnery and engineering performances.
War clouds hung heavy over the nation just before the Oregon received her orders to join the East Coast squadron. The U.S.S. Maine had treacherously been blown up in Havana harbor on the night of February 15, 1898, and public feeling ran high. While William Randolph Hearst’s New York Journal offered a $50,000 reward for the detection of the perpetrator of the Maine's destruction, the Saturday Review alarmingly warned the nation that “America is not ready for the war. . . Of the prospective naval war the Saturday Review said:”. . . sea-fighting is such an unknown quantity that no one can pretend, in a case where there is no manifest and overwhelming superiority, to predict the result.” Confusion had a firm grip on the nation.
On March 7th, Secretary of Navy John D. Loug wired Captain Alexander H. McCormick, USN, skipper of the Oregon, then at Bremerton, Washington: ‘The situation is getting worse. You should go to San Francisco as soon as possible and get ammunition.”
Upon arrival in San Francisco Captain McCormick became ill and was relieved by Rear Admiral (then Captain) Charles E. Clark, USN, who assumed command on March 17th.
Because of the precarious conditions which prevailed, the Navy Department decided the Oregon should join the East Coast squadron. This decision was made mainly because of lack of information about the Spaniards’ Atlantic squadron commanded by Rear Admiral Pascual Cervera. It was believed that the two Atlantic fleets were so evenly matched that the addition of one more ship would mean the difference between victory and defeat. So essential was the Oregon’s presence on the East Coast considered that the government ordered her to circumnavigate the South American continent even though it might mean running head on into the enemy’s fleet.
The U.S.S. Oregon, stripped to a bare hulk during World War II, was considered a “first rate” battleship when she was commissioned on July 15, 1891. Built by the Union Iron Works of San Francisco, she cost over $3,000,000. Having a displacement of 10,288 tons, she was 348 feet long, 69 feet 3 inches wide, and had a draft of 24 feet. Fitted with twin screws she was driven by vertical triple-expansion engines of 11,037 horse power, which enabled her to make 16.79 knots. A coal burner, the Oregon was capable of carrying 1,600 tons of coal in her bunkers.
Oregon’s armament consisted of four 13- inch, eight 8-inch, and four 6-inch guns; twenty 6-pounders and two 1-pounders, plus four machine guns and two Whitehead torpedo tubes. (Today the Oregon is at Apra Harbor, Guam, where she was towed for use as a breakwater during World War II.)
War had not yet been declared, but it was imminent, and on March 12th the Secretary of the Navy sent the following dispatch to the commander of the Oregon:
“Sir: When in all respects ready for sea proceed, with the vessel under your command, to Callao, Peru, and await further orders.
“In view of the present critical condition of affairs, the Oregon should leave San Francisco at the earliest possible date and arrive at Callao as soon as practicable.
“The crew is to be constantly drilled, the passage of the ship not to be delayed thereby.
“Very respectfully, John D. Long, Secretary.”
On March 19th the Oregon left San Francisco for Callao after having stored up on ammunition, provisions, and coal.
To insure that the Oregon would have no difficulties in obtaining coal when reaching Callao, the Navy Department ordered the gunboat Marietta at Panama, Colombia, to proceed to Callao and make coaling arrangements for the Oregon. These arrangements were completed on March 31st, and having made a report to the Navy Department, the Marietta sailed for Valparaiso, Chile.
As the Oregon entered the tropics, making a little more than 11 knots, the Chief Engineer, R. W. Milligan, suggested to Captain Clark that no salt water should be allowed to enter the boilers. Otherwise, he claimed, the Oregon would never be able to keep up the steady pace to the East Coast. Captain Clark was hesitant to do this at first since it would mean a drastic rationing of drinking water for the crew, and that the water issued would be warm and unpalatable. However, when Captain Clark explained this situation to the crew, not a murmur against the deprivation was made, because one and all were anxious to get into a scrap with the Spaniards as soon as possible. What little ice was made aboard the Oregon on the entire trip was given only to the firemen and coal passers.
The Oregon arrived at Callao on April 4th, having averaged a speed of 10.7 knots. While taking aboard 1,100 tons of coal, 100 tons of which were stored in bags on deck, Captain Clark wired the Navy Department:
“. . . . Will be ready to sail Thursday night (7th). I can make Montevideo, perhaps Rio de Janeiro, not stopping at Valparaiso, and if coal may be obtained at Sandy Point, Patagonia, I could make Bahia.”
While ordering the gunboat Marietta to leave Valparaiso and go to Sandy Point, Patagonia, to make arrangements for the Oregon to pick up 600 tons of coal, the Navy Department issued orders for the Oregon to proceed for Montevideo or Rio de Janeiro. Captain Clark was also advised that the Spanish torpedo boat Tenterario was located in Montevideo. Trouble lay ahead as the Oregon sailed from Callao on April 7th.
Avoiding the perilous Cape Horn, Captain Clark headed the Oregon for the Straits of Magellan on the afternoon of April 16th. Just as the Oregon entered the Straits a violent gale blew up, followed by thick fog and rough, heavy seas. The ship pitched heavily. The dangerous seas swept constantly over the decks, the jack staff at times being completely drowned by the treacherous water.
To avoid being blown against suicidal reefs and rocks, the anchors were dropped. The roaring seas caused one anchor chain to run out for about 125 fathoms before it could be checked. Luckily, however, both anchors held fast during the night, and the Oregon rode the storm out safely.
The next morning, the 17th, Oregon got underway for Sandy Point, where she anchored that same evening. The run from Callao was made at the average speed of 11.75 knots.
To his annoyance, Captain Clark found the hulk from which coal for the Oregon was to be taken covered with wool. For three days the crew worked day and night removing wool and loading coal. On the 21st the Oregon was coaled, and in company with the Marietta left Sandy Point, her next destination being Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.
Captain Clark had rigidly complied with the Navy Department’s order to conduct drills while underway. Hardly a day went by without the officers and crew being subjected to some type of emergency drill, general quarters, and firing practice. Taking no chances on a run-in with the Spanish torpedo boat Temerario en route to Rio, he had the Oregon's eight and six-inch guns loaded, ready for battle at a moment’s notice. Condition watches were stationed, and the crew ready to spring into action should an enemy ship appear on the horizon.
No word that war with Spain had been declared on April 21 reached the Oregon until she entered Rio on the 30th. Rio newspapers were full of wild rumors about the war, but Captain Clark could not make any decisions until he received orders from Washington.
However, in order not to be caught off guard by a sudden appearance of the Temerario, the Oregon steamed up the bay, with coal lighters alongside, to a point two miles away from the anchorage ordinarily used by men-of-war. Should the Spaniard enter port and also head up the bay, Captain Clark would be sure that Temerario would be looking for a fight instead of anchorage. In such an event, the Oregon would immediately open fire on the Spanish torpedo boat.
An officer was sent ashore to explain this plan to the Brazilian Minister of Marine. Captain Clark was afraid that Brazilian authorities might tell him to leave port, but was pleasantly surprised when the officer returned and advised him that a Brazilian cruiser would be dispatched to keep watch on the Temerario, should she enter port. Captain Clark was also assured that should the Spanish warship move, it would only be to move out of the harbor.
Conflicting rumors regarding the whereabouts of Admiral Cervera’s fleet enticed East Coast inhabitants to cry for unwarranted naval protection with the result that Commodore Schley’s “Flying Squadron” patrolled the Atlantic coast. It was an unreasoning panic, which became high-pitched when the public became concerned about the safety of the U.S.S. Oregon. Fear was great that she should fall prey to Admiral Cervera’s fleet which, the rumors had it, was heading toward the South-American coast to intercept her. The only thought, however, which concerned Cervera, was not to intercept the Oregon, but to save himself.
Confusion reigned not only with the people, but also with the government. Although President William McKinley had signed a proclamation calling for volunteer troops of 125,000 men, the Army was virtually unprepared for war. The Navy, however, aided by 4,000 reservists of the state naval militias, was in a better state of preparedness.
The government had offered to buy an almost worthless merchant vessel from the almost bankrupt Brazilian government, and because of this, Captain Clark found himself with another slow-moving traveling companion, the Nictheroy. To add to the seemingly comical confusion which existed, Captain Clark received several conflicting instructions while in Rio.
First, on April 30th he was informed of the declaration of war and told to await further orders. On the 1st of May Secretary of Navy Long wired Captain Clark that Admiral Cervera’s fleet had left Cape de Verde to the west, destination unknown. He was told to “beware of and study carefully the situation. Must be left to your discretion entirely to avoid this fleet and to reach the United States by West Indies. You can go when and where you desire. Nictheroy and the Marietta subject to the orders of yourself.”
Orders not to sail from Rio until further orders were received the following day. Later in the same day the previous order was countermanded, and the Oregon and the two smaller ships were ordered to carry out orders issued May 1st. On May 3rd Secretary of Navy Long informed Clark of Dewey’s victory at Manila, and asked for Clark’s future plans.
From the telegrams received, Captain Clark felt that the Oregon's position was critical, and that he should attempt to join Admiral Sampson’s fleet as soon as possible. He doubted that Cervera’s fleet would venture to the Latin-American coast to seek out just one ship, especially when the chances of completely missing that ship were so great. However, in the event the Oregon should run into the Spanish ships, Clark had formulated plans for a running battle. If they met, Clark was certain that the Oregon’s Horatian tactics would inflict heavy damage to her Spanish contemporaries.
Oregon sailed from Rio on the 4th of May bound for Bahia, Brazil. With the slow- moving Marietta and Nictheroy proving to be handicaps, they were ordered to proceed on their own toward the United States or, in the event they should encounter the Spaniards, to beach themselves to avoid capture.
Upon reporting his arrival in Bahia on the 8th of May, Clark received the following cablegram from Long:
“Proceed at once to West Indies without further stop Brazil. No authentic news the Spanish fleet. Avoid if possible. We believe that you will defeat it if met.”
The following evening, May 9th, U.S.S. Oregon set out for Bridgetown, Barbadoes, where she arrived in the morning of May 18. Oregon’s average speed from Bahia to Bridgetown was 11.73 knots. The Governor of the island immediately sent word that Oregon would be permitted to stay only for 24 hours. However, the American consul was permitted to cable Washington of Oregon’s arrival. At the same time, the Spanish consul cabled the same news to the Spanish Governor of Puerto Rico.
At 10 o’clock that same evening Oregon steamed out of the harbor after having received enough coal to make the last dash to the East Coast of the United States. Once well outside the Barbadoes U.S.S. Oregon set her course clear of the Virgin Islands, then off the Bahamas, and finally for the coast of Florida.
The successful voyage of U.S.S. Oregon ended on the night of May 24, when she dropped anchor at Jupiter Inlet. A boat hurried ashore with the following telegram to Secretary of Navy Long:
“Oregon arrived. Have coal enough to reach Dry Tortugas in 33 hours. Hampton
Roads in 52 hours. Boat landed through surf awaits answer.”
The reply was:
“If ship is in good condition and ready for service, go to Key West; otherwise, to Hampton Roads. The Department congratulates you upon your safe arrival, which has been announced to the President.”
Success!
The long arduous cruise was over. No— not yet! The grand finale was yet to come— the battle at Santiago de Cuba!
Arriving in Key West on May 26th, U.S.S. Oregon joined the forces of Rear Admiral William T. Sampson, USN, which successfully defeated the remainder of the Spanish fleet in Cuba on July 3, 1898.
The significance of Oregon’s race around the Latin-American continent was great. In the battle of Santiago the Oregon’s accurate firing inflicted heavy damage to the Spaniards, proving the value of conducting drills and target practice on long voyages at sea.
That the Oregon should be able to enter into a naval battle shortly after having steamed almost constantly for 14,700 miles at an average speed of 11.6 knots, and come out on the winning end, emphasizes the value of having a superior engineering gang and machinery, which the Oregon certainly did have.
Most of all, we must not forget how the trip helped broadcast, as nothing else could have, the necessity for an isthmian canal.
A native of Boston, Massachusetts, Mr. Foss enlisted in the Navy “to see the world” in 1937, and served on destroyers throughout the war, seeing convoy operations in the Atlantic and Caribbean and then continuous duty on the U.S.S. Foote from the Solomons to Okinawa. In 1947-48 a staff writer with All Hands magazine and rated a chief yeoman, Mr. Foss has taken up free-lance writing since his discharge in March, 1948.
START OF A PILGRIMAGE
Contributed by JAMES H. McCONNELL, former Lieutenant (Ch.C.)
U. S. Naval Reserve
The chaplain of the battalion of troops aboard our attack-transport, the U.S.S. Neville, was a fellow- priest, Father Jim Fleming. Together we had ministered to all hands, both my Navy crowd and his Army people. We reached our destination, the embattled coast of Sicily. It was early July, 1943, and the grand attack landing was in progress.
Padre Fleming and I finally came to the moment of parting. We had been together aboard the Neville for over a month, ever since leaving Newport News.
“Well,” he said, as we goodbye-Jimmed each other, “when you gotta go, you gotta go.”
He swung over the rail and prepared to climb down the net to the waiting boat.
“But I must say,” he announced as he started down the net, “that this is a fine way indeed for a priest to set off on his first visit to Rome and the Pope—as a member of an invading army."