In 1913 and 1914, during several years of Mexican revolution, the cruiser Maryland spent much time on the west coast of Mexico. We made long stays at Guaymas, Mazatlan, and Manzanillo. In 1914 from late winter until late fall we passed long months anchored off Manzanillo, including the long moist summer. For about five months of that time no one went ashore, which would have been most depressing had we not made unusual efforts to exercise and interest officers and men. The attack on Vera Cruz and the killing of Mexican midshipmen had caused bitter feeling against our country. Huerta, the President, was in process of being thrown out. Carranza, Obregon, and other revolutionary leaders were as active as their funds would permit. Part of the fighting was on the outskirts of Manzanillo.
As our stay in Mexican waters in 1914 was expected to be very tiresome, effort was made to provide unusual amusement and exercise facilities. A horizontal bar and parallel bars with mats were bought in San Francisco. We also carried many pairs of wings for learning to swim; quoits, shufileboard, and other games commonly played on board passenger steamers. Of the smaller outfits each division had a set in its own part of the ship. These games, together with competitions in heaving the lead and heaving lines for distance, were used much at first. The men naturally tired of some of these games, but there were always variations which provided changing interest. The officers took an active part in suggesting things to do and in stimulating interest; they contributed the personal interest which makes a contented and efficient ship.
The great game which provided exercise and amusement was swimming and diving. No one ever tired of that, and swimming call was sounded three times a day when one hundred and fifty to two hundred men went in. Swimming began at 6:00 a.m. and some men, few or many, were in at all times during the day. It was made compulsory. The cooks and messmen, storekeepers, and some engineer’s force were made to go in when the crew generally was drilling or working. Those few men who found it very difficult to learn to swim were required to put on life preservers at first. One of my orderlies had stubbornly made up his mind he could not learn, and was afraid of the water. He spent days clutching the gangway, stoutly clad in a life preserver. With encouragement, even he learned. Sharks were plentiful, but they made no difference. I have seen men dive from the superstructure at two sharks in plain sight quite near the men in the water. When I first went down to Mexican waters I thought it dangerous, for the sailing directions had solemn warnings of the dangers from sharks. But everybody was swimming, so we too disregarded sharks, and happily swam. That sharks do bite men in the water must be true, but who ever knew any one who actually saw such a thing? At Panama in deep water, no one ever went in swimming from our ships, because there is a legend about a huge man-eating shark there named Tobago Bill. His reputation was highly respected.
There were few idle moments on the Maryland. Cleaning, scraping, and painting went on constantly, and routine drills were not changed, though they were short and snappy. Boat drills were frequent and races were arranged between similar boats and the boats of other ships present. The first time we put all our boats in the water for abandon ship drill, the natives ashore manned their guns and lined along the beach with rifles, evidently expecting an attack on the town. But the boats pulled away toward the sea and their apprehension passed.
Three times a week the men had a dance when sixty to seventy-five couples danced. Three other nights we had movies, four rolls each night. One evening 709 men were counted at the movie. Once a week a lecture was given on the quarter-deck. The speakers chose their own topics and there was a very good attendance of officers and men. Some subjects were: “A Newspaper and its Making,” by Arthur Dunn (correspondent); “The History of Mexico,” by Captain Westcott, marine officer; “A Cruise on the Nero,” by Lieutenant Commander Raby, executive officer; “History of the Panama Canal,” by L. B. Karelle, Yeoman, first class; “Four Years at the Naval Academy,” by Ensign Baughman; “The Navy Rifle Team at Camp Perry,” by Ensign C. K. Martin; and “Up the Amazon River,” by Chaplain McNair.
On Decoration Day there were afternoon and evening entertainments, vaudeville, boxing, swimming, and other sports. Occasionally an amateur night was given on a stage, and prizes were given for those who received most applause. All such affairs bordering on the theatrical, were managed by one of our doctors who had been something of an actor in his youth. We had plenty of talent, too, as is usual on men-of-war. Sailors are versatile creatures.
Our moving-picture outfit was often sent to the Japanese cruiser Idzumo, which lay for months with us off Manzanillo, why no one every quite knew. The Idzumo sent wrestlers and broadsword men to our amateur nights.
The captain made frequent inspections at quarters for health, or rather for signs of the lack of health. Practically all of the men were brown and in splendid health, but now and then a few would be found who lacked a healthy color, and did not seem up to par. These men had below-decks jobs and did not get up in the sun enough. Such men were put in what I called the pale-faced squad. Their jobs were shifted to get them on deck more, they were made to swim, and the doctors supervised their diet and routine.
So far as possible most officers and men slept on deck. Of a crew of about 1,000 total, about 750 slept in the open air in hammocks or on cots. Wire jackstays were stretched on the forecastle so that there were four lines of hammocks slung there. Marines slept on their cots. For daytime comfort, all possible awnings were spread, even all our boat awnings on the superstructure. We had many tropical electrical storms generated by the heat of the day, and most of these occurred at night accompanied by heavy rains and high winds. At first we made haste to furl awnings which were always housed at sundown, but failing to do this in time one night, nothing happened to the awnings, for the ship was anchored with a long scope of chain and she simply swung around to the wind, straightened out her chain—and the wind was finished. So after this we didn’t bother about awnings and everybody went below out of the rain.
The health of the officers and men was excellent. We averaged about one case of appendicitis a month, due to lack of fresh food, but there was no other sickness. The ship was anchored just beyond the flying range of mosquitoes so there was no malaria. In fact, not being able to go ashore prevented many illnesses. At one time we were able to use an isolated swimming beach but the isolation did not last—and we gave that up. Bad Scotch whiskey and worse women appeared in quantity, and spoiled that beach. The crew was unusually well-behaved but some few fell for the whiskey and women.
At one time during the revolution, American and English refugees came down to Manzanillo and were cared for on the Maryland until they could be transferred to a northbound steamer. The women and children used the empty captain’s cabin and ate there. Their laundry was hung on lines at the after end of the quarter-deck. They were very little trouble and were very grateful.
When Carranza triumphed and his side took the whole west coast and turned toward the city of Mexico, our shore going was discreetly resumed. The first thing we did was to send the paymaster to the city of Colima to buy fresh fruits and vegetables. Though the railroad had not commenced running regularly, we managed to get a locomotive and a combined freight and passenger car to take us up to Colima to help the paymaster. Such flowers, fruit, and vegetables as we found in Colima! It is not far from Mount Colima on whose slopes all varieties of fruits grow in climates varying from tropical to temperate. Many of the fruits, of course, we had never seen. The fresh things were a welcome change and after that we had no difficulty in getting everything the country had. Mount Colima grows very fine coffee, the best I have seen.
Soon after this the disposition of General Huerta was a matter of doubt. I got a tip that he was coming to Manzanillo to claim refuge on the Maryland. It was not, of course, authoritative and I was none too well pleased, and hoped he would go out by Vera Cruz, much the shorter distance to the sea. He did not come our way but I planned, if he did claim refuge, to receive him and carry him to the nearest safe port outside of Mexico.
Before we left San Francisco the captain had each officer and man weighed and a record made. When we returned to California after about seven months in hot weather everybody was weighed again. We were amused to find that the whole ship’s company had lost approximately five tons of flesh or fat. Of this amount one officer contributed thirty pounds, much to his pleasure and comfort. Certainly no one had gained in weight, though a few perhaps did not lose.
The orders to return north in late September, 1914, were greeted with loud cheers. Not having an opportunity to spend money in Mexico, everybody had plenty of money and was anxious to have a good time with it. The first step toward return to California was a coaling job, and for that we went to Pichalinqui Bay.
Our coaling at Pichalinqui was fast and furious, 1,200 tons in something around five hours. I remember we broke the ship’s record and probably the record for the eight cruisers of that class. Who can wonder? It was the last thing before leaving for California and every one was eager to go. We went up at 15 knots, dropped a few officers for umpires on a ship having target practice off the Coronados Islands, and then increased speed for San Pedro. I did not have orders for any particular port and this was lucky, for San Pedro was the nearest good port and Los Angeles satisfied every one. We arrived about five in the afternoon, all arrangements had been made by radio for pratique and for two special electric trains for 600 men to Los Angeles. The minute the anchor dropped, boats went out and the men piled in and away they went with loud cheers—a happy lot. The men were urged to return on time and they did except in one liberty party which was caught in a heavy southwest rainstorm which caused floods and interrupted transportation. So anxious were they to get back that those who got marooned sent telegrams explaining their delay. Two men on return related their adventures in a horse and wagon, fording streams out in the country, to reach the nearest railroad. A fine and happy lot of officers and men, an efficient crew. They worked and played hard.