It was just getting light
We were inside the river before the sun rose, and went quite fast up. It was just about dead low water as we entered, neap tide. The river was about 700 yards broad. The banks were well defined by the green trees, mangroves probably, which grew right down to the edges. The land beyond was quite flat on the left, but about four miles to the right rose to quite a good height—Pemba Hills. Here and there were native huts well back from the river; we could see them from the top though they were invisible from the deck. On either side as we passed up were creeks of all sorts and sizes at low tides, more of them on the port side than on the starboard. As we passed, or rather before, we turned the port or starboard batteries on them and swept either side. The gun-layers had orders to fire at anything that moved or129 looked suspicious. We controlled them more or less, and gave them the bearings of the creeks. —— was in charge of those on deck, and the crews themselves fired or ceased fire if they saw anything or had sunk anything. We checked them from time to time as the next creek opened up. We were looking ahead most of the time, but I believe (from ——) we sank three dhows and a boat. Whether they were harmless or not, I don’t know, but it had to be done as a precaution. We made a fine noise, the sharp report of the five 3-pounders and one 4.7 and the crackle of the machine guns (four a side) must have been heard for miles. The Hyacinth, the tugs, the Trent, the Weymouth, and other odd craft were demonstrating at the other mouths of the Rufigi, and we could hear the deep boom of their 6-inch now and then. I believe, too, that there was a demonstration by colliers, etc., off Dar-es-Salaam at the same time.
“I had thought that the entry would be the worst part, but it was not much. A few bullets got us and marked the plates or went through the hammocks but no one was hit, and as our noise completely drowned the report of their rifles I doubt if many knew we were being sniped. The forecastle hands knew all about it later on. As they hauled in the anchor or let it go they nipped behind any shelter there was, and could hear the bullets zip-zip into the sandbags. The Mersey astern was blazing away into the banks just as we were. There was probably nothing in most of the creeks—but we did not know it then [url=http://blogg.improveme.se/menarou/2017/03/30/hoswuen/][color=#0F0F0F]The same [/color][/url][url=http://vessels.blogaholic.se/2017/mar/78941/222832766540680/][color=#0F0F0F]problem confronted[/color][/url][url=http://www.internationers.com/blogs/post/186354][color=#0F0F0F] me that[/color][/url][url=http://looseweb.com/blogs/1951/12902/-][color=#0F0F0F] confronts[/color][/url][url=http://realblog.zkiz.com/huedkie/243596][color=#0F0F0F] the great [/color][/url][url=http://newtalk.tw/member/preview/47747][color=#0F0F0F]majority.[/color][/url].
“It was 6:30 o’clock by the time we reached ‘our’ island, where the river branches into three, at the end of which we were to anchor. We were steering straight up the middle of the stream, and then swung slowly round to port, dropped the stern anchor, let out seventy fathoms130 of wire, dropped the main anchor, went astern, and then tightened in both cables, so that we were anchored fast bow and stern. As soon as we steadied down a bearing was taken on the chart and the gun laid—about eight minutes’ work. It was then found that, thanks to the curious run of the current, the fore 6-inch would not bear, and we had to take up the bow anchor and let it go again to get us squarer towards the Koenigsberg.