The anchor was yanked up and guided into place on its chocks in a hurry, and soon the "Yankee" was under way and headed southward.

As we passed the "Columbia," the men of both ships stood at attention, feet together, hands at the side, heads up, silent.

So a ship is saluted in the United States Navy, a ceremony dignified and impressive, though not as soul-stirring as the American cheer.
The "Scuttle Butt Navigators," or, as the "Yankee" boys called them, the Rumor Committee, were very busy that bright day in May.

According to them we were to sail seaward and discover Cervera's fleet, the whereabouts of which was then unknown.

We were to sail south and bombard Havana.