Chapter fifteen
Three days later, off New InletThe two officers aboard the cruising gunboat USS Connecticut thought they caught sight of a man-made object outlined against the Atlantic beach.
“What does it look like to you?” Captain Carlisle asked Commander Stephen Farley. Carlisle wiped his brow and gave the telescope to his first mate. It was a warm and sticky night with no moon. He dreaded these Carolina summers.
Farley looked through the eyepiece for about ten seconds, methodically checking the shore. Sure enough, there she was, the pilot house and bow of a ship at anchor peeking through the mist, six or seven hundred yards off port. He couldn’t see any smokestacks or masts, which were undoubtedly lowered to prevent being spotted.
“She’s a blockade runner,” Farley said, excitedly.
