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As our play testing of “Infernal Machine” continues apace, it is interesting to see how our teaching scenarios can be tinkered with to make sure they are providing much-needed information on game play and hints on strategy, as well as have some fun with the game system.

Scenario Ten has the Player fill the shoes of the Inventor, the “Man with the Dream”, who wants to design, build and then sail an Underwater Marvel of the Industrial Revolution, something that the newspapers have called a “fishboat.”

In the original Scenario Ten, the Player is a citizen of the Confederacy, who sees his fishboat as the means to drive off the Union Navy from the mouth of the Mississippi River.

I decided to see if we could work the scenario in reverse, and have the Union Navy under Admiral David G. Farragut send a ‘fishboat’ of their own up the Mississippi River to blow a hole in the obstructions that the Rebels had built to block the Yankee fleet in front of two fortifications protecting the lower River: Forts Jackson & St. Philip.

Here is what happened:

This time we are on the USA side at start, with our Machine Shop located in Boston, MA. 

(Our fishboat is to be constructed at said Machine Shop in Boston, then assigned and shipped to the US Navy’s West Gulf Squadron. They are currently anchored at the mouth of the Mississippi River known as Head of Passes, south of New Orleans. Once there, our fishboat will be ordered to conduct raids (via Towed Launch) on the Rebel defenses centered around “Big Muddy’s” forts “Jackson” & “Saint Philip.”

The Union Player’s time factor is the same as that of the Confederate’s. 

Union Adm. Farragut wants to see if “this new-fangled fishboat thingie” can help by raiding ships, clearing obstructions, destroying wharves and generally raising hell near the two forts. 

Failure means Farragut’s plan to take New Orleans will hit a snag. 

This won’t do Union General Benjamin “Beast” Butler’s short-fuse temper any good either The first image (see below) is at the end of Summer 1861, with hull built and Magnetic Engine installed, and an Air Lock next up for inclusion. This looks promising, with 2nd Mechanic converting a Journeyman to (Oh joy!) Sam Eakins of “Alligator” fame! Investments made on both Spring & Summer were middling. Autumn 1861 will have action beginning on Contract to keep funds flowing. Yep, Autumn ’61 is looking very interesting.

As I was running a previous playtest, I surmised that, if the Union Admiralty was less sold on traditional sailing warship practices and kept up with the advances being made through nautical engineering, they could have gotten out of the fishboat starting gate at the same time as Horace Hunley, James McClintock & Baxter Watson did in New Orleans. 

If so, then the best place in Yankee-dom for a civilian contractor wanting the most up-to-date technology, along with the mechanics and engineers to wield it would be Boston, Massachusetts. 

There were the Sciences and Engineering Departments at Harvard University, and also to the newly-founded (1861) Massachusetts Institute of Technology just next door to Harvard in the Cambridge suburb. 

MIT’s engineering wizards of the era were a marvelously rich source; the Inventor’s team would be up-to-date on all the latest technical advancements, and just might  be able to get their educated hands on a real engineering marvel: British physicist & inventor Michael Faraday’s battery-powered Magnetic Engine.  

The choice of an Air Lock as the fishboat’s primary weapons delivery system would be easy to obtain from any competent steamship chandlery down at Boston Harbor, and a reputable salvage operation would be a source for a salvage and demolition Diver with the proper credentials.

Two guidelines to follow when starting this scenario: 

1) Get a good Investor to start with. Mine is French émigré Brutus de Villeroi, a wealthy ex-French aristocrat, who is a naval designer, engineer and a self-described “Natural Genius.” 

(At least that is what he told the Immigration folks his occupation was upon his arrival in New York City.)

2) Make sure you are hiring a capable multi-Expertise gang of Mechanics. You will need at least 12 Expertise total between your Shop and your crew so you can install the Magnetic Engine as soon as possible.

My plan is to finish building and training by Winter, 1862. 

The fishboat and team will then deploy to the Gulf in Spring of 1862 where training missions and final tinkering occurs. 

This will leave the Summer of 1862 is the only season for any additional training, plus the all-important attack mission.

One more thing: you’ve got to make sure of your money. 

Once you’ve got that key Mechanism in hand, (Mine will be the Magnetic Engine), you are looking at adding the Prow and Stern, plus one or two Boat Sections, a Steering Linkage, Ballast Tank, Propeller and Hatch. 

Autumn 1861 is coming up. To scare up some ready cash, I plan to shift some Journeymen over to Contract work at that time, plus make another run at the Investment Table.

Hey, if it was easy being an Inventor of Fishboats, everybody would be one!

So here’s Autumn, 1861 where the “Spectre” (cool name, huh?) is being fitted out in Boston, MA. 

Of course, I hadn’t paid attention to the weather.  

In game terms, Boston in Autumn is little different from Boston in Winter, the only difference is that you still have a relatively active Machine Shop that brings in $7. In Winter, that Shop income plummets to $3. 

Autumn is also the season our Boston machine shop will “promote” a Journeyman to Mechanic. This got me Mechanic Lodner Philips who can, once per game, promote a Journeyman to Mechanic all on his own, which he will do in Winter of 1862.  

Praise the Autumn 1861 “Fortunes of War” table.

I rolled a 7 and got another Investor (instead of a Black Cube), one Professor Eben Horsford, currently on sabbatical from MIT who is Investing his grant money in our little fishboat project here. 

His initial stipend plus that of Prof. de Villeroi’s funded the purchase of two hatches, a set of keel weights, plus a propeller and its shroud.  

Fingers crossed, I should have enough for a steering linkage plus a snorkel and maybe a ballast/level tank pair. 

With Winter 1862 coming up,  Horsford and de Villeroi should “invest” a total of $15 as their “Holiday Gift” to the shop to bolster that meager $3 shop intake for the season. Despite there being only one Action this season, it has been a productive one for Project Spectre.

(Incidentally, I decided to drop the one season transfer cost for moving the completed fishboat from Boston to Head of Passes. Per the American Enterprise Institute, travel by steamship in 1857 between New York & New Orleans took just six days, with Boston to New York adding a half day steaming time.)

Thus, I have Spring, 1862 to complete building “Spectre” and deploy her to Head of Passes in Louisiana, leaving one Training mission and one Attack mission for Summer, 1862. 

This is a tight schedule. 

Each season’s Fortunes of War/Event could easily mess things up. 

Winter 1862 turn finds Mechanic Sam Eakins exercising his Special Ability to add a second Action for the season. He’s quite the motivator, that one! 

True to form Brutus de Villeroi & Professor Eben Horsford together add their $15 yearly benefit. 

While at Eakins’ party, Mechanic Lodner Phillips uses his Special Ability to convince de Villeroi’s wife Eulalie to replace a departing Journeyman, which results in Eulalie de Villeroi joining both the project and the crew!

Remember, these are Mechanics, not superstitious Sailors. 

Being French, de Villeroi is very proficient with pistol and saber. 

As is Eulalie! 

Winter, 1862’s first Action is an Investment Check of $5 

A dr of 8 yields not only a $10 return but adds Investor Augusta Price, who adds $40 more to the project’s treasury. 

This allows the crew to use the remaining Action to complete the “Spectre’s” mechanism manifest by adding a ballast tank combination, snorkel, periscope and gearbox. 

A cold February Saturday finds all hands present on the wharf at Boston Harbor as the “Spectre” is loaded onto the deck of the USS “Varuna.” 

With Investors Horsford and Price waving goodbye, “Spectre” and crew set out for Head of Passes, Louisiana and warmer climes.

[Caption: “Spectre’s” Gauges Board at the close of Winter 1862. The crew positions assigned by de Villeroi have him Steering, with Eakins & Lodner Phillips in reserve if needed. 

Log entry:

Acting Master Samuel V. Eakins, USS “Spectre.” 

17 February 1862 – Aboard U.S.S. “Varuna” – at Sea, off coast of Long Island, NY.

(At this point I will let excerpts from Master Eakins’ personal log book tell the story of the “Spectre” and her crew on their journey from Boston to the mouth of the Mississippi River.) 

-X-

We left Boston Harbor this morning about 10 o’clock. All passengers affiliated with the “Spectre” were assigned bunk space in officer’s quarters and had their gear stowed. The “Spectre” itself is currently tied down atop the central hold access gratings, lashed fore and aft between fore and mainmasts to prevent pitching during rough seas. 

Which we’ve had plenty of, as the ship’s captain, Commander Charles S. Boggs, is determined to set a record for the fastest passage between Boston and the Gulf. To that end, “Varuna” was bouncing off a heavy snow squall in Long Island Sound that forced Boggs to tack continuously across the wind, with only the foretop sails set to assist “Varuna’s” remarkably noisy steam engine. 

I’ve offered Boggs our mechanical assistance to help speed “Varuna” along. 

Boggs sniffed at me, stole a glance at “Spectre” gently rocking in her stays on the main deck, and spat a large brown stream of tobacco juice over the side. Apparently, Captain Boggs enjoys his tobacco in its natural state.

The storm is really kicking up a fuss, with winds in excess of 20 knots and seas of 10 to 15 feet and increasing the further south we go, which is bad news for my crew of landlubbers.

 Most of them are seasick, as is Madame de Villeroi who is being ministered to by the ship’s surgeon and de Villeroi himself. 

I’ve avoided the effects of “mal de mer” by placing a sliver of fresh-cut ginger root under my tongue. 

The “Varuna’s” helmsman, a garrulous Irishman named Reagan says we should be sailing out of the storm by the time we reach Cape May off New Jersey, 

” – an’ that be some-toyme ter-night,  Lord willing yore worship, sorr.” 

We will see.

Log entry 18 February 1862 – Aboard USS “Varuna” – at sea off Cape Hatteras, North Carolina.

It is late afternoon (“Six Bells of the Afternoon Watch.”) 

We’ve sailed out of yesterday’s snow storm and into a steady rain that has soaked through just about everything on board “Varuna”. 

Thankfully, we’ve not encountered the usual gales found here above the “Graveyard of the Atlantic,” but that may just be “Sailors Luck,” as the “Varuna’s” crew have it. Commander Boggs’ men are about as taciturn a gang of bluejackets as their skipper. 

Though they are professional seamen, to a man they do have a sailor’s curiosity about “new-fangled equipment” and were very curious about “Jus’ whut be thet thang lashed down on th’ Main be, sorr?” 

I’ve told my team to be friendly but not informative to the sailors about “Spectre.” The ship’s officers are another matter, and de Villeroi and I will be discussing where we are heading exactly, and when will we get there? 

Before we left, the telegraph had brought news of Admiral Farragut’s West Gulf Squadron departing Pensacola for Head of Passes, which means he and the Squadron should be there by tomorrow afternoon. 

The clock is ticking on our little venture.

Log entry, 19 February 1862 – USS “Varuna” – at Sea off St. Augustine, Florida.

We are making good time on our journey to Head of Passes. As we sailed past Flag Officer DuPont’s South Atlantic Blockade Squadron off Savannah, a US Navy cutter hailed us, then came along side “Varuna” and delivered the mail and a communique from Flag Officer DuPont, who wished us “…good luck in your endeavor, and death to the Rebels, every one!” 

Commander Boggs read the communique to the ship’s crew, and to our crew as well. It got the usual response of sniffs, coughs and suppressed chuckling from the swabbies at the back of the gathering. Boggs glared back at those assembled but said nothing, then pulled his hat down in front and stalked off to his cabin.  

Seems our crew of jolly tars have several among them “from Maryland,” which means they are Southern by birth; not necessarily “from Maryland” but still loyal to the Union, as far as that goes. 

Serving on “Varuna” is Master’s Mate Henrik Schenderhans, a likeable Dutchman from Hoorn in Holland. 

Henrik (he prefers this “familiarity” over my stumbling over his last name all the time) says that “Dis regionalz grumblin’ vill schtop!” as soon as “Varuna” joins Farragut on the Mississippi. 

The meeting with Boggs’ officers over dinner last night was a frost. 

None of them saw any advantage in sneaking up on the Rebels, blowing things up, then sneaking away again. 

If sneaking means you get home with an undamaged fishboat and an uninjured crew, then I’ll have a double-helping of “Sneaking” and keep it coming, thank you very much.

Log entry, 20 February 1862 – USS “Varuna” – at Sea off Tampa, Florida.

We entered the Gulf of Mexico sometime last night, leaving cold, rainy and snowy weather behind for the balmy sun-soaked breezes of the Caribbean at about Six Bells in the Forenoon Watch (10:30 am). 

Because of high winds in the Straits of Florida, we had to hug the coast, which brought us past Fort Jefferson to starboard. If there is any place more remote and forlorn than the Dry Tortugas islands, I don’t know of it. 

God help the men who are building this monster way out here in the middle of the ocean, and it being all brick and masonry for the most part. 

The February sun beating down was hot enough on board to have sailor and crew stripped to the waist for comfort. 

Poor Eulalie, being a lady, could not partake, though she did strip down to her chemise and a skirt and sported a parasol while on deck. 

We should be off Mobile, Alabama soon, perhaps by tomorrow. 

The next day should find us at Head of Passes, where our work really begins.

Log entry, 21 February 1862 – USS “Varuna” – at Sea off Mobile, Alabama.

Early this morning at Six Bells in the Morning Watch (6:30 am), we joined the Navy’s West Gulf Squadron off Ship Island, Mississippi. 

Commander Boggs went ashore to report. 

The harbor master at Ship Island promptly told Commander Boggs to get back on “Varuna” and “report to Admiral Farragut at Head of Passes. Now, Commander!” 

Boggs did just that, and has driven his crew like John Paul Jones with a wasp in his pants; telling his engineers and stokers to make all steam possible and the navigation officer to plot the fastest course to the mouth of the Mississippi, “Because I mean to beat Farragut there or know the reason why!” 

de Villeroi and the rest of us are busy attending to “Spectre,” getting her ready for her debut tomorrow on “Big Muddy.”

Log entry, 22 February 1862 – Head of Passes, Louisiana.

This will have to be short, as we are casting off on our first training mission. 

A while ago, Commander Boggs mustered the Spectre” crew on the aft deck and addressed us. 

In his gruff manner, Boggs complimented us on our skills, our perseverance and our bravery, and said “that we could ship with him anytime we asked to.”    

There’s been some argument between de Villeroi, Philips and myself over who will be at the helm of “Spectre”. 

de Villeroi won the toss, darn his luck…

… and there’s Philips blowing his bosun’s whistle, which means we are about to get underway. 

Faraday’s Engine has been tuned up, and that gearbox we got from Robert Stephenson has been quietly whirring away in its machine oil coating in anticipation of the trip we will be making. 

I’ve also had a word with our Diver. Signor Stefano Rojas knows the Air Lock’s operation, both out and in. 

We are as ready as we will ever be!

-End of excerpt-

-X-

Turn 5 – Spring 1862 – 

After settling an argument on the merits of Union General Hunter’s emancipating the Carolina Sea Island slaves, (-$1 to the Pilot Town Tavern’s keeper for breakage) “Spectre’s” crew began its first training mission, sailing up the Mississippi past Tripod, then past Alligator Station and Northeast Point, then returned to Head of Passes, both “Spectre” and crew passing their first sea trial. 

In the process they repaired a snag-clogged propeller shroud at send-off. 

Next, “Spectre” passed Alligator Station while surfaced.

de Villeroi then ordered “Spectre” to be crash-dived thru Awash depth to Below Shallow on her first dive to show that the Ballast/Level system worked as he had designed  it to. He then ordered “Spectre” back to the surface and sailed home to Head of Passes.

With a total of four black cubes against one red cube earned on this mission, “Spectre’s” success attracted a new Investor (per Rule Book p. 43), and Russell Sturgis joins the team, adding $15 to the treasury (that is now at $52). 

Sturgis’ Special Ability is to bring another Investor on once per game. 

On being informed by de Villeroi of the success of this first training mission, Admiral Farragut ordered another training mission forthwith.

“Spectre’s” second training mission had Northeast Point as its goal. 

Almost from the start, equipment began to malfunction. 

First, the Gearbox began acting up. 

Next the Steering Linkage locked, but Eulalie de Villeroi was there with her toolbox and repaired it while dodging her husband’s feet at the helm. 

At Alligator Station, a seal in the forward Ballast tank ruptured which submerged “Spectre” to Awash depth (and caused Lodner Philips to Panic), before Eulalie got that Malfunction repaired. 

Entering Northeast Point, de Villeroi ordered a descent to Below Shallow. At that point the gearbox began to Malfunction again, this time dropping the Power Grade from “A” to “B”. de Villeroi immediately surfaced the boat, reversed course and headed back downriver to Head of Passes. 

Arriving there, the “Spectre” got caught in a current drift and sprung a leak in an aft hull seam. Recovery was uneventful, with repairs being needed on the gearbox and an aft hull seam.

Back alongside USS “Varuna” that was now serving as tender for “Spectre,” de Villeroi and Eakins determined that the aft-section Leak was caused by an impact to the Shroud’s support framing that had cracked through into the lower propeller mount, and then carried along the lower hull seam for about a foot and a half. Fortunately, de Villeroi had requested that the “Varuna” be fitted with a forge and metalworking shop, whose machinists and shipwrights joined “Spectre’s” crew in lifting and positioning “Spectre” on “Varuna’s” main deck to repair the aft hull leak. As for the jammed gearbox, mechanic J.B. Morrell discovered that the clutch mechanism responsible for changing gear speed had broken a tooth in its cog, which caused the jam. Morrell and Lodner Philips got busy fashioning a new clutch gear for the mechanism. 

Spring slowly changing to Summer found that repairs to “Spectre” had been completed satisfactorily.  

An examination by de Villeroi, Eakins and the assembled mechanics declared the “Spectre” fit for duty. 

As the “Varuna’s” launch carried de Villeroi and Eakins and their good news to USS “Hartford,” (Admiral Farragut’s flagship) the West Gulf Squadron’s mortar schooner fleet opened a thunderous barrage upon the Rebel forts ”Jackson” and “St. Philip.” 

In the din, Eakins leaned over, tapped de Villeroi on the leg and pointed back towards “Varuna.” 

de Villeroi turned just in time to see the “Spectre” being swung over “Varuna’s” starboard side and lowered into the Mississippi. 

Turning to look back at Eakins, de Villeroi realized that “Spectre’s” and their time to act had just gotten significantly shorter.

And so, to war. 

“Spectre” departed the fleet anchorage to the cheers of the sailors on board USS “Varuna.” 

de Villeroi, standing in the fore and aft hatches took the cheers, doffing his hat as “Spectre” passed under “Old Glory” on the stern of USS “Hartford.” 

His hat tip was returned by both Admiral Farragut, Commander Boggs.  

Steering for the westernmost bank of the “Big Muddy,” de Villeroi ordered half speed on the Faraday Engine, to which Mechanic Lodner Philips complied. de Villeroi chose his course well, staying in the calmer shore current as “Spectre” passed the old semaphore “Tripod” on the eastern river bank. Alligator Station also proved to be a calm passage, the Faraday humming along as fresh air whistled through the open hatches. A solid blanket of clouds kept Ol’ Man Moon from an unwanted appearance, while the wind gusts tested de Villeroi’s steering ability. Northeast Point saw the first malfunction, being a ballast pump valve stuck open, diving the “Spectre” from Surface to Awash.  Eulalie de Villeroi assisted Acting Master Sam Eakins in freeing up, replacing the defective ballast pump valve and then surfacing the “Spectre” once more. Rounding the bend just south of The Jump, Lodner Philips spotted some watch fires ahead, whereupon de Villeroi had Eakins crash dive the boat to Below Shallow to avoid detection.

de Villeroi kept the “Spectre’s” bow pointed into the river’s current as it slowly passed the old Salt Works factory. 

At this point the Faraday Engine decided to kick up a fuss. 

Though making a racket (and panicking Lodner Philips) it was still capable of forward motion at the current Easy pace, but needed fixing should de Villeroi need flank speed at any point in the journey. 

With Lodner cowering behind the Leveling Tank it was up to J.B. Morrell and Eulalie de Villeroi teaming up to effect repairs. 

After several tentative crackles and a whiff of ozone, the Faraday recovered its comfortable hum. As they approached Beaver Station, de Villeroi told the rest of the crew that “Spectre’s” mission was to blow a hole in the submerged river obstructions near the eastern shore of the river. 

Raising the boat from Below Shallow to Awash enabled de Villeroi to use the periscope to confirm that “Spectre” had arrived in the right place. 

de Villeroi ordered Eakins to dive the boat back to Below Shallow, and to get Diver Stefano Rojas ready for duty.

Lugging his demolition torpedo, Diver Rojas exited “Spectre’s” Air Lock. 

J.B. Morrell and Eulalie both kept an eye on the Faraday Engine at this crucial moment of the mission. 

Rojas’ journey to his target was slowed by the inevitable silting up that the Mississippi had “dusted” the fascines and “dragon’s teeth.” 

Uncovering a pre-existing Rebel-made passage through the line of Obstructions, Rojas placed the Large Charge on the left side base of the obstructions. 

Upon detonation, the charge would widen the Rebel’s current passage, and the stronger river current would carry additional debris of the explosion downstream, making the breach even wider.  

Once set, Diver Rojas carefully returned to the “Spectre’s” Air Lock and climbed inside, cycling the water-filled Air Lock and replacing it with air. 

Rojas hooked the charge’s insulated electrical wires to a bank of Leyden Jar batteries, then climbed through the Air Lock access hatch and into the main cabin. At a nod from Rojas, Eakins threw a nearby switch. 

A most satisfying “THUMP!” resulted, that was not only heard but felt through the hull. Success!

Image 9: (Tactical Board)[caption: The demolition charge destroys the Obstructions.]

“Let’s get out of here,” bellowed Eakins, as de Villeroi executed a classic pirouette that reversed “Spectre’s” course heading to downstream and home. 

Instead of skulking along in the shallows to avoid the worst of the Mississippi’s current, de Villeroi now swung “Spectre” into the main channel, letting Big Muddy take the strain of travel while the Faraday engine was recharging the Leyden Jars. Double the number of watch fires now burned on both banks of the Mississippi, while picket boats swarmed like angry hornets on the river’s surface.

But “Spectre” lived up to her name, ghosting along safe in the rivers depths. 

As “Spectre” passed opposite Northeast Point, a mid-evening fog bank rolled in which further hampered Confederate pursuit –

Image 10: (Mission Board) [caption: “Spectre” passes Northeast Point as the Fog rolls in.]

When “Spectre” arrived back at Head of Passes, the Faraday Engine conked out again just as “Spectre” pulled alongside USS “Varuna.” 

As de Villeroi opened the forward hatch, a sailor on “Varuna’s” fo’csle hollered “How was yer huntin,’ boys?” 

Standing in the aft hatch, Lodner Philips reached down, pulled a broom out and waved it energetically over his head: a “clean sweep!”

The “Varuna’s” crew erupted in cheers, and Commander Boggs ordering a signal gun fired to alert Admiral Farragut of “Spectre’s” safe arrival. 

Sighing, de Villeroi pulled a cigar from his vest pocket. 

Lighting it up, he took a long drag of Havana tobacco smoke and permitted himself a rare smile.  

Looking down through the hatch he saw his wife Eulalie looking up at him.

Eulalie was smiling, too.

May, 1862. 

Having visited the White House and been feted by President Lincoln and Washington society, the de Villeroi’s were taking the train back to their Machine Shop in Boston, Massachusetts. 

The destruction of the Confederate river barriers below Forts Jackson & St. Philip allowed Farragut’s fleet to sail virtually unchecked past those two old piles of now-smoldering masonry.

The massive Confederate ironclad CSS “Louisiana” took a close-in pounding from the West Gulf Squadron and was last seen, adrift and on fire from stem to stern, floating downriver to the Gulf of Mexico, together with the wrecked remnants of the Rebel river fleet.   

Upon a unanimous vote by the city council, New Orleans was declared an “Open City.” The councilmen then fled upriver to the state capital at Baton Rouge.

Union General Benjamin Butler and his soldiers were received by the now-leaderless Crescent City with something less than open arms. 

Though there were still a number of firebrands calling for guerilla and urban warfare, most of the populace shrugged their collective shoulders and got on with life.

On de Villeroi’s recommendation, Acting Master Samuel Eakins was inducted into the US Navy and promoted to the rank of Lieutenant. 

de Villeroi’s crew all returned to the Washington Navy Yard as contracted civilian Mechanics in the Navy’s newly-created Bureau for Underwater Research.

And they all lived (those that survived the war, at least) happily ever after.

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