Wind Rises in North America 1625

Chapter 566 Blockade (Part 3)

"Raise the battle flag!"

"All warships deploy in battle formation, with the flagship 'Verax' at the core, forming an attack line!"

"Fight for the King, for our glory!"

"God is with us!"

The order from Vice Admiral Ovinella, commander of the Spanish task force, was like a bolt of lightning, instantly shattering the dullness and weariness above the fleet.

The mournful battle horns replaced the listless chimes, and tattered flags were struggled to the masttops, despite their disheveled appearance in the wind.

Sailors and soldiers struggled to their feet from every corner of the deck and staggered toward their battle stations.

However, the long journey and illness had taken a toll on the sailors' energy, and although their movements were firm and powerful, they were inevitably a little slow and disorganized.

Oh God, this encounter came so suddenly.

The sudden engagement was clearly unexpected by everyone.

Exhaustion, illness, anxiety, and a hint of unknown fear were eroding their remaining courage.

The officers' kicking and shouting echoed on the deck, but could not quickly dispel the sluggishness and helplessness that permeated the fleet.

Aren't we about to arrive at Compsescion soon for a short rest and recovery?

What? The fleet of Xinhua people is actually waiting for us here!

At that moment, a prevailing northwest wind was blowing, and the other side was moving very fast with the wind. In a short time, the distance between the two sides was reduced to less than a mile.

After a long voyage, their own fleet was covered with seaweed and barnacles on its hulls, like heavily laden oxen, and it was too late to turn around and evade.

retreat?

Exposing one's vulnerable flanks and tail to a pursuing enemy with the wind at one's back is tantamount to suicide.

Now, the only way to turn the tide is to fight back fiercely and carve a bloody path to reach the port of Compseccion ahead.

As a seasoned veteran, Ovinella quickly adjusted his emotions and made the most effective decision.

He knew that any hesitation at this moment would lead to the complete collapse of the entire fleet.

When paths cross, only the brave can find a glimmer of hope!
He had to believe in the strength of the Spanish warships and their advantage in boarding and close-quarters combat, which had been the guarantee of their naval victories over the past century.

The Spanish fleet began to turn clumsily, attempting to flank the enemy attacking from the north.

Fifteen warships—the only remaining supply ship, the "Paral," was ordered to hold back, waiting for the main fleet to break through the battle line—like a clumsy herd of bison, drawing messy and slow tracks on the sea.

Many ships found turning particularly difficult because their masts and rigging were damaged in the strait.

The Santa Clara, Allegretto, and San Javier lagged far behind, their mainmasts creaking and groaning in the strong crosswinds, as if they might break at any moment.

Meanwhile, the Xinhua Fleet in the north was rapidly approaching, taking advantage of the northwest wind.

Their formation was clear and crisp, with the six leading warships arranged in a graceful single column (line), like a drawn sword pointing directly at the center of the Spanish fleet.

The eight ships behind formed another giant sword, also arranged in a single column, seemingly waiting for an opportunity to "finish off" the Spanish task force.

Major Martinez, holding up his binoculars, said in a trembling voice of disbelief, “General… their ships… are so fast! And they’re lined up in a single file, so each ship’s firepower can only be effectively used on one side?”

Ovinella also noticed the formation the fleet had deployed, but he was more concerned about the rapidly closing distance between the two sides.

"Don't be fooled by appearances! They might be trying to concentrate their firepower and pick them off one by one. Order all ships to hold their ground and await my command to fire a volley! Infantry, prepare your muskets and boarding axes! We'll try to drag them into boarding action as soon as possible!"

He judged that as long as he could withstand the first wave of the enemy's attack, he could turn the tide in hand-to-hand combat by taking advantage of the relatively tall superstructures of the Spanish warships and the large number of infantrymen.

This is the secret to the Spanish Navy's victory over the past century.

However, the Xinhua Navy did not give him that opportunity.

When the distance between the two sides was reduced to about one-tenth of a league (about 500 meters), a shocking scene unfolded.

The six warships of Xinhua's vanguard fleet suddenly turned while maintaining high speed.

They gracefully drew an arc, slanting towards the port side of the Spanish fleet, aligning their full sides with the Spanish fleet, which was still adjusting its formation.

Although this distance is within the effective range of our own artillery, it is simply impossible to accurately hit the target while the ship is moving and the waves are rolling.

"What are they trying to do? Are they planning to fire at us from this distance?" a Spanish captain shouted in bewilderment.

His question was quickly answered.

The gun ports on the sides of the six Xinhua warships were all opened, revealing rows of dark cannon muzzles.

Immediately afterwards, as the two sides closed to 300 meters, flashes of fire appeared continuously, and the thunderous sound of cannons could be heard clearly. White smoke instantly enveloped the other ship's side.

Dozens of shells whistled across the sea, most of them landing in the waters around the Spanish fleet, creating tall columns of water.

However, two shells still hit the target accurately!
The bow of one Spanish warship was smashed to pieces, and the foremast sail of another was torn open with a large hole.

"My God! Their artillery is... so accurate?!" Major Martinez exclaimed in disbelief.

Although the accuracy at this distance is not high, the range advantage demonstrated has already instilled fear in the Spanish.

Ovinella's heart sank.

He realized that the other side had no intention of engaging them in a traditional melee, but rather intended to use their range and mobility to tear them apart little by little from a distance.

"Speed ​​up! Get closer, no matter what! Close the distance!" he commanded hoarsely.

The Spanish fleet billowed all the sails available, like a group of heavily armored knights staggering along, charging toward their agile adversaries.

However, due to headwinds, heavy hulls, and fatigued (or short) crew, their speed was far slower than their opponents.

After completing its first salvo, the first detachment of the Xinhua Fleet did not linger in battle. Instead, it immediately used the wind to maneuver to the side and rear, maintaining a relatively safe distance from the Spanish fleet.

Just as the Spanish attention was drawn to these six ships, the second detachment of the Xinhua Fleet, consisting of eight warships that had originally lagged behind, began to flank them from the other side, forming a deadly column and launching another volley of fire, much like infantry volleys.

The battle, which had only been going on for a short time, seemed to have turned into a one-sided hunt.

Xinhua's two detachments, like two flexible whips, made full use of their maneuverability and speed to alternately "whip" the Spanish fleet on its sides.

They maintained a medium to long range, using the range and accuracy of their artillery to continuously hurl scorching iron balls at the Spanish warships.

"Boom! Boom! Boom!" The continuous sound of cannon fire contrasted sharply with the sporadic and chaotic counterattacks from the Spanish fleet.

Xinhua's artillery fire was incredibly fast. Often, after a Spanish warship had just been hit by a salvo, before it could even catch its breath from the smoke and sawdust, another volley of shells would be whistling in.

The flagship "Verax", where Ovinella was stationed, became a key target of attention.

A heavy solid shot pierced the side, carving a bloody path through the crowded lower deck, accompanied by the sickening crack of splintering wood and the agonizing screams of soldiers and sailors.

Another shell severed a vital cable to the stern, causing the massive sail to droop and severely impairing the ship's maneuverability.

"Hard to port! Get closer to that lead enemy ship!" Ovinila pointed at a Xinhua cruiser that had just completed a round of firing, his eyes bloodshot.

He realized that it appeared to be the enemy's vanguard command ship and was determined to take it down at any cost.

The Veracruz struggled to turn, and the Spanish infantry on deck had already raised their muskets and boarding hooks, preparing for their familiar boarding maneuvers.

Several brave soldiers even clung to the ship's railing, shouting encouragement.

However, the captain of the Xinhua patrol ship seemed to have anticipated this.

Just as the "Verax" had finally closed the distance to less than half a chain (about 100 meters), and the infantry could already see the faces of the sailors on the other ship's hull, the Xinhua patrol ship's side gun ports spewed flames again.

But this time, it's not a solid shot!

Amidst the deafening roar, countless shrapnel and scorching nails rained down on the deck of the "Veracus".

The Spanish infantrymen who were about to board the ship fell in large numbers, their screams echoing throughout the battlefield.

The mast, canvas, and cables were riddled with holes.

Blood flowed like a river on the deck, resembling hell.

At the same time, the Xinhua patrol ship, with its agile hull, used the recoil from the salvo to gracefully retreat, while the sailors worked hard to adjust the sails, and the ship quickly accelerated, once again widening the distance between itself and the "Veracus".

The entire movement was fluid and graceful, like a meticulously choreographed court dance.

Ovinella, clutching her bleeding forehead scraped by splinters of wood, watched helplessly as her prey slipped through her fingers, her heart filled with powerlessness and anger.

His prized boarding maneuver proved clumsy and ineffective in the face of the enemy's superior speed, range, and tactical discipline.

The naval battle had been going on for more than two hours, and the Spanish fleet was completely on the defensive.

Many warships were badly damaged, their sails were severely torn, and their speed was further reduced.

Because of its slow movement, the Santa Clara was attacked by at least two Xinhua warships. Several large holes were torn near the waterline, and seawater rushed in. The ship began to list noticeably, and the surviving crew members jumped into the sea to save themselves.

The San Pedro was unfortunately hit in its ammunition magazine, broke in two in a violent explosion, and sank rapidly, leaving only a huge whirlpool and floating debris on the sea.

The Xinhua Fleet, like a pack of experienced wolves, constantly roamed the perimeter, tearing at the enemy while suffering minimal losses themselves. Their shells seemed inexhaustible, precisely and efficiently eroding the Spanish strength and will.

"General! We must retreat!" Major Martinez roared, his face covered in soot. "The Santa Clara and San Pedro are gone! The Santa Anna and San Cristóbal have also lost most of their combat capability!"

"We have to admit that there is a huge gap in combat power between us and the enemy! What's worse, some of our warships have suffered too many casualties, and we can't even fill all the gun emplacements!"

Ovinila looked around and saw that the once-massive fleet was now in ruins.

Masts, canvases, barrels, and struggling sailors float on the sea.

On the decks of the surviving warships, the casualties were heavy, and very few sailors and soldiers were still able to fight.

The effects of scurvy and the long voyage took hold at this moment, and many gun positions fell silent due to a lack of manpower.

If we do not find a way to disengage from the battle, then defeat is inevitable.

A profound sense of sorrow and despair gripped Ovinella's heart.

He carried the heavy responsibility entrusted to him by the empire, crossed two oceans, and endured countless hardships, but he didn't even see the enemy's port before he was about to perish in this cold and unfamiliar sea.

"Retreat...retreat to Port Compsescion! As long as we take refuge in the port, we can use the cover of the coastal fortifications to repel the attack of the New Chinese!"

This was the only chance of survival he could think of.

If they can reach the mouth of the Biobio River and rely on the port and shore artillery, they might be able to regroup (and barely survive).

The remaining Spanish warships received the signal and turned around, disregarding formation, desperately heading towards the coastline that was faintly visible to the northeast.

The worst part is that this is no longer a retreat, but a rout.

Everyone lost their will to fight.

The enemy chose a suitable time to attack—when they were exhausted and weakened after their long journey—and waited here to launch a very fierce surprise attack.

However, the Xinhua Fleet clearly wouldn't let them go.

Those highly maneuverable Xinhua warships, with their swift speed, seized the windward position like sharks and plunged straight into the space between the Spanish fleet and the coastline.

They bombarded Spanish ships attempting to reach the shore with heavy artillery fire and constantly blocked the Spanish advance with timely blocking maneuvers.

The "Fast" light sailboat, which attempted to force its way into the river mouth, was instantly bombarded by several times the amount of firepower. Its hull was riddled with holes, and its masts were broken one after another. Soon, it drifted helplessly outside the river mouth.

Another large galleon, the San Lorenzo, was also forced back by the fierce gunfire, its sails caught fire, and thick smoke billowed out.

Standing on the wrecked bridge of the "Verax", Ovinila looked at the Xinhua Fleet waiting in full battle ahead, and then looked back at the Xinhua Second Detachment chasing behind him. He finally understood that the enemy's goal from the very beginning was to completely annihilate them at sea.

They patiently waited there, carefully choosing the battlefield, and employed the same tactics as the English, giving them absolutely no way out.

The sea breeze was still biting, but it couldn't dispel the lingering smoke and blood.

Under the leaden sky, the azure sea was mottled with blood and oil.

The fleet that once symbolized the glory of the Spanish Empire is now making its final, hopeless struggle under the enemy's precise and ruthless artillery fire.

The snow-capped peaks of the Andes Mountains seemed to be watching the battle unfolding at their feet in the distance, witnessing the twilight of an old maritime hegemon and the ruthless edge of a newly rising power.

"Order all ships... to retreat on their own!"

The battle continues, and the artillery fire keeps roaring.

Ovinella gripped the bridge deck tightly with both hands, his eyes filled with sorrow as he looked at the corpses lying haphazardly on the deck and the wailing wounded, his ears filled with the whistling of shells, the cracking of timber, and the groans of the dying.

He knew that the Spanish Empire's ambitions in the Pacific might be about to crumble today.
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(End of this chapter)