THE RAMSGATE LIFE-BOAT AT WORK.--STORM WARRIORS TO THE RESCUE.
"Ye mariners of England,
That guard our native seas;
Whose flag has braved a thousand years
The battle and the breeze!
Your glorious standard launch again
To match another foe;
And sweep through the deep,
While the stormy winds do blow,
While the battle rages loud and long
And the stormy winds do blow."
It was a Sunday night, in the month of February, a few years ago, the
anxious boatmen, who kept a diligent watch, shrugged their shoulders as
they cast keen glances to windward, and declared that it was going to be
a very dirty night.
Heavy masses of cloud skirted the horizon as the sun set; and as the
night drew on, violent gusts of wind swept along, accompanied by
snow-squalls.
It was a dangerous time for vessels in the Channel, and it proved fatal
to one at least.
Before the light broke on Monday morning, the Margate lugger _Eclipse_
put out to sea to cruise round the shoals and sands in the neighbourhood
of Margate, on the look out for the victims of any disasters that might
have occurred during the night.
The crew soon discovered that a vessel was ashore on the Margate Sands,
and directly made for her. She proved to be the Spanish brig
_Samaritano_ of one hundred and seventy tons, bound from Antwerp to
Santander, and laden with a valuable and miscellaneous cargo.
Her crew consisted of the captain, Modesto Crispo, and eleven men; it
was during a violent squall of wind and snow that the vessel was driven
on the Sands, at about half-past five in the morning; the crew attempted
to get away from the vessel in the boats, but in vain, the oars were
broken in the attempt, and the boats stove in.
The lugger _Eclipse_, as she was running for the brig, spoke a
Whitstable fishing-smack, and borrowed two of her men and her boat. They
boarded the brig as the tide went down, and hoped to be able to get her
off the Sands at the next high water. For this purpose, six Margate
boatmen and the two Whitstable men were left on board.
But with the rising tide, the gale came on again in all its fury, and
the boatmen had speedily to give up every hope of saving the vessel.
They hoisted their boat on board to prevent her being swamped by the
seas which were breaking heavily, and all hands began to feel that it
was becoming a question, not of saving the vessel, but of saving their
own lives. The sea rushed furiously over the wreck, lifting her, and
then letting her fall with crushing violence upon the sands. Her timbers
did not long withstand this trial of their strength; a hole was quickly
knocked in her side, she filled with water, and settled down upon the
sand.
The waves began now to break with great force over the deck; the
lugger's boat was speedily knocked to pieces and swept overboard; the
hatches were forced up, and some of the cargo which floated on the deck
was at once washed away. The brig began to roll and labour fearfully, as
wave after wave broke against her, with a force that shook her from stem
to stern and threatened to throw her bodily upon her broadside; the men,
fearing this, cut the weather-rigging of the main mast, and the mast
soon broke off short with a great crash, and went over the side.
All hands now took refuge in the fore-rigging; nineteen men had then no
other hope between them and a terrible death than the few shrouds of the
shaking mast.
The wind beat against the poor fellows with hurricane force; each wave
that broke against the vessel sprang up in columns of foam and drenched
them to the skin; the air was full of spray and sleet, which froze upon
them as it fell.
The Margate boatmen were there, but the Margate lugger could not have
lived five minutes in the sea that surrounded the vessel; the Whitstable
smack would have been wrecked at once, if she had attempted to get near
the wreck, and thus the poor fellows, caught in a trap, had to be left
by their comrades to their fate, their only chance of escape being the
possibility of a life-boat coming to their rescue, and this before their
frail support should yield to the rush of wind and sea.
And resting in this hope they waited hour after hour, clinging to the
shrouds of the tottering mast; but no help came, until one and all
despaired of life.
In the meanwhile, news of the wreck had spread like wildfire through
Margate. In spite of the gale, and the blinding snow squalls, many of
the inhabitants struggled to the cliff, and with spy-glasses tried to
penetrate the scud, or to gain in the breaks of the storm some glimpses
of the wreck.
As soon as the peril the crew of the brig were in was known, the smaller
of the two Margate life-boats was manned and made to the rescue. As she
sailed out into the storm, the seas broke over her and filled her; this
her gallant crew heeded little at first, for they had every confidence
in her powers to ride safely through any storm, that her air-tight
compartments would prevent her from sinking; but to the astonishment of
the men they found that the boat was rapidly losing her buoyancy, and
fast becoming unmanageable; indeed she was filling with water, which
came up to the men's waists. The air-tight boxes had evidently filled;
and they remembered, too late, that the valves, with which each box is
provided to let out any water that may leak in, had been left unscrewed
in the excitement of starting. Their boat, with the air-tight
compartments filled with water, virtually ceased to be a life-boat, and
her crew had to struggle for their own safety. Although then within a
quarter of a mile of the brig, there was no help for it, they could make
no farther way against the storm; the boat was unmanageable, and the
only chance of life left to the boatmen themselves, was to run her
ashore on the nearest part of the coast. It was doubtful whether they
would be able to succeed even in this; and it was not until they had
battled for four hours with the sea and gale, that they were able to get
ashore in Westgate Bay.
There the coastguard were ready to receive them, and did their best to
revive the exhausted men. As soon as it was discovered at Margate that
the first life-boat was disabled, the large life-boat, the _Friend of
all Nations_, was got ready with every speed, and with much trouble
dragged round to the lee side of the pier, where it was launched. Away
she started, her brave crew doing all they could to battle with the
gale, and force their way out to the wreck; but all their efforts were
in vain; the tremendous wind was right against them; the sea completely
overpowered them, and prevented their beating to windward; the tiller
gave way, and after a hard struggle her crew had also to give up the
attempt, and this life-boat in turn was driven ashore about one mile
from the town. With both their life-boats wrecked, the Margate men
almost gave up all hopes of saving the crew of the vessel and the men
that were left on board; but this should not be the case until every
possible effort had been made; but it was with small hope for the
shipwrecked, and with much apprehension for the boats themselves, that
the people watched two luggers--the _Nelson_ and the _Lively_--undaunted
by the fate of the life-boats, stagger out mid the sweeping seas to the
rescue.
The fate of one lugger, the _Nelson_, was soon settled; a fearful squall
of wind caught her before she had got many hundred yards clear of the
pier; it swept her foremast out of her, and her crew had to make every
possible effort to avoid being driven on the rocks, and there wrecked.
The _Lively_ was more fortunate; she beat her way out to sea, but found
so heavy a surf breaking over the Sands, that it was evidently
impossible to cross them, or to get near the wreck.
The Margate people became full of despair, and many a bitter tear was
shed for sympathy and for personal loss as they watched the wreck, and
thought of the poor fellows perishing slowly before their eyes,
apparently without any possibility of being saved.
A rumour spread among the crowd that the lieutenant of the coastguard
had sent an express off to Ramsgate, for the Ramsgate steamer and
life-boat; but this scarcely afforded any hope, as it was thought
impossible that the steamer and life-boat could make their way round the
North Foreland in the teeth of so tremendous a gale, or that, if they
did so, it was supposed impossible that either the ship could hold
together, or the crew live, exposed as they were in the rigging, during
the time it would of necessity take the steamer and boat to get to them.
We now change the scene to Ramsgate.
From an early hour on the Monday morning, groups of boatmen assembled
on the pier at Ramsgate; they were occasionally joined by some of the
more hardy among the townsmen, or by a stray visitor, attracted by the
wild scene that the storm presented.
The boatmen could faintly discern, in the intervals between the
snow-squalls, a few vessels in the distance, running before the gale,
and they were keenly on the watch for signals of distress, that they
might hasten to the rescue.
But no such signal was given.
Every now and then, as the wind boomed by, some landsmen suggested that
it was the report of a gun from one, or other, of the three
light-vessels, which guard the dangerous Goodwin Sands; but the boatmen
shook their heads, and those who with spy-glasses kept a look-out in the
direction of the light-vessels confirmed them in their disbelief.
About nine o'clock, tidings came to Ramsgate that a brig was ashore on
the Woolpack Sands off Margate. It was, of course, concluded that the
two Margate life-boats would go to the rescue; and although there was
much anxiety and excitement as to the result of the attempt the Margate
boatmen would certainly make, no one had the least idea that the
services of the Ramsgate life-boat would be required. But shortly after
twelve a coastguard man from Margate hastened breathless to the pier,
and to the harbour-master's office, saying, in answer to eager inquiries
as he hurried on, that the two Margate life-boats had been wrecked, and
that the Ramsgate boat was wanted.
The harbour-master immediately gave orders, "Man the life-boat."
No sooner had the words passed from his lips than the boatmen, who had
crowded round the door in anticipation of the order, rushed away to the
boat.
First come, first in; not a moment's hesitation, not a thought of
further clothing; they will go as they are, rather than not go at all.
The news rapidly spreads; each boatman as he heard it, hastily snatched
up his bag of waterproof overalls, and south-wester cap, and rushed down
to the boat; and for some time boatman after boatman was to be seen
racing down the pier, hoping to find a place still vacant; if the race
had been to save their lives, rather than to risk them, it would hardly
have been more hotly contested.
Some of those who had won the race and were in the boat, were ill
prepared with clothing for the hardships they would have to endure, for
if they had not their waterproofs at hand they did not delay to get
them, fearing that the crew might be made up before they got to the
boat. But these men were supplied by the generosity of their
disappointed friends, who had come down better prepared, but too late
for the enterprise; the famous cork jackets were thrown into the boat
and at once put on by the men.
The powerful steam-tug, well named the _Aid_, that belongs to the
harbour, and has her steam up night and day ready for any emergency that
may arise, speedily got her steam to full power, and with her brave and
skilful master, Daniel Reading, in command, took the boat in tow, and
together they made their way out of the harbour. James Hogben, who, with
Reading, has been in many a wild scene of danger, was coxswain, and
steered and commanded the life-boat.
It was nearly low water at the time, but the force of the gale was such
as to send a good deal of spray dashing over the pier; the snow fell in
blinding squalls, and drifted and eddied in every protected nook and
corner. It was hard work for the excited crowd of people, who had
assembled to see the life-boat start, to battle their way through the
drifts and against the wind, snow, and foam to the head of the pier; but
there at last they gathered, and many a one felt his heart fail as the
steamer and boat cleared the protection of the pier, and encountered the
first rush of wind and sea outside. "She seemed to go out under water,"
said one old fellow; "I would not have gone out in her for the
universe." And those who did not know the heroism and determination that
such scenes call forth in the breasts of the boatmen, could not help
wondering much at the eagerness which had been displayed to get a place
in the boat--and this although the hardy fellows knew that the two
Margate life-boats had been wrecked in the attempt to get the short
distance which separated the wreck from Margate; while they would have
to battle their way through the gale for ten or twelve miles before they
could get even in sight of the vessel.
It says nothing against the daring or skill of the Margate boatmen,
that they failed. In such a gale they could not get to windward against
wind and tide, success therefore was almost impossible without the aid
of steam; with a steam-boat to tow them into position for dashing in
upon the Sands, the Margate boats would in all probability have
succeeded; without such assistance the Ramsgate boat would have
certainly failed. As soon as the steamer and boat got clear of the
Ramsgate pier, they felt the full force of the storm, and it seemed
almost doubtful whether they could make any progress against it. They
slowly worked their way out of the full strength of the tide, as it
swept round the head of the pier, and then began to move ahead a little
more rapidly, and were soon ploughing their way through a perfect sea of
foam.
The steamer with its engines working full power, plunged heavily along;
wave after wave broke over its bows, sent its spray flying over the
funnel and mast, and deluged the deck with a tide of water, which, as it
rushed aft, gave the men enough to do to hold on.
The life-boat was towing astern with fifty fathom of five-inch hawser
out, an enormously strong rope about the thickness of a man's wrist. Her
crew already experienced the dangers and discomforts, that they were
ready to endure, perhaps, for many hours, and without a murmur, in order
to save life.
There was anxiety and fear, but the one thought of anxiety and fear was,
as to whether they could possibly be in time to save the lives of the
poor fellows, who must, for so many hours, have been clinging to a
shattered wreck. It would be hard to give a description to enable one to
realize the position of the men in the boat, as they were being towed
along by the steamer. The use of a life-boat is, that it will float and
live, where other boats would of necessity be swamped, upset, and
founder; they are made for, and generally only used on, occasions of
extreme danger and peril, for terrible storms and wild seas.
The water flows into the boat, and over it, and it still floats: some
huge wave will break over it, and for a moment bury it, but it rises in
its buoyancy and shakes itself free; beaten down on its broadside by the
waves and wind, it struggles hard, and soon rises again on an upright
keel, and defies them to do their worst; and even if some mighty breaker
should come rushing along, catch her in its curling arms, and bodily
upset her, only for a few seconds would the triumph last, the boat would
speedily right again, sitting like an ark of refuge in the boiling sea
of foam, while her crew, upheld by their cork jackets, would be floating
and struggling around her, until one after another would manage to
regain her sides, and clamber in over her low gunwale at the waist, and
shortly she would be speeding away again on her life errand. Such were
the qualities of the noble boat, which we are watching, while she is
urging her way through the dismal seas, while a dozen poor fellows, some
nine or ten miles off, are hanging to the shaking shrouds of a tottering
mast, the waves that are breaking over them threatening every moment to
be their tomb.
Away! away, then, brave boat! gallant crew! God grant you good
progress!
Since the moment of clearing the pier, the waves that broke over the
boat filled her time after time, and did everything but drown her. The
men were up to their knees in water; they bent forward as much as they
could, each with a firm hold upon the boat.
The spray and waves rushed over them, and as they beat continuously upon
their backs, although they could not penetrate their waterproof
clothing, still they chilled them to the bone, for, as the spray fell,
it froze, indeed so bitter was the cold that the men's mittens were
frozen to their hands.
After a tremendous struggle the steamer seemed to be making head against
the storm; they were well clear of the pier and getting on gallantly.
They made their way through the Cud Channel, and had passed between the
black and white buoys, so well known to Ramsgate visitors, when a
fearful sea came heading towards them. It met and broke over the
steamer, buried her in foam, and swept along.
The life-boat rose to it, for a moment hung with her bows high in air,
and then as she felt the strain of the tow-rope, plunged bodily into the
wave, and was almost altogether under water; the men were nearly washed
out of her, but at that moment the tow-rope broke, the wave threw the
boat back with a jerk, and as the strain of the rope suddenly ceased,
the boat fell across the seas which swept in rapid succession over her,
and seemed completely at their mercy. Oars out! oars out! was the cry,
and the men, as soon as they could get breath, got them out, and began
to make every effort to get the boat round again, head to wind, but in
vain, the waves tossed the oars up, the wind caught the blades, and it
was as much as the men could do to keep them in their hands. The gale
was too heavy for them, and they drifted rapidly before wind and tide
towards the Brake Shoal, which was directly under their lee, and over
which the seas were rushing with great violence. But the steamer, which
throughout was handled most admirably, both as regards skill and
bravery, was put round as swiftly as possible, and very cleverly brought
within a few yards to windward of the boat, as she lay athwart the sea.
The men on board the steamer threw a hauling line on board the boat to
which was attached a bran new hawser, and again took the boat in tow.
The tide was still flowing, and as it rose, the wind came up in heavier
and heavier gusts, bringing with it a blinding snow and sleet, which,
with the spray, still freezing as it fell, swept over the boat, till the
men looked, as one said at the time, like a body of ice.
The men could not look to windward for the drifting snow and blinding
seas which were continually rushing over them, they only knew that the
strong steamer was plunging along, taking all as it came, for they felt
the strain on the rope; thus they realized that each moment's suffering
and peril brought them nearer to their poor perishing fellow-sailors;
and not one heart failed, not one repented of winning the race to the
life-boat.
Off Broadstairs, they suddenly felt the way of the boat stop. The rope
broken again, was the first thought of all; but on looking round as they
were enabled to do, as the boat was no longer being dragged through the
seas; they discovered to their utter dismay that the steamer had
stopped; they thought that her machinery had broken down, and at once
despaired of saving the lives of the shipwrecked, for with the wind as
it was, it would be long hours before they could beat up against the
gale, and get to the Sands, on which they were told the wreck lay; a
moment's suspense and they discovered, to their gladness, that the
steamer had merely stopped to let out more cable, fearful that it might
break again in the struggle that was before them, as they fought their
way round the North Foreland.
Another hour's hard struggle, and they reached the North Foreland. There
the sea was running tremendously high--the gale was still increasing;
the snow, sleet, and spray, rushed by with hurricane speed.
Although it was only early in the afternoon, the air was so darkened by
the storm that it seemed a dull twilight. The captain of the boat was
steering; he peered out between his collar and cap, but looked in vain
for the steamer. He knew that she was all right, for the rope kept
taught; but many times, although she was only a hundred yards ahead, he
could see nothing of her, still less able were the men on board the
steamer to see the life-boat.
Often did they anxiously look astern, and watch for a break in the drift
and scud to see that she was all right; for although there could be no
doubt as to the strain upon the rope, she might be towing along bottom
up, or have all her men washed out of her, for all they could tell. The
master of the steamer watched the seas, which broke over the _Aid_,
making her stagger again, as they rushed towards the life-boat, and
several times the fear that she was gone came over him. But steamer and
life-boat still battled successfully against the storm.
As soon as they were round the North Foreland, the snow squall cleared
and they sighted Margate; all anxiously looked for the wreck, but
nothing of her could they see. They saw a lugger riding just clear of
the pier, with foremast gone, and anchor down to prevent her being
driven ashore by the gale. They next sighted the Margate life-boat
driven ashore and abandoned in Westgate Bay, looking a complete wreck,
the waves beating over her. A little beyond this they caught sight of
the second life-boat, also washed ashore; and then they learnt to
realize to the full the gallant efforts that had been made to save the
shipwrecked, and the destruction that had been wrought as effort after
effort had been overcome by the fury of the storm. But where was the
wreck? Had she been beaten to pieces, all lives lost, and were they too
late? A heavy mass of cloud and snowstorm rolled on to windward of them
in the direction of the Sands off Margate, and they could not make out
any signs of the wreck there.
There was just a chance that it was the Woolpack Sand that she was on.
They thought it the more likely, as the first intelligence of the wreck
that came to Ramsgate declared that such was the case; and accordingly
they determined to make for the Woolpack Sand, which was about three
miles farther on; they had scarcely decided upon this, when,
providentially, there was a break in the drift of the snow to windward,
and they suddenly caught sight of the wreck. But for this sudden
clearance in the storm they would, as we have said, have proceeded
farther on, and some hours must have passed before they could have found
out their mistake and got back again, and by that time every soul of the
poor shipwrecked crew must have perished.
The master of the steamer made out the flag of distress flying in the
rigging of the vessel, the ensign union downwards; she, doubtlessly, was
the wreck of which they were in search.
But still it was a question how they could get to her, for she was on
the other side of the Sand. To tow the boat round the Sand would take a
long time in the face of such a gale; and for the boat to make across
the Sand seemed almost impossible, so tremendous was the sea that was
running over it.
Nevertheless there was no hesitation on the part of the life-boat crew.
It seemed a forlorn hope, a very rushing upon destruction, to attempt to
force the boat under canvas through such a surf and sea; but they looked
at the tottering wreck; they felt how any moment might be the last to
the poor fellows clinging to her, and they could not bear to think of
the delay that would be occasioned by their going round the Sands.
Without hesitation, therefore, they cast off the tow-rope, and were
about setting sail, when they found that the tide was running so
furiously that they must be towed at least three miles to the eastward
before they would be sufficiently far to windward to make certain of
fetching the wreck.
It was a hard struggle to get the tow-rope on board again, tossed about
as they were by the tumbling seas, and a bitter disappointment to all,
that an hour, or more, of their precious time must be consumed before
they could possibly get to the rescue of their endangered brother
seamen; but there was no help for it, and away again they went in tow of
the steamer. The snow-squall came on again, and they lost sight of the
wreck, but all kept an anxious look-out, and now and then, in a break in
the squall, they could catch a glimpse of her. They could see that she
was almost buried in the waves which broke over her in great clouds of
foam, and again many and weary were the doubts and speculations, as to
whether any on board of her could still be alive. For twenty minutes or
so they battled steadily on against wind and tide.
The gale, which had been increasing since the morning, came on heavier
than ever, and roared like thunder over head; the sea was running so
furiously and meeting the life-boat with such tremendous force that the
men had to cling on their hardest not to be washed out of her, and at
last the new tow-rope could no longer resist the increasing strain, and
suddenly parted with a tremendous jerk; there was no thought of picking
up the cable again--they could stand no further delay, and one and all
of her crew rejoiced to hear the captain of the life-boat give orders to
set sail.