When Bax and his party arrived at Saint Margaret's Bay, the scene of
wreck and death had already begun.
The vessel was just discernible in the midst of the turmoil of warring
elements that filled the dark air with misty spray. A boat had tried to
reach the shore with a number of passengers--chiefly men--in her. Her
fate was quickly sealed. A huge breaker upset her, and six of the dead
bodies of her crew had already been plucked from the sea, and laid on
the shingle. The rest were being hurled on the land and swept back by
the force of the returning waves, until the people assembled there
caught and dragged them also beyond their reach.
Messengers had already been sent to the nearest lifeboat stations, and
the people who remained behind were either occupied in attempting to
recover the bodies of the drowned, as above described, or in suggesting
impossible plans for conveying a line on board the ill-fated vessel.
"Ha! here comes the man as'll tell us wot's to be done, and do it too!"
cried one of the boatmen, "wot say, Bax, can we git a line off, think
'ee?"
Bax stood on the edge of the roaring sea, silent and motionless, with
his arms crossed on his broad chest, and his bold gaze directed to the
wreck.
"No," said he, after standing a few moments thus, "it can't be done. No
mortal man could cross the surf on the inner rocks; but there's a point
o' rocks not far to the nor'ard; does any one know how far the tide may
cover 'em just now?"
"About half," answered several voices eagerly.
"Ay, so't does," observed a coast-guard-man, "but with sich a surf
beatin' on 'em there ain't a rock on the whole pint above water this
minute."
"Come, let's go see," cried Bax, snatching a coil of light rope from the
hand of a man who stood close by, and hastening away with it in the
direction of the rocky point referred to.
In a few seconds he stood on its outer extremity, with Guy Foster,
Coleman, and a few of the more courageous men at his side.
The point on which Bax stood was indeed a position of great danger.
Besides being whelmed in driving spray, so that it was a matter of
extreme difficulty to see more than a few yards in any direction, the
waves at times rushed up to and over them with such violence as to reach
the knees of those who stood there, and threatened to wash them off.
Nevertheless, from this point Bax thought it possible that the end of
the line might be conveyed on board the "Trident," which could be seen
looming high and black in the murky air, lifting and falling with a
heavy crash as each successive billow broke under and over her, carrying
on with irresistible violence the work of destruction. Both chains had
given way, and she was now rolling a helpless wreck on the rocks.
"D'ye mean to try it?" said Guy, anxiously, as he observed his friend
fastening the line round his waist.
"Hold the end of it, Guy, and pay out," said Bax, "mind you don't haul
in unless you're _sure_ I'm goin' down."
With this caution, Bax plunged into the surf, and struck out for the
wreck, having previously placed an open clasp-knife between his teeth.
A cheer broke from the nearest group on the rocks when they witnessed
this bold act. It was taken up and re-echoed by those farther up the
beach, who knew that some hopeful effort was being made, although they
were unable to perceive the precise nature of it. The people on the
wreck also heard the cheer, and looked eagerly landward. But to them
all was shrouded in darkness. Even Guy quickly lost sight of his
friend, and was only made aware of his safety and onward progress by the
continued running out of the line. Suddenly it stopped.
"He's a-board," cried Coleman.
"He would jerk on it if he was," said Guy, with a doubtful shake of the
head.
"He's sunk," cried one of those who stood by and held the slack of the
rope.
A panic seemed to seize the others who stood by. "Haul 'im in!" cried
one. "Look alive!" shouted another, "he's a gone man." Before Guy
could interfere, they acted on the impulse, and drew in two or three
fathoms.
Twisting his left arm suddenly round the rope, Guy planted his foot on a
rock and stopped it; at the same time he raised his right hand, and
threatened to fell the man nearest to him. The result was that the men
desisted from hauling, but when the rope was again felt it became
evident that there was no weight at the farther end of it. Guy's heart
sank with horror as the empty line was drawn in. For a moment he felt
all the agony of despair; but a gleam of hope rushed in upon him on
observing that the end of the rope was _cut_, as if with a sharp knife,
not by the edge of a rock.
Animated by this hope he hastened back to the beach in quest of another
line, resolved himself to attempt to carry it to the wreck.
Guy was right in his conjecture that Bax had cut the rope. On nearing
the ship the latter had come unexpectedly on a large rock, under the lee
of which he paused to recover breath before making the last gallant
struggle towards the wreck. It was this pause that caused the alarm of
those on shore. When Bax felt himself dragged violently back to the
land, he at once divined the cause, and, knowing that there was no other
resource, he seized the clasp-knife, and cut the rope. A few minutes
later he swam under the lee of the wreck, and, catching hold of the
rigging of the foremast, which had gone by the board when the ship
struck, he clambered up the side and soon stood on the quarter-deck.
The hope raised among the passengers by the sudden appearance of the
gigantic stranger in the midst of them, was quickly dispelled when he
told them how he had failed in the main object of his effort. But it
revived somewhat when they observed the active and energetic way in
which Bax set about preparations for returning to the shore with a line
from the ship. His first act was to ask for a blue-light, which after a
few minutes was produced. This he set fire to, and, springing into the
main rigging, held it aloft, and sent a bright glare for a few minutes,
far and wide, over the scene.
The effect of this was twofold. It revealed to the shipwrecked people
the dangers by which they were surrounded, and the active efforts that
were being made by land and water for their deliverance. On shore, they
saw crowds of men and women surrounding an instrument, which Bax, after
giving vent to a hopeful cheer, explained was a rocket apparatus.
Scarcely had they learned this, when Bax shouted and waved his hand
seaward. On turning their eyes in that direction, they beheld a
lifeboat bearing down towards them, her white-painted sides gleaming
like the wings of an angel of light in the midst of the dark tempest.
The lifeboat was also seen by the people on shore, and Guy, who at once
recognised the figure, and the _vigour_, of his friend with the
blue-light, lent able assistance to those who managed the rocket.
Dennett's Rocket Apparatus, which was being placed in position on the
rocks, is an invention by which many human lives are saved on our coasts
every year. Like Manby's Mortar Apparatus, it is simple in its action
and most effective in operation.
The grand difficulty in the case of a wreck near shore is to establish a
communication, by means of a rope, between the wreck and the land; and
this difficulty is, of course, much increased when the wreck occurs off
a coast lined with rocks or steep cliffs. To swim off from the shore to
the wreck, or _vice versa_, is, in most cases, an absolute
impossibility. The rocket apparatus has been devised for the purpose of
overcoming this difficulty. By means of it a light "line" as it is
called, or rope, the thickness of the point of one's little finger, can
be thrown over a wreck lying at a distance of several hundred yards from
the beach. This line, when caught, is the means by which many a life
has been saved from the devouring sea. The _modus operandi_ will be
seen in the sequel.
The apparatus consists of five parts; the rocket, the stand, the line,
the whip, and the hawser. The rocket is a strong metal cylinder, of
about eighteen inches in length, and more than two in diameter. When
about to be used a long stick is attached to it, and the principle on
which it acts is precisely similar to that of the small rockets used in
our pyrotechnic displays. The stand is a tripod supporting a rest for
the rocket. The line, which is made of the best material, is coiled in
a large box in a zig-zag manner on a number of pegs; these pegs, when
withdrawn in a mass by removing the bottom of the box to which they are
attached, leave the line loose and free to fly out with the utmost
rapidity. The end of the line is fastened to the head of the rocket.
Any one who has stood near an ordinary rocket when it was being fired,
can form some conception of the force and furor with which this iron
monster springs into the air and dashes out to sea in the teeth of the
wildest storm. So tremendous is the gush of fire and smoke, that it has
to be let off by means of a lock, the trigger of which is pulled by a
man standing some yards distant with a cord attached to it in his hand.
Before the rocket was quite ready for action, the lifeboat had
approached the wreck, a hundred yards or so to windward of her. Here
they cast anchor in such a position that by paying out cable they could
veer down towards her slowly and endeavour to range up under her lee.
Every different operation the lifeboat had to perform was fraught with
extreme danger. The mere being overwhelmed by the furious sea and
filled was comparatively a trifling risk. This it had been twice
already, and, but for the time lost in bailing out, it would have been
much earlier on the scene. While paying out cable there was the fear of
the rope breaking or the anchor dragging; then, on nearing the wreck,
there was the risk of being dashed to pieces on the rocks, and after
getting under her lee, the surging of the waves kept them constantly on
the verge of being hurled against the rigging. The wreck of the
foremast, too, which still lay rolling alongside, was a source of
constant anxiety, and the rolling of the ship itself rendered it
probable that one or both of the remaining masts would give way and fall
over the side, in which case the destruction of the boat would be almost
inevitable. Add to this the intense darkness, the terrible uproar of
wind and water, and the difficulty of acting effectively in a boat that
pitched and swooped wildly on the broken seas like the plungings of a
fiery charger,--and some faint idea may be formed of the horrors, as
well as the dangers of the lifeboat service.
Gradually, but surely, the boat dropped nearer and nearer to the doomed
ship, under the guidance of her able coxswain. As it passed under the
stern a cheer burst from the crowd of eager faces that gazed over the
side of the "Trident." Yet there were many hearts there that grew faint
and chill when they beheld the little white speck that seemed to be
their only hope of rescue in that dark hour. "What hope was there that
such a nutshell should save them all?" they thought, perchance, on
seeing it approach. They little knew the wonderful vitality of a
lifeboat!
Just as it passed under the quarter, a sea swept it right up into the
mizzen-chains. The utmost efforts of the crew to fend off were
unavailing. As the billow rolled on, the boat dropt swiftly, scraping
against the ship's side as it fell into the trough of the sea, and
escaping an upset almost by a miracle.
"Throw a line aboard!" shouted Bax, who stood on the lee bulwarks, high
above the crowd, holding on by the mizzen-shrouds.
The middy caught up the instrument used for this purpose, and threw a
line on board at once. This steadied the boat a little, and, watching
their opportunity, they succeeded in lowering three women and a child
into it by means of a bow-line.
In this way, one by one, the females and children were placed in the
boat until it was full. Then there was a cry to shove off, and a rush
was made by the more timid and ignorant among the passengers, who
thought they were about to be forsaken. Bax had foreseen this. He and
several of the sailors met and checked the crowd, and before any
mischief could be done the boat was away.
It made straight for the shore where hundreds of stout arms were ready
to seize it. The midshipman stood on the bow with a rope in his hand.
The sea through which they rushed was milk white with foam. To prevent
the boat broaching-to and being rolled over on the beach was now the
main effort of the coxswain. On they went steadily. A wave broke under
them, carried them on its boiling crest with lightning speed, and
launched them with a roar like thunder on the shingle. The rope was
thrown before they touched. It was seized and manned; and before the
retiring wave could suck them back, the lifeboat with her living freight
was run high upon the beach.
She was soon emptied and relaunched, for there was no time to waste.
Many lives were still in danger, and the "Trident" could not be expected
to hold together long.
It was just as the boat quitted the side of the wreck, as above
described, that the rocket was got in readiness to act.
"Stand by to fire," said the coast-guard-man who had been engaged for
some minutes in adjusting it carefully.
"Keep back! clear out o' the road," cried several of the seamen, as they
pushed back the more curious among the crowd.
There was a flash, a mighty burst of flame and smoke, as the rocket
trembled for an instant on its stand; then, with an impulse that seemed
irresistible, and a hissing shriek that rose above the storm, it sprang
into the air and described a bright curved line of light against the
black sky.
Its own wild blaze served to show that it had been well aimed, and that
the line had fallen across the wreck. This was all that could be done
by the people on shore, until those on the wreck had performed their
part of the work. But while they stood anxiously awaiting the result,
they had no cause to fear that the ignorance of those whom they sought
to rescue would render their efforts useless (as has unfortunately been
the case more than once), for it was known now that Bax was on board.
The ignorance of some seamen as to what should be done with the line
when it is caught, has been the cause of loss of life several times. On
one occasion five men, the crew of a small vessel, being ignorant on
this point, tied the rocket-line round them and leaped together into the
sea! Of course those on shore could do nothing but haul them to land as
quickly as possible; when they had done so, all were found to be drowned
except one.
On the present occasion Bax seized the line as soon as it fell on the
wreck and began to haul it in-board. Guy had attached to it a pulley or
block with a stoutish rope rove through it, and soon those on shore had
the satisfaction of seeing this second and double line (named the
"whip"), hauled out by the people on the wreck. After a time it ceased
to run out, and then they knew that Bax had got hold of the pulley, and
would quickly attach it to the ship. This was soon done. Bax fastened
the pulley to the mainmast, and then caused a lantern to be shown for a
moment, to indicate that all was ready.
Still those on shore delayed to act for a minute, in order to make quite
sure that ample time had been allowed for the fastening of the pulley.
And now the all-important operation of conveying a thick hawser to the
wreck was begun. With the tackle already fast to the ship this was
comparatively easy. The _whip_ being rove through a pulley, both ends
were kept on shore and fastened together. It thus became a sort of
endless rope, by which things could be passed to the wreck and back
again. Even without any hawser at all, many lives might have been saved
by this rope; but, being small, it was liable to get broken, therefore
the end of the thick hawser was sent out and received by Bax, who bound
it also securely to the mainmast close to the pulley, about fifteen feet
above the deck.
The reader will understand that two ropes were now fastened to the
mainmast of the "Trident," their other ends being fixed to a heavy
anchor buried in the sand on shore. One of these ropes was the thick
hawser, the other the whip; but as this whip was an endless or revolving
rope, as has been explained, to an onlooker it appeared that there were
_three_ ropes stretched between the vessel and the shore, two of them
thin and one thick.
These preliminary arrangements having been made, much more rapidly than
the description of them might lead one to suppose, the purpose for which
they had been fixed soon began to be carried out. Just as the lifeboat
arrived with its first cargo of passengers, a large block or pulley was
run out along the hawser by means of the whip, having attached to it a
circular lifebuoy with a canvas bag hanging from it. This was the
contrivance into which one individual at a time was placed and drawn
ashore. Two holes in the bag allowed the legs of the occupant to hang
down, and as the belt reached almost up to the neck, there was not much
chance of his being tossed out of it. It was in order to prevent this,
however, that Bax had fastened the end of the hawser high on the
mainmast, so that the travelling bag was raised sufficiently above the
water, except when it neared the shore. Then, indeed, it was frequently
immersed in the towering waves, but then, too, it was so near the land
that a few seconds sufficed to draw it beyond the reach of the sea.
[See Note 1.]
For two hours did these men of the coast toil in this arduous labour of
love. More than a hundred persons had been saved; but nearly a hundred
still remained on board the wreck.
The storm was now at its height, and the vessel rolled over on her bilge
so violently that the lifeboat was more than once on the point of being
crushed under her massive sides. On her last trip she came close up
under the quarter as on former occasions, but before any one could be
taken off a monstrous wave lifted the hull right over the rocks on which
she lay, and let her fall with fearful violence on a bed of sand in such
a position that one of her large timbers snapped across with a report
like a cannon shot.
The lifeboat got entangled in the wreck and could not get clear. To
make matters worse it grounded on a sandbank that rose close to the side
of the "Trident," and could not be hauled out of the dangerous position
in which it was thus suddenly placed. The top-gallant masts of the ship
were swaying wildly over it, the yards were swinging to and fro,
threatening each moment to strike it, and the ragged sails flapped over
it with a noise like thunder.
"Haul off! haul off!" shouted Bax, who observed the extreme danger in
which the boat was placed.
The crew attempted to do so, but for some minutes were unsuccessful. At
last they got into deep water, but just as this was accomplished the
mainyard struck it on the side and overturned it in an instant.
Not being constructed on the self-righting principle, the boat remained
keel up, but the men, buoyed up by their life-jackets, succeeded in
climbing on board the wreck.
A cry of despair arose from those still on board the ill-fated "Trident"
when this catastrophe happened. During the next half-hour the rocket
apparatus was plied with great success, but although most of the women
and children were saved by it (and by the boat before it was disabled),
there were still upwards of fifty men on board the wreck.
"D'you think the ship will hold together long?" said Bax, going aft to
the captain, who clung to the mizzen-shrouds superintending the
operations of the men.
"Not long, I fear," he replied. "If she had been thoroughly repaired
before starting on this voyage she might have weathered the gale; but,
but--"
"But," interposed Mr Clelland,--the dark passenger, who during the
whole of the proceedings which we have narrated had stood calmly beside
the captain looking on--"but Messrs. Denham, Crumps, and Company, being
penny wise and pound foolish, thought that the ships were strong enough
for _their_ purpose, both ship and cargo being fully covered by
insurance!"
There was a spice of bitterness in this man's tone and manner which
displeased Bax. He was about to administer a rebuke to him, when a
larger wave than usual lifted the ship up, and let her fall with such
force that another of her large timbers broke across like a pipe-stem,
and the two remaining masts went by the board, sweeping several of the
passengers and crew into the sea along with the wreck of spars and
cordage.
Just under the quarter a child fell into the water. It had been
wrenched from its mother's arms by the coil of a flying rope. The
mother leaped frantically on the bulwarks, and would have plunged into
the sea had not Bax seized her. At that moment Mr Clelland passed a
rope round his waist, tied it in that swift and perfect manner peculiar
to seamen, and sprang into the sea. He seized the child in his arms.
The captain of the "Trident" had caught the rope as Clelland sprang over
the side. Bax assisted him, and in a few minutes both were hauled
safely on board.
"You're better stuff than I gave you credit for," said Bax, as the dark
passenger delivered the child to its mother.
"Indeed!" said Mr Clelland, with a touch of sarcasm in his tone; "I
hope that I may be able to return you the like compliment at a more
fitting season. At present there is other work for us to do. Come,
lads, we must try to right the lifeboat, who will help me?"
Mr Clelland sprang into the sea as he spoke and swam towards the boat,
which still lay under the lee of the wreck with its keel uppermost. Bax
followed instantly, and so did nearly the whole crew of the boat. These
latter, having on their cork-jackets, ran comparatively little risk of
drowning, but they, as well as Bax and Clelland, were in danger of being
disabled by the rolling spars that surrounded them. With great
difficulty they succeeded in turning the boat over, but, as it was
nearly full of water, much valuable time was wasted before it could be
baled out sufficiently to render it once more serviceable. When this
was accomplished they hauled clear of the wreck, intending to veer round
towards the stern, where they could approach the ship with greater
safety.
The remaining passengers seeing this, rushed upon the poop. At that
moment the ship was lifted up, and hurled with such violence on a sunken
rock that her back was broken; the sea dashed against her side,
separating the poop from the fore part of the vessel, and turning it
completely over, so that every soul on board was plunged suddenly into
the sea.
A wild shriek of despair rose high above the howling of the storm, and
most of the weaker among the passengers sank in the raging sea to rise
no more. But the lifeboat was now in a condition to render effectual
aid to those who were strong enough to struggle a few minutes for their
lives, or to cling to broken portions of the wreck. She was soon as
full as she could hold, and Bax, seizing the bow oar, forced her head
round towards the shore. The coxswain sprang to the helm; "Give way,
lads," was shouted, and in a few seconds the boat was once again
careering towards the shore on the crest of a towering billow. She took
the beach in safety.
"Now, then, shove off again," cried Bax, when the last of the passengers
was assisted out of her.
"Stop!" cried a coast-guard-man, "some of the men are too much knocked
up to go off again."
This was evident, for when the lanterns were held up to the faces of the
brave fellows it was seen that several of the less robust among them
were deadly pale from sheer exhaustion and fatigue. They indignantly
protested, however, that they were still "game for another bout"; but
the coxswain firmly, though kindly, insisted that the cork belts should
be taken off two or three of them and given to the stoutest of at least
a dozen volunteers who eagerly stepped forward.
The boat was then relaunched, and after a careful search, and another
sharp struggle with the angry sea, returned with six saved men and a
woman, besides several apparently dead bodies, which were instantly
removed to a neighbouring cottage, to be treated according to the rules
laid down by the Royal Humane Society for the recovery of those who are
apparently drowned. [See Note 2.]
After the back of the ship was broken, and the wreck overwhelmed, the
rocket apparatus of course became useless, as the mast to which the
ropes were attached broke off close to the deck, and the ropes
themselves became so entangled with the wreck as to be unmanageable; but
before this catastrophe occurred good service had been done, for no
fewer than sixty of the passengers of the ill-fated "Trident" had been
saved by this means alone. The lifeboat had been the means of saving
one hundred and twenty lives; and fifteen men, who succeeded in swimming
to the beach, were rescued with the utmost difficulty by the people on
shore.
Among these last was the captain, who, with that heroic self-devotion
which seems to be a common characteristic of British seamen, had made up
his mind to be the last man to quit the ship. This intention was
frustrated by the breaking up of the vessel. In the confusion he was
swept beyond the reach of the lifeboat, and gained the beach he scarce
knew how. Here he was launched on the shingle by a billow, and washed
high up on the beach. He grasped the loose pebbles with the energy of
despair, but the cataract of white water that rushed back as the wave
retired, swept him with irresistible force into the sea. Again this
happened and as he dug his fingers into the moving gravel, and felt how
hopeless was his case, a cry of anguish burst from him.
The cry was heard by Guy Foster, who, with a rope round his waist, had
been for the last half-hour engaged in rescuing men and women from the
fatal grasp of these retiring waves.
"This way, lads, fetch the lantern, look alive!" he shouted, and sprang
towards the part of the shore whence the cry had proceeded, followed by
a crowd of seamen who had assisted him by holding the rope.
Guy was much exhausted. Six times already had he plunged into the
boiling surf and been dragged out with a fellow-creature in his arms.
He had removed the loop of the rope for a few minutes, and now held it
in his hand as he ran along the beach looking anxiously at the surf.
Once again the captain was hurled on the beach, but in so exhausted a
condition that he could make no effort to save himself. He rolled so
near to Guy's feet that the latter dropped the rope in his haste as he
leaped towards the drowning man. He caught him round the waist just as
the broken billow began to rush back. For one moment Guy stood firm,
but as the retiring water gathered force his limbs quivered, the gravel
rolled from beneath his feet, and he was swept off his legs!
Before he was engulfed in the surf, and almost before the cry of alarm
had burst from his companions on the beach, a boy flung the loop of the
rope over his shoulders, plunged headlong into the sea, and, catching
Guy round the neck with both arms, held to him like a vice. It was
Tommy Bogey! The men hauled gently on the rope at first, fearing to
tear the little fellow from his grasp, but they need not have been so
careful. Tommy's grip was an uncommonly firm one. In half a minute the
three were pulled beyond the reach of the waves--the captain still
breathing, Guy able to walk, though much exhausted, and Tommy Bogey none
the worse for his heroic and successful exertions.
This was the last incident worthy of note that occurred. Of the two
hundred and fifty souls who had rejoiced that night in the prospect of a
safe and speedy termination to their long voyage, fifty-five were
drowned and one hundred and ninety-five were saved. Of these last the
fifteen men who swam ashore would have been the sole survivors, in all
human probability, if there had been no lifeboat or rocket apparatus on
the coast.
For the service thus rendered, each man who risked his life that night
in the lifeboat received 2 pounds from the Royal Lifeboat Institution.
Others who had assisted in saving life on the beach received rewards
proportioned to their services, and Bax, Guy, and Tommy Bogey were each
awarded the gold medal of the Society for the distinguished gallantry
displayed, and the great risks voluntarily encountered by them on this
occasion. It was suggested that Denham, Crumps, and Company should give
something to the men of the lifeboat in acknowledgment of their
services, but Denham, Crumps, and Company did not act on the suggestion!
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Note 1. In order to give those of our readers who happen to be
interested in this subject a better idea of the manner of using the
Rocket apparatus, we subjoin the Instructions given by the Board of
Trade to masters and seamen in regard to it:--
In the event of your vessel stranding within a short distance of the
United Kingdom, and the lives of the crew being placed in danger,
assistance will, if possible, be rendered from the shore in the
following manner, namely:
1. A rocket or shot with a thin line attached will be fired across your
vessel. Get hold of this line as soon as you can, and when you have
secured it let one of the crew be separated from the rest, and, if in
the daytime, wave his hat or his hand, or a flag or handkerchief; or if
at night let a rocket, a blue light, or a gun be fired, or let a light
be shown over the side of the ship, and be again concealed, as a signal
to those on shore.
2. When you see one of the men on shore, separated from the rest, wave
a red flag, or (if at night) show a red light and then conceal it, you
are to haul upon the rocket line until you get a tailed block with an
endless fall rove through it.
3. Make the tail of the block fast to the mast about 15 feet above the
deck, or if your masts are gone, to the _highest secure_ part of the
vessel; and when the tail block is made fast, and the rocket line unbent
from the whip, let one of the crew, separated from the rest, make the
signal required by Article 1 above.
4. As soon as the signal is seen on shore a hawser will be bent to the
whip line, and will be hauled off to the ship by those on shore.
5. When the hawser is got on board, the crew should at once make it
fast to the same part of the ship as the tailed block is made fast to,
only about 18 inches _higher_, taking care that there are no turns of
the whip line round the hawser.
6. When the hawser has been made fast on board, the signal directed by
Article 1 above is to be repeated.
7. The men on shore will then pull the hawser taut, and by means of the
whip line will haul off to the ship a sling life-buoy fitted with
petticoat breeches. The person to be hauled ashore is to get into this
sling, thrusting his legs through the breeches, and resting his armpits
on the lifebuoy. When he is in and secure, one of the crew must be
separated from the rest, and again signal to the shore as directed in
Article I above. The people on shore will then haul the person in the
sling to the shore, and when he has landed will haul back the empty
sling to the ship for others. This operation will be repeated to and
fro until all persons are hauled ashore from the wrecked vessel.
8. It may sometimes happen that the state of the weather and the
condition of the ship will not admit of the hawser being set up, in
which case the sling will be hauled off instead, and the persons to be
rescued will be hauled in it through the surf instead of along the
hawser.
Masters and crews of wrecked vessels should bear in mind that the
success in landing them may in a great measure DEPEND UPON THEIR
COOLNESS AND ATTENTION TO THE RULES HERE LAID DOWN; and that by
attending to them many lives are annually saved by the Mortar and Rocket
Apparatus on the coasts of the United Kingdom.
The system of signalling must be strictly adhered to; and all women,
children, passengers, and helpless persons should be landed before the
crew of the ship.--BOARD OF TRADE, 22nd _December_ 1859.
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Note 2. It is of immense importance that every man in the kingdom
should possess some degree of knowledge on the subject of the
restoration of persons apparently drowned, for no one can tell at what
moment he may be called upon, in the absence of medical aid, to act in a
case of this nature. We therefore make no apology for here giving in
full the rules which have been adopted by the National Lifeboat
Institution. They run as follows:
I. Send immediately for medical assistance, blankets, and dry clothing,
but proceed to treat the patient _instantly_ on the spot, in the open
air, with the _face downwards_, whether on shore or afloat; exposing the
face, neck, and chest to the wind, except in severe weather, and
removing all tight clothing from the neck and chest, especially the
braces.
The points to be aimed at are--first and _immediately_, the RESTORATION
OF BREATHING; and secondly, _after_ breathing is restored, the PROMOTION
OF WARMTH AND CIRCULATION.
The efforts to _restore breathing_ must be commenced immediately and
energetically, and persevered in for one or two hours, or until a
medical man has pronounced that life is extinct. Efforts to promote
_warmth_ and _circulation_ beyond removing the wet clothes and drying
the skin must _not_ be made _until_ the first appearance of natural
breathing. For if circulation of the blood be induced before breathing
has recommenced, the restoration to life will be endangered.