Trueman upbraids the first speaker with dishonesty and want of humanity.
“ ‘Humanity,’ says Sparkes, ‘odds my life! neighbour, there’s not a more tenderhearted fellow alive. Many is the life my boat, when I was in the fishing trade, has saved from pure good-will; but as to the matter of the wrecking, every man must take care of [pg 244]his own interest. Charity, you know, Master Trueman, should begin at home.’ ” And he goes on to say that it was no fault of his that the vessel bulged, or that the master or cabin-boy were drowned; that it is all the chance of war, and that one vessel was the same to him as another, provided it were well laden. He added that he did not pretend to be better than his grandfather, and that wrecking was in fashion in his days and in those of his good old father before him.
Mr. D. Mackinnen, who made a tour through the West Indies early in the present century, particularly mentions the Bahamas as the home of wreckers. He says that the immense variety of banks, shallows, and unknown passages between the hundreds of islands which form the group render the chances of shipwreck frequent. In order to save the crews and property so constantly exposed to danger, the Governor of the Bahamas, about the commencement of this century, licensed a number of daring adventurers to ply up and down and assist ships in peril, and there could not have been collected a more skilful and hardy set of men. But, unfortunately, the governor’s good intentions were baulked by the larger part of them becoming wreckers. Mr. Mackinnen asking one of these men what success he had lately had, was told that there had been about forty sail of pilots along the Florida coast for four months. He remarked that they must have rendered great service to the crews wrecked in that dangerous passage. The pilot said, “No; they generally went on in the night.” “But could not you light up beacons on shore?” “No, no,” said the man, laughing, “we always put them out for a better chance by night.” “But it would have been more humane——” “I did not go there for humanity; I went racking!”
CHAPTER XIX.
“Hovelling” v. Wrecking.
The Contrast—The “Hovellers” defended—Their Services—The Case of the Albion—Anchors and Cables wanted by a disabled Vessel—Lugger wrecked on the Beach—Dangers of the Hoveller’s Life—Nearly swamped by the heavy Seas—Loss of a baling Bowl, and what it means—Saved on an American Ship—The Lost Found—A brilliant example of Life-saving at Bideford—The Small Rewards of the Hoveller’s Life—The case of La Marguerite—Nearly wrecked in Port—Hovellers v. Wreckers—“Let’s all start fair!”—Praying for Wrecks.
The wrecker was a land-ghoul, a monster in human form, who preyed on human life and property. The “hovellers,” a distinctive term on many parts of the coasts of this sea-girt isle, is applied to the hardy men who, in all weathers and at all risks, go to the assistance of ships in distress, and occasionally benefit by a wreck, but they are not wreckers. The Rev. Mr. Gilmore, who has so well described the dangers, perils, and triumphs of the life-boat service, very properly includes among the storm warriors the honest men who perform these practical deeds of naval daring. Visitors to Ramsgate and other seaside resorts of the southern coast will remember the luggers in which holiday excursions are made; many of these same boats are, in winter more especially, engaged in very serious work. “The more threatening and heavy the weather,” says our authority, “the greater the probability of disaster occurring or having occurred, then the more ready are the crew to work their way out to the Goodwin Sands, and to cruise round them on the look-out for vessels in distress; they dare not take the lugger into the broken water—there a life-boat alone can live: but still, she is a grand sea-boat, one that will stagger on, with a ship’s heavy anchor and chain on board, through weather bad enough for anything—a boat that is well suited for the hard and dangerous service which employs her during the winter months.” The hovelling lugger has generally a crew of ten men, and these receive no regular pay. Any salvage or reward the vessel earns is commonly divided into fourteen shares; the boat takes three and a half for the owners, half a share goes for the provisions, and each man of the crew receives one share. Mr. Gilmore says that “complaints are sometimes made of the amounts charged by these men for services rendered; but the cases of a good hovel are few and far between; and often the luggers put out to sea night after night throughout a stormy winter, hanging about the sands, in wind and rain, and snow and mists, the men half-frozen with the cold and half-smothered with the flying surf and spray, and often week after week they thus suffer and endure, and do not make a penny-piece each man; then at last, perhaps, comes a chance: a big ship is on the tail of a sandbank; they render assistance and get her off; they have saved thousands of pounds worth of property; and the captain, and the owners, and the underwriters all look aghast, and cry out with indignation when they ask perhaps a sum that will give them ten or fifteen pounds a man.”
Not uncommonly the lugger speaks a vessel, and finds that an anchor or anchors, cables, &c., have been lost, and must be replaced. They must make in all haste for shore, and obtain what is needed, and put out again to the distressed vessel. What all this may mean on occasions to the owners and men of the hovelling vessels is shown in the following example—the case of the Albion lugger.
The Albion meets a vessel driving before the gale, having lost both her anchors and cables; receives orders to supply her from shore; and the hardy crew, putting the vessel round, beat through the heavy seas, and make for Deal. “They have to force the boat against wind and tide, and much skill is required to prevent her being filled by the rising seas which sweep around her; now she rushes upon the beach, the surf breaks over her and half fills her with water; with a tremendous thump and shake she strikes the shore with her iron keel.