Most of the wreckage is washed up into it, and what remains of a lost ship or cargo will often be kept in this stream, and float away in one long line some miles to leeward. Along this Stream-reach, and in the heaviest of the seas, the men steer the life-boat, all keeping a keen look-out for the body of the lost captain.
They look back at the wreck several times as they speed away; and they soon see the foremast of the vessel go over the side; the hull of the vessel seems also to heave over, and that is the last that is seen of the Providentia, for by the next morning her hull is completely torn to pieces, the lower part buried in the Sands, and the remaining portion utterly swept away.
They run down the Stream-reach for about two miles; when one of the men fancies that he can see an arm waving. All look in the direction pointed out; and to their astonishment they see the captain in the life-buoy; as he rises on the sea, he shouts to them and again waves his arm.
The coxswain at once steers the boat for him, but the seas are so heavy that they knock the boat to leeward, and they just miss him.
The brave fellow shouts, "All right!" as they pass a few yards from him.
The boatmen lose no time; they take the mizen-sail which covers the mate and lad, set it with all possible haste, shake out all reefs in the foresail, head the boat round, and sail well to windward of the captain; almost capsizing the boat under her press of canvas, so eager are they; they keep a good look-out for him, for the seas are leaping so violently that it is a hard thing to keep the poor fellow in view, and at last they lose sight of him altogether. As soon as the boat is well to windward they make across the Stream-reach, then sail down it, and soon catch sight of the captain again; they lower the mizen and run straight for him; soon they down with the foresail to lessen the speed of the boat, for fear they should over run him, and manage to drop gently down by his side.
They lay hold of him and drag him into the boat; the exertion of being pulled in over the side of the boat, and the reaction after his fearful time of suffering and suspense, is too much for his remaining strength, and he seems dying in the men's hands; they try and get him to swallow a little rum, but he cannot do so, and faints.
The men now set sail and make for the Gull light-ship; they see the steamer coming round the South Sands Head in search of them; she takes the boat in tow, and they proceed towards Ramsgate. In the meanwhile some of the men have been doing all they can for the captain, rubbing his back and limbs, and doing all they possibly can to restore his circulation; he soon gets a little better, and is able to tell them that his ship was a Russian ship, the Providentia, from Finland, and that he is a Russian Fin; this last fact enables the men to account for his wonderful powers of endurance in his long exposure to the beating of the waves and to the coldness of the water, for the Finlanders are the hardiest of all sailors. He also tells the men, that the Providentia was a full rigged ship of 700 tons, bound from Newcastle to the Mediterranean with coals. That they had run ashore about eleven or twelve o'clock the night before, in thick weather. That they made signals, which the light-vessels answered. That they had seen the light-vessels signal to the shore; and as he knew that he was near Ramsgate, he felt sure that the life-boat would come out to their rescue; he therefore tried to persuade the crew, eleven in number, to remain by the ship; but that they took the big boat, and left the ship in so heavy a sea that he feared they must all be lost (they were blown over on the French coast, and at last got into Boulogne). Upon reaching Ramsgate the captain, mate, and the boy were carried to the Sailors' Home, being too weak to walk, and were well cared for.
The captain made a long statement as to the gallant services of the life-boat men, and of his deep gratitude to them.