The poor lad had all the clothing his parents could supply him with, but that was little more than he stood up in; no waterproof overalls, no sea-boots, the almost child had to rough it hardly enough; in bad weather wet through day and night, with no bed to lie upon, and no change of dry clothes; he used to throw himself down on the floor of the small cabin, and lie coiled up before the little fire that glimmered in the stove; the spray oftentimes washing down the hatchway and surging up against his back, so that he had to be content with being dry one side at a time; but strangely enough it agreed with him; as that rough life, with all its strong sea-breezes, and its abundance of good fish diet, does agree with many a little urchin, who, for sturdiness, is not to be surpassed by any luxury-lapped little fellow in the land.
After Jarman had finished his apprenticeship in the fishing-smack, he was for some years in a collier, during which time he was twice wrecked. And after that for seven or eight years he worked as a Ramsgate boatman, always on the look-out in rough weather, day and night, with but short intervals for sleep, for a signal of distress from the Goodwin Sands, and a call for the life-boat; and so all his training well fitted him for the post of life-boat coxswain; and when the vacancy was made by Hogben's illness, Jarman was well chosen to fill the post. For ten years he continued coxswain of the life-boat, going out in her no fewer than one hundred and thirty-two times, and helping to save between three and four hundred lives.
You may see many a medal that has been well won—and that is worthily worn—by veteran soldier or sailor, but you will find few that have been better won, or that are more worthily worn, than are the four medals and a clasp that our Storm Warrior Jarman has to show as records of his brave and self-sacrificing services; or the three medals that Hogben can display on high days and holidays; or those given to Reading, the brave master of the steam-tug Aid, and those worn by many another gallant boatman or sailor, who, at Ramsgate, or at other stations round the coast, have done true warrior service in saving life from shipwreck.
After holding his post of coxswain for ten years, Jarman found the exposure too much for him: he was out nine times in one fortnight, five times in one week; he was seized with a very severe attack of bronchitis, from which he never thoroughly recovered, and had shortly to give up going to sea, and resign his position of coxswain.
He had three brothers and a nephew brought up as sailors, all of whom have been drowned; well do I remember the night when his last brother was drowned.
It had been blowing a heavy gale for three days and nights, with continual snowstorms; the vessels at sea were in terrible peril: they had no help for it but to drive blindly before the gale, unable to see any of the lights or buoys which mark the sands and shoals. I had heard that a Ramsgate collier was known to have sailed from the North some days since, and could not be far off; and it was with a sad heart and deep anxiety that I lingered on the pier that afternoon watching the storm. I saw the boatmen all ready on the look-out for any signal, but I felt, as they felt, that there could be but little hope of any vessels being able to run the gauntlet of the many sandbanks in that dark storm, or of being able to make any signals heard, or seen, if they got into danger.
It was with a deep feeling of dread and apprehension that I left Jarman and his fellow-boatmen to their dreary and almost hopeless watch; and they watched on through the long dark hours of the night, ready at any moment to man the life-boat; but they could discover no signal—the roar of the storm was too great, the fall of snow too continuous. And yet during those sad hours while the boatmen crouched, sheltering themselves as well as they could—watching, and listening, and waiting, but in vain—the terrible tragedy was worked out; at daylight they saw a wreck in Pegwell Bay. Man the life-boat! No, too late, she is bottom up, her masts are gone; she must have been wrecked on the Brake Sand, and been rolled over and over by the tremendous sweep of the sea, and the tide. Yes, it is the Ramsgate collier that was expected, and that Jarman's brother commanded; and he and all his crew have miserably perished—perished within sight of home, and within half a mile or so of the life-boat men who were so eagerly watching and waiting for a call to their rescue, and to whom they could not make their danger known.
And to this day you may see the sad record of the disaster in the remains of the hull of the wreck, washed high up on the shore in Pegwell Bay, and there half buried in the sand.
A great grief to Jarman this sad loss of his brother; and the poor man left a widow and a large family of children; and when fine weather came, in the early summer, many a friend who had had pleasant chats with the life-boat coxswain on Ramsgate pier, was surprised to find him diligently cruising in and out of offices in London; he was canvassing for votes for the Merchant Seamen's Orphan Asylum, and he laboured on until he succeeded in getting two of his late brother's children into that famous institution.
Charles Fish was appointed to succeed Jarman as coxswain, and the life-boat under his guidance continues to do good service; many times has he been out in her, and many times has he, through much hardship and danger, brought saved lives home. And may God in His mercy continue to shield and bless him and the brave men who sail with him, and aid them in their gallant efforts to pluck the shipwrecked and the drowning from all the mighty strife of waters, that battles with such deadly fury when the storms rage round the fatal Goodwin Sands.