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.