Storm Warriors; or, Life-Boat Work on the Goodwin Sands

by John Gilmore

Again to work; another woman, she is sobbing, and cries out piteously, "Oh! don't shake me; be careful, don't hurt me!" Poor creature! she is very near her confinement; down she falls from the hands of the men who are holding her into the arms of the boatmen, and rolls over into the bottom of the boat. Some of the husbands on board throw blankets down to the poor half-dressed women in the boat; the blankets are rolled into bundles that the wind may not carry them away. Some of the women in the boat are crying aloud for their children; a passenger rushes frantically to the gangway, cries, "Here, here!" and thrusts a big bundle into the hands of one of the sailors, who supposes it to be merely a blanket which the man intends for his wife in the boat. "Here, Bill, catch!" the sailor shouts and throws the bundle to a boatman who is standing up in the boat; he just succeeds in catching it, as it is in the point of falling into the sea, and is thunderstruck to hear a baby's cry proceed from it, while there is a shriek from a woman, "My child! my child!" as she springs forward, and snatches it from him, which tells, indeed, of the greatness of the danger through which the poor little thing has passed. In spite of all the boatmen's care and labour the boat every now and then lurches with a tremendous thump against the ship's side, and would be stove in but for the massive cork fenders which surround her, and still she is leaping and tossing about; now high as the main chains of the ship, now low in the trough of a big sea, the hollow of which is so deep that it leaves but little water between the bottom of the boat and the sands; but with all eager haste the men work on, and at last, after many hair-breadth escapes, and some heavy falls, thirty women and children are got on board, and the boat is declared to be full.

The boatmen cast off the hawsers from her bow and stern, and begin to haul in hard upon the cable. They draw the boat up to the anchor with much difficulty, for as the range of cable gets shorter, the boat jerks and pitches a great deal in the rush of the short waves, and in the swing of the tide. The anchor is up at last; the sails are hoisted; the boat feels her helm, gathers way swiftly, and shoots clear of the ship. A faint and half-hearted cheer greets them as they pass astern of the vessel; the remaining passengers watch them with wistful and somewhat anxious glances as they plunge on through sea and foam. Away the boat bounds before the fierce gale—on through the flying surf and boiling sea—on, although the waves leap over her and fill her with their spray.

Buoyantly she rises and shakes herself free, staggering as a cross wave mid the broken water dashes itself against her bows; tossing her stern high as she climbs the waves' tall crests, then pitching almost bows under as the rolling waves pass under her stern; and lurching heavily on her side as she sinks into the trough of the sea. It is, in spite of their hope, a dread time for the poor women and children on board her, with those whom they love as themselves, left, they almost fear, to perish on the wreck, and while to themselves death at every moment seems very near; trembling with cold and excitement, they crowd together, and hold on to the boat, to each other, to anything; it is hard to think of safety while the boiling seas foam so fiercely around, ready, it seems, at any moment to overwhelm and bury the boat in their fierce waves. And the poor women take a more convulsive and firm grasp, as every now and then the men see a giant cross sea heading towards them, and give a quick warning cry—"Hold on!" and the sea comes with a clean sweep over the boat, almost washing them out of her.

The steamer, as has been said, towed the life-boat well to windward, that she might have a fair wind before which to run in for the wreck, but as soon as the life-boat left the steamer, away she speeded round to the other side of the Sands, to leeward of the wreck, that the boat might again have a fair wind to her as she comes from the wreck, and she now lays to, awaiting the boat's return.

On she comes; the broken water is now passed; the air is full of scud and spray, but the cross seas overrun her no longer; she is in deep water, and the exhausted emigrants begin to raise their heads and look about them; they could not have endured that continual breaking of the waves and rush of water over them much longer; how their hearts lift with joy as they hear the cheering voices of the men, and have the lights of the steamer pointed out to them, shining bright and near!

Thus, with thirty women and children, their first sheave of the harvest to be gathered from death, the life-boat men run their boat alongside the Aid. The steamer is put athwart the seas, to form a break-water for the boat, which comes under her lee; the roll of the steamer, the pitching of the boat, the wild wind and sea, with the darkness of the night only faintly broken by the light of the steamer's lanterns, render it a somewhat difficult matter to get the women out of the boat. As the boat rises the men lift up a woman and steady her for a moment on the gunwale, two men on the steamer catch her by the arms as she comes up within reach, and she is dragged up the side on to the deck. There is here also no time for ceremony; a moment's hesitation, and the poor creature might have a limb crushed between the steamer and the boat. As each woman is thus got on deck, two men half lead half carry her to the cabin below.

One woman struggles to get back to the boat, crying for her child, the men do not understand her in the roar of the gale, and she is gently forced below; again the rolled-up blanket appears, it is handed into the steamer, and is about to be dropped upon the deck, when half-a-dozen voices shout out, "There is a baby in the blanket!" and it is carried down into the cabin, and received by the poor weeping mother with a great outburst of joy.

"God bless you! God bless you!" she exclaims to the man, and then blesses and praises God out of the abundant fulness of her heart.

Some of the poor women are completely overcome by the reaction which takes possession of them now that they find themselves in safety; they had been comparatively calm and resigned during their hours of hardship and danger; now they realise the nature of the peril to which they have been exposed, and in which many whom they love are still placed. Some throw themselves on the cabin floor, weeping and sobbing; some cling to the sailors, begging and entreating them to save their husbands and children who are on board the wreck; while others can do little else than offer up some simple form of prayer and praise to God.

Instantly that the boat is freed from her passengers she drops astern of the steamer, and is towed round the sands, to get again into position to make a second trip to the vessel; and when the straining cable is let go, and her sail hoisted, she heads round, gathers way, and bounds in like a greyhound through the troubled sea towards the wreck. A slant of wind comes and drives her from her course, and she fails in reaching the ship, and makes for the open water. The steamer speedily picks her up, tows her into a more favourable position, and the boat soon gets again alongside the vessel.