Man on the Ocean: A Book about Boats and Ships

by R. M. Ballantyne

The accompanying sections of the lifeboat exhibit the position of the air-cases and discharging tubes. In Figure 1 the shaded parts give a side view of the air-cases. The line A A indicates the deck or floor, which lies a little above the level of the water when the boat is loaded; B B is the water-tight space containing ballast; C C C are three of the six discharging holes or tubes; the dotted line D D shows the level of the sea. Figure 2 gives a bird’s-eye view of the boat. The shaded parts indicate the air-cases; and the position of the six discharging tubes is more clearly shown than in Figure 1. There are three covered openings in the floor, which permit of a free circulation of air when the boat is not in use, and in one of these is a small pump to clear the ballast-space of leakage. It will be observed that the boat draws little water; in fact, there is much more of her above than below water, and she is dependent for stability on her great breadth of beam and her heavy keel.

These four qualities in the lifeboat are illustrated every year by many thrilling incidents of wreck and rescue. Let us glance at a few of these. First, then, as to the almost indestructible quality. Take the following evidence:—

On a terrible night in the year 1857 a Portuguese brig struck on the Goodwin Sands, not far from the lightship that marks the northern extremity of those fatal shoals. A shot was fired, and a rocket sent up from the lightship as a signal to the men on shore that a vessel had got upon the sands. No second signal was needed. Anxious eyes had been on the watch that night. Instantly the Ramsgate men jumped into their lifeboat, which lay alongside the pier. It was deadly work that had to be done,—the gale was one of the fiercest of the season,—nevertheless the gallant men were so eager to get into the boat that it was overmanned, and the last two who jumped in were obliged to go ashore. A small but powerful steamer is kept to attend upon this boat. In a few minutes it took her in tow and made for the mouth of the harbour.

They staggered out right in the teeth of tide and tempest, and ploughed their way through a heavy cross-sea that swept again and again over them, until they reached the edge of the Goodwins. Here the steamer cast off the boat, and waited for her, while she dashed into the surf and bore the brunt of the battle alone.

With difficulty the brig was found in the darkness. The lifeboat cast anchor when within about forty fathoms, and veered down under her lee. At first they were in hopes of getting the vessel off, and hours were spent in vain endeavours to do this. But the storm increased in fury; the brig began to break up; she rolled from side to side, and the yards swung wildly in the air. A blow from one of these yards would have stove the boat in, so the Portuguese crew—twelve men and a boy—were taken from the wreck, and the boatmen endeavoured to push off. All this time the boat had been floating in a basin worked in the sand by the motion of the wreck; but the tide had been falling, and when they tried to pull up to their anchor the boat struck heavily on the edge of this basin. The men worked to get off the shoals as only those can work whose lives depend on their efforts. They succeeded in getting afloat for a moment, but again struck and remained fast. Meanwhile the brig was lifted by each wave and let fall with a thundering crash; her timbers began to snap like pipe-stems, and as she worked nearer and nearer, it became evident that destruction was not far off.

The heavy seas caused by the increasing storm flew over the lifeboat, so that those in her could only hold on to the thwarts for their lives. At last the brig came so near that there was a stir among the men; they were preparing for the last struggle—some of them intending to leap into the rigging of the wreck and take their chance; but the coxswain shouted, “Stick to the boat, boys! stick to the boat!” and the men obeyed.

At that moment the boat lifted a little on the surf, and grounded again. New hope was infused by this.

The men pulled at the hawser, and shoved might and main with the oars. They succeeded in getting out of immediate danger, but still could not pull up to the anchor in teeth of wind and tide. The coxswain then saw plainly that there was but one resource left—to cut the cable and drive right across the Goodwin Sands. But there was not yet sufficient water on the Sands to float them over; so they held on, intending to ride at anchor until the tide, which had turned, should rise. Very soon, however, the anchor began to drag. This compelled them to hoist sail, cut the cable sooner than they had intended, and attempt to beat off the Sands. It was in vain. A moment more, and they struck with tremendous force. A breaker came rolling towards them, filled the boat, caught her up like a plaything on its crest, and, hurling her a few yards onwards, let her fall again with a shock that well-nigh tore every man out of her. Each successive breaker treated her in this way.