This plan, however, was not made practically useful until upwards of fifty years later, when twenty out of twenty-four men were lost by the upsetting of the non-self-righting lifeboat of South Shields. After the occurrence of that melancholy event, the late Duke of Northumberland—who for many years was one of the warmest supporters and patrons of the Lifeboat Institution—offered a prize of 100 pounds for the best self-righting lifeboat. It was gained by Mr Beeching, whose boat was afterwards considerably altered and improved by Mr Peak.
The self-emptying principle is of almost equal importance with the self-righting, for, in every case of putting off to a wreck, a lifeboat is necessarily filled again and again with water—sometimes overwhelmed by tons of it; and a boat full of water, however safe it may be, is necessarily useless. Six large holes in the bottom of the boat effect the discharge of water. There is an air-tight floor to the lifeboat, which is so placed that when the boat is fully manned and loaded with passengers it is a very little above the level of the sea. On this fact the acting of the principle depends. Between this floor and the bottom of the boat, a space of upwards of a foot in depth, there is some light ballast of cork or wood, and some parts of the space are left empty. The six holes above mentioned are tubes of six inches diameter, which extend from the floor through the bottom of the boat. Now, it is one of nature’s laws that water must find its level. For instance, take any boat and bore large holes in its bottom, and suppose it to be held up in its ordinary floating position, so that it cannot sink, then fill it suddenly quite full of water, it will be found that the water inside will run out until it is on a level with the water outside. Water poured into a lifeboat will of course act in the same way, but when that which has been poured into it reaches the level of the water outside, it has also reached the floor: in other words, there is no more water left to run out.
Such are the principal qualities of the splendid lifeboat now used on our coasts, and of which it may be said that it has almost reached the state of absolute perfection.
The Lifeboat Institution, which has been the means in God’s hands of saving so many thousands of human lives, is now in a high state of efficiency and of well-deserved prosperity; both of which conditions are due very largely to the untiring exertions and zeal of its present secretary, Richard Lewis, Esquire, of the Inner Temple. Success is not dependent on merit alone. Good though the lifeboat cause unquestionably is, we doubt whether the Institution would have attained its present high position so soon, had it not been guided thereto by the judicious management of its committee—the members of which bestow laborious and gratuitous service on its great and national work—aided by the able and learned secretary and an experienced inspector of lifeboats (Captain J.R. Ward, R.N.) both whose judgement and discretion have often been the themes of deserved praise by the public.
That the claims of the Institution are very strong must be admitted by all who reflect that during upwards of forty years it has been engaged in the grand work of saving human lives. Up to the present date, it has plucked 18,225 human beings from the waves, besides an incalculable amount of valuable property. It is a truly national blessing, and as such deserves the support of every man and woman in the kingdom. (See footnote.)
But, to return from this prolonged yet by no means unnecessary digression,—let us remind the reader that we left him at the meeting in the town-hall of Covelly, of which, however, we will only say further, that it was very enthusiastic and most successful. That the mayor, having been stirred in spirit by the secretary’s speech, redeemed himself by giving vent to a truly eloquent oration, and laying on the table a handsome contribution towards the funds of the Society. That many of the people present gladly followed his lead, and that the only interruption to the general harmony was the repeated attempts made by Mr Joseph Dowler—always out of order—to inflict himself upon the meeting; an infliction which the meeting persistently declined to permit!
Thereafter the new lifeboat was conveyed to its house on the shore, where, however, it had not rested many weeks before it was called into vigorous action.
For the sake of those who sympathise with us, and desire to give substantial evidence of their goodwill, we would suggest that contributions may be sent to the secretary, Richard Lewis, Esquire, 14 John Street, Adelphi, London.