CHAPTER SIX.
DESCRIBES THE PRESENTATION OF A NEW LIFEBOAT TO COVELLY, AND TREATS OFTHE ROYAL NATIONAL LIFEBOAT INSTITUTION.
We must now change the scene, and beg our readers to accompany us oncemore to Covelly, where, not long after the events narrated in the lastchapter, an interesting ceremony was performed, which called out theinhabitants in vast numbers. This was the presentation of a newlifeboat to the town, and the rewarding of several men who had recentlybeen instrumental in saving life in circumstances of peculiar danger.
The weather was propitious. A bright sun and a calm sea rejoiced theeyes of the hundreds who had turned out to witness the launch. The oldboat, which had saved our heroine years before, and had rescued manymore since that day from the angry sea, was worn out, and had to bereplaced by one of the magnificent new boats built on the self-rightingprinciple, which had but recently been adopted by the LifeboatInstitution. A lady of the neighbourhood, whose only daughter had beensaved by the old boat some time before, had presented the purchase-moneyof the new one (400 pounds) to the Institution and, with thepromptitude which characterises all the movements of that Society, afine self-righting lifeboat, with all the latest improvements, had beensent at once to the port.
High on her carriage, in the centre of the town, the new lifeboatstood--gay and brilliant in her blue and white paint, the crew withtheir cork lifebelts on, and a brass band in front, ready to herald herprogress to the shore. The mayor of the town, with all the principalmen, headed the procession, and a vast concourse of people followed. Atthe shore the boat was named the _Rescue_ by the young lady whose lifehad been saved by the old one, and amid the acclamations of the vastmultitude, the noble craft was shot off her carriage into the calm sea,where she was rowed about for a considerable time, and very criticallyexamined by her crew; for, although the whole affair was holiday-work tomost of those who looked on, the character of the new boat was a matterof serious import to those who manned her, and who might be called on torisk their lives in her every time their shores should be lashed by astormy sea.
Our hero, Harry Boyns, held the steering oar. He had been appointed bythe parent Institution to the position of "Local Secretary of theCovelly Lifeboat Branch," and, of course, was anxious to know thequalities of his vessel.
Harry, we may remark in passing, having lost his situation, and findingthat his mother's health was failing, had made up his mind to stay onshore for a year or two, and seek employment in his native town. Beinga well-educated man, he obtained this in the office of a mercantilehouse, one of the partners of which was related to his mother.
The rowing powers of the new boat were soon tested. Then Harry steeredto the pier, where a tackle had been prepared for the purpose ofupsetting her. This was an interesting point in the proceedings,because few there had seen a self-righting boat, and, as usual, therewas a large sprinkling in the crowd of that class of human beings whomaintain the plausible, but false, doctrine, that "seeing is believing!"
Considerable difficulty was experienced in getting the boat to overturn.The operation was slowly accomplished; and all through there appearedto be an unwillingness on the part of the boat to upset!--a symptomwhich gave much satisfaction to her future crew, who stood ready on hergunwale to leap away from her. At last she was raised completely on oneside, then she balanced for a moment, and fell forward, keel up, with atremendous splash, while the men, not a moment too soon, sprang into thesea, and a wild cheer, mingled with laughter, arose from the spectators.
If the upsetting was slow and difficult, the self-righting was magicallyquick and easy. The boat went right round, and, almost before one couldrealise what had occurred, she was again on an even keel. Of course shewas nearly full of water at the moment of rising; but, in a few seconds,the discharging holes in her bottom had cleared the water completelyaway. The whole operation of self-righting and self-emptying, fromfirst to last, occupied only _seventeen seconds_! If there was laughtermingled with the shouts when she overturned and threw her crew into thesea, there was nothing but deep-toned enthusiasm in the prolonged cheerwhich hailed her on righting, for then it was fully realised, especiallyby seafaring men, what genuine and valuable qualities the boatpossessed, and the cheers became doubly enthusiastic when the crew,grasping the lifelines which were festooned round her sides, clamberedon board again, and were reseated at the oars in less than two minutesthereafter.
This done, the boat was hauled up on her carriage, and conveyed to thehouse near the beach which had been prepared for her reception, there towait, in constant readiness, until the storm should call her forth todisplay her peculiar qualities in actual service.
But another, and, if possible, a still more interesting ceremonyremained to be performed. This was the presentation of the gold andsilver medals of the Institution to several men of the town, who, in arecent storm, had rendered signal service in the saving of human life.
The zealous and indefatigable secretary of the Institution had himselfcome down from London to present these.
The presentation took place in the new town hall, a large buildingcapable of containing upwards of a thousand people, which, on theoccasion, was filled to overflowing.
The mayor presided, of course, and opened proceedings, as many chairmendo, by taking the wind out of the sails of the principal speaker! Thatis to say, he touched uninterestingly on each topic that was likely toengage the attention of the meeting, and stated many facts and figuresin a loose and careless way, which every one knew the secretary would,as a matter of course, afterwards state much better and more correctlythan himself. But the mayor was a respected, well-meaning man, and,although his speech was listened to with manifest impatience, hissitting down was hailed with rapturous applause.
At this point--the mayor having in his excitement forgotten to call uponthe secretary to speak--a stout man on the platform took advantage ofthe oversight and started to his feet, calling from a disgusted auditorthe expression, "Oh, there's that bore Dowler!" It was indeed that sameJoseph who had, on a memorable occasion long past, signed himself the"humble" friend of Mr Webster. Before a word could escape his lips,however, he was greeted with a storm of yells and obliged to sit down.But he did so under protest, and remained watchful for anotherfavourable opportunity of breaking in. Dowler never knew when he was"out of order;" he never felt or believed himself to be "out of order!"In fact, he did not know what "out of order" meant _when applied tohimself_. He was morally a rhinoceros. He could not be shamed bydisapprobation could not be cowed by abuse; never was put out bynoise--although he frequently was by the police; nor put down byreason--though he sometimes was by force; spoke everywhere, on allsubjects, against the opinions (apparently) of everybody; and lived alife of perpetual public martyrdom and protest.
Silence having been obtained, the secretary of the Lifeboat Institutionrose, and, after a few complimentary remarks on the enthusiasm in thegood cause shown by the town, and especially by the lady who hadpresented the boat, he called Captain Harry Boyns to the platform, andpresented him with the gold medal of the Institution in an able speech,wherein he related the special act of gallantry for which it wasawarded--telling how that, during a terrible gale, on a dark night inDecember, the gallant young captain, happening to walk homewards alongthe cliffs, observed a vessel on the rocks, not twenty yards from theland, with the green seas making clean breaches over her; and how that--knowing the tide was rising, and that before he could run to the town,three miles distant, for assistance, the vessel would certainly bedashed to pieces--he plunged into the surf, at the imminent risk of hislife, swam to the vessel, and returned to the shore with a rope, bywhich means a hawser was fixed to the cliffs, and thirty-nine lives wererescued from the sea!
Well did every one present know the minute details of the heroic deedreferred to, but they were glad to hear the praises of their townsmanre-echoed by one who thoroughly understood the merits of the case, andwhose comments thereon brought out more clearly to the minds of many the
extent of the danger which the gallant captain had run, so that, whenHarry stepped forward to receive the medal, he was greeted with the mostenthusiastic cheers. Thereafter, the secretary presented silver medalsto two fishermen of the Cove, namely, Old Jacobs and Robert Gaston, bothof whom had displayed unusual daring at the rescue of the young lady whowas the donor of the lifeboat. He then touched on the value oflifeboats in general, and gave an interesting account of the origin ofthe Society which he represented; but as this subject deserves somewhatspecial treatment, we shall turn aside from the thread of our tale for alittle, to regard the Work and the Boats of the Royal National LifeboatInstitution, assuring our reader that the subject is well worthy theearnest consideration of all men.
The first lifeboat ever launched upon the stormy sea was planned andbuilt by a London coach-builder, named Lionel Lukin, who took out apatent for it in November 1785, and launched it at Bamborough, where itwas the means of saving many lives the first year. Although Lukin thusdemonstrated the possibility of lives being saved by a boat which couldlive under circumstances that would have proved fatal to ordinary boats,he was doomed to disappointment. The Prince of Wales (George theFourth) did indeed befriend him, but the Lords of Admiralty were deaf,and the public were indifferent. Lukin went to his grave unrewarded byman, but stamped with a nobility which can neither be gifted norinherited, but only won--the nobility which attaches to the character of"national benefactor."
The public were aroused from their apathy in 1789 by the wreck of the_Adventure_ of Newcastle, the crew of which perished in the presence ofthousands, who could do nothing to save them. Models of lifeboats weresolicited, and premiums offered for the best. Among those whoresponded, William Wouldhave, a painter, and Henry Greathead, aboat-builder of South Shields, stood pre-eminent. The latter afterwardsbecame a noted builder and improver of lifeboats, and was well anddeservedly rewarded for his labours. In 1803 Greathead had builtthirty-one boats--eighteen for England, five for Scotland, and eight forother countries. This was, so far, well, but it was a wretchedlyinadequate provision for the necessities of the case. It was not until1822 that a great champion of the lifeboat cause stood forth in theperson of Sir William Hillary, Baronet.
Sir William, besides being a philanthropist, was a hero! He not onlydevised liberal things and carried them into execution, but hepersonally shared in the danger of rescuing life from the sea. He dwelton the shores of the Isle of Man, where he established a Sailors' Homeat Douglas. He frequently embarked in the boats that went off to rescuelives from the wrecks that were constantly occurring on the island.Once he had his ribs broken in this service, and was frequently inimminent danger of being drowned. During his career he personallyassisted in the saving of 305 human lives! He was the means of stirringup public men, and the nation generally, to a higher sense of their dutytowards those who, professionally and otherwise, risk their lives uponthe sea; and eventually, in conjunction with two Members of Parliament--Mr Thomas Wilson and Mr George Herbert--was the founder of "THE ROYALNATIONAL INSTITUTION FOR THE PRESERVATION OF LIFE FROM SHIPWRECK." ThisInstitution--now named THE ROYAL NATIONAL LIFEBOAT INSTITUTION--wasfounded on the 24th of March 1824, and has gone on progressively, doingits noble work of creating and maintaining a lifeboat fleet, rescuingthe shipwrecked, and rewarding the rescuers, from that day to this.When life does not require to be saved, and when opportunity offers, theSociety allows its boats to save _property_, of which we shall havesomething more to say presently.
At the founding of the Institution in 1824, the Archbishop of Canterburyof the day filled the chair; the great Wilberforce, Lord John Russell,and other magnates, were present; the Dukes of Kent, Sussex, and othermembers of the Royal family, became vice-patrons; the Duke ofNorthumberland its vice-president, and George the Fourth its patron. In1850 the much-lamented Prince Albert--whose life was a continual goingabout doing good--became its vice-patron, and Her Majesty the Queenbecame, and still continues, a warm supporter and an annual contributor.
Now, this is a splendid array of names and titles; but it ought ever tobe borne in remembrance that the Institution is dependent for itscontinued existence on the public--on you and me, good reader--for it issupported almost entirely by voluntary contributions. That it willalways find warm hearts to pray for it, and open hands to give, as longas its boats continue, year by year, to pluck men, women, and childrenfrom the jaws of death, and give them back to gladdened hearts on shore,is made very apparent from the records published quarterly in _TheLifeboat Journal_ of the Society, a work full of interestinginformation. Therein we find that the most exalted contributor is QueenVictoria--the lowliest, a sailor's orphan child!
Here are a few of the gifts to the Institution selected very much atrandom:--One gentleman leaves it a legacy of 10,000 pounds. Some timeago a sum of 5000 pounds was sent anonymously by "a friend." Therecomes 100 pounds as a second donation from a sailor's daughter, and 50pounds from a British admiral. Five shillings are sent as "the savingsof a child"; 1 shilling, 6 pence from another little child, inpostage-stamps; 15 pounds from "three fellow-servants"; 10 pounds from"a shipwrecked pilot," and 10 shillings 6 pence from "an old salt."Indeed, we can speak from personal experience on this subject, because,among others, we received a letter, one day, in a cramped and peculiarhand, which we perused with deep interest, for it had been written by a_blind_ youth, whose eyes, nevertheless, had been thoroughly opened tosee the great importance of the lifeboat cause, for he had collected 100pounds for the Institution! On another occasion, at the close of alecture on the subject, an old woman, who appeared to be among thepoorest of the classes who inhabit the old town of Edinburgh, came to usand said, "Hae, there's tippence for the lifeboat!"
It cannot be doubted that these sums, and many, many others that arepresented annually, are the result of moral influences which elevate thesoul, and which are indirectly caused by the lifeboat service. Wetherefore hold that the Institution ought to be regarded as a prolificcause of moral good to the nation. And, while we are on this subject,it may be observed that our lifeboat influence for good on other nationsis very considerable. In proof of this we cite the following facts:--Finland sends 50 pounds to our Institution to testify its appreciationof the good done by us to its sailors and shipping. The late PresidentLincoln of the United States, while involved in all the anxieties of thegreat civil war, found time to send 100 pounds to our LifeboatInstitution, in acknowledgement of the services rendered to Americanships in distress. Russia and Holland send naval men to inspect ourlifeboat management. France, in generous emulation of ourselves, startsa Lifeboat Institution of its own; and last, but not least, it has beensaid, that "foreigners know when they are wrecked on the shores ofBritain by the persevering and noble efforts that are made to save theirlives!"
But there are some minds which do not attach much value to moralinfluence, and to which material benefit is an all-powerful argument.Well, then, to these we would address ourselves, but, in passing, wouldremark that moral influence goes far to secure for us materialadvantage. It is just because so many hundreds of human living soulsare annually preserved to us that men turn with glowing gratitude to therescuers and to the Institution which organises and utilises the latentphilanthropy and pluck of our coast heroes. On an average, 800 livesare saved _every year_; while, despite our utmost efforts, 600 are lost.Those who know anything about our navy, and our want of British seamento man our ships, cannot fail to see that the saving of so many valuablelives is a positive material benefit to the nation. But to descend tothe lowest point, we maintain that the value of the lifeboats to thenation, in the mere matter of saving property, is almost incredible. Inregard to these things, it is possible to speak definitely.
For instance, during stormy weather, it frequently happens that vesselsshow signals of distress, either because they are so badly strained asto be in a sinking condition, or so damaged that they are unmanageable,or the crews have become so exhausted as to be no longer capable ofworking for their own pr
eservation. In such cases, the lifeboat putsoff with the intention, _in the first instance_, of saving _life_. Itreaches the vessel in distress; the boat's crew spring on board andfind, perhaps, that there is some hope of saving the ship. Knowing thelocality well, they steer her clear of rocks and shoals. Being freshand vigorous, they work the pumps with a will, manage to keep herafloat, and finally steer her into port, thus saving ship and cargo aswell as crew.
Now, let it be observed that what we have here supposed is notimaginary--it is not even of rare occurrence. It happens every year.Last year thirty-eight ships were thus saved by lifeboats. The yearbefore, twenty-eight were saved. The year before that, seventeen.Before that, twenty-one. As surely and regularly as the year comesround, so surely and regularly are ships and property thus saved _to thenation_.
It cannot be too well understood that a wrecked ship is not only anindividual, but a national loss. Insurance protects the individual, butinsurance cannot, in the nature of things, protect the nation. If youdrop a thousand sovereigns in the street, that is a loss to _you_, butnot to the _nation_. Some lucky individual will find the money andcirculate it. But if you drop it in the sea, it is lost, not only toyou, but to the nation to which you belong--ay, lost to the world itselffor ever! If a lifeboat, therefore, saves a ship worth 1000 pounds fromdestruction, it literally presents that sum as a free gift to thenation. We say a free gift, because the lifeboats are supported for thepurpose of saving life, not property.
A few remarks on the value of loaded ships will throw additional lighton this subject, and make more apparent the value of the LifeboatInstitution. Take, first, the case of a ship which was actually savedby a lifeboat. She was a large Spanish ship, which grounded on a bankoff the south coast of Ireland. The captain and crew forsook her, andescaped to shore in their boats, but one man was inadvertently left onboard. Soon after, the wind moderated and shifted, the ship slipped offthe bank into deep water, and drifted to the northward. The crew of the_Cahore_ lifeboat were on the look-out, observed the vessel passing,launched their boat, and after a long pull against wind and sea, boardedthe vessel, and rescued the Spanish sailor. But they did more. Findingseven feet of water in the hold, they rigged the pumps, trimmed thesails, carried the ship into port, and handed her over to an agent forthe owners. This vessel and cargo were valued at 20,000 pounds, and wethink we are justified in saying that England, through theinstrumentality of her Lifeboat Institution, presented that handsome sumto Spain upon that occasion!
But many ships are much more costly than that was. Some time ago a shipnamed the _Golden Age_ was lost upon our shores; it was valued at200,000 pounds. If that single ship had been one of the thirty-eightsaved last year (and it might have been), the sum thus saved to thenation would have been more than sufficient to buy up all the lifeboatsin the kingdom twice over! But that ship was not amongst the saved. Itwas lost. So was the _Ontario_ of Liverpool, which was wrecked inOctober 1864, and valued at 100,000 pounds. Also the _Assaye_, wreckedon the Irish coast, and valued at 200,000 pounds. Here are 500,000pounds lost for ever by the wreck of these three ships alone in oneyear! Do you know, reader, what such sums represent? Are you awarethat the value of the _Ontario_ alone is equal to the income for oneyear of the London Missionary Society, wherewith it supports itsinstitutions at home and abroad, and spreads the blessed knowledge ofgospel truth over a vast portion of the globe?
But we have only spoken of three ships--no doubt three of the largestsize--yet only three of the lost. Couple the above figures with thefact that the number of ships lost, or seriously damaged, _every year_,on the shores of the United Kingdom is above _two thousand_, and youwill have some idea of one of the reasons why taxation is so heavy; andif you couple them with the other fact, that, from twenty to thirtyships, great and small, are saved by lifeboats every year, you willperceive that, whatever amount may be given to the Lifeboat Institution,it gives back to the nation _far more_ than it receives in _materialwealth_, not to mention human lives at all.
Its receipts in 1868 from all sources were 31,668 pounds, and itsexpenditure 31,585 pounds. The lives saved by its own boats last yearwere 603, in addition to which other 259 were saved by shore boats, forwhich the Institution rewarded the crews with thirteen medals, and moneyto the extent of above 6573 pounds, for all services.
The Lifeboat Institution has a little sister, whom it would be unjust,as well as ungracious, not to introduce in passing, namely, theSHIPWRECKED MARINERS' SOCIETY. They do their blessed work hand in hand.Their relative position may be simply stated thus:--The LifeboatInstitution saves life. Having dragged the shipwrecked sailor from thesea, its duty is done. It hands him over to the agent of theShipwrecked Mariners' Society, who takes him by the hand, sees himhoused, warmed, clad and fed, and sends him home rejoicing, free ofexpense, and with a little cash in his pocket. Formerly, shipwreckedsailors had to beg their way to their homes. At first they weresympathised with and well treated. Thereupon uprose a host ofcounterfeits. The land was overrun by shipwrecked-mariner-beggars, andas people of the interior knew not which was which, poor shipwreckedJack often suffered because of these vile impostors. But now there isnot a port in the kingdom without its agent of the Society. Jack has,therefore, no need to beg his way. "The world" knows this; the deceiverknows it too, therefore his occupation is gone! Apart from itsbenignant work, the mere fact that the "little sister" has swept suchvagrants off the land entitles her to a strong claim on our gratitude.She, also, is supported by voluntary contributions.
Turning now to another branch of our subject, let us regard for a littlethe boats of the Lifeboat Institution.
"What is a lifeboat? Wherein does it differ from other boats?" arequestions sometimes put. Let us attempt a brief reply.
A lifeboat--that is to say, the present lifeboat--differs from all otherboats in four particulars:--1. It is _almost_ indestructible. 2. It isinsubmergible. 3. It is self-righting. 4. It is self-emptying. Inother words, it can hardly be destroyed; it cannot be sunk; it rightsitself if upset; it empties itself if filled. Let us illustrate thesepoints in succession. Here is evidence on the first point.
On a terrible night in 1857 a Portuguese brig struck on the GoodwinSands. The noble, and now famous, Ramsgate lifeboat was at once towedout when the signal-rocket from the lightship was seen, indicating "awreck on the sands." A terrific battle with the winds and waves ensued.At length the boat was cast off to windward of the sands, and bore downon the brig through the shoal water, which tossed her like a cork on itsraging surface. They reached the brig and lay by her for some time inthe hope of getting her off, but failed. The storm increased, thevessel began to break up, so her crew were taken into the boat, which--having previously cast anchor to windward of the wreck, and eased offthe cable until it got under her lee--now tried to pull back to itsanchor. Every effort was fruitless, owing to the shifting nature of thesands and the fury of the storm. At last nothing was left for it but tohoist the sail, cut the cable, and make a desperate effort to beat offthe sands. In this also they failed; were caught on the crest of abreaking roller, and borne away to leeward. Water and wind in wildestcommotion were comparatively small matters to the lifeboat, but want ofwater was a serious matter. The tide happened to be out. The sandswere only partially covered, and over them the breakers swept in achaotic seething turmoil that is inconceivable by those who have notwitnessed it. Every one has seen the ripples on the seashore when thetide is out. On the Goodwins these ripples are great banks, to bemeasured by yards instead of inches. From one to another of thesesand-banks this boat was cast. Each breaker caught her up, hurled heronward a few yards, and let her down with a crash that well-nigh toreevery man out of her, leaving her there a few moments, to be caught upagain and made sport with by the next billow. The Portuguese sailors,eighteen in number, clung to the thwarts in silent despair, but the crewof the boat did not lose heart. They knew her splendid qualities, andhoped that, if they should only escape being
dashed against the portionsof wreck which strewed the sands, all might yet be well. Thus,literally fathom by fathom, with a succession of shocks that would haveknocked any ordinary boat to pieces, was this magnificent lifeboatdriven, during two hours in the dead of night, over two miles of theGoodwin Sands! At last she drove into deep water on the other side; thesails were set, and soon after, through God's mercy, the rescued menwere landed safely in Ramsgate Harbour. So, we repeat, the lifeboat isalmost indestructible.
That she is insubmergible has been proved by what has already beenwritten, and our space forbids giving further illustration, but a wordabout the cause of this quality is necessary. Her floating power is dueto _air-chambers_ fitted round the sides under the seats and in the bowand stern; also to empty space and light wood or cork ballast under herfloor. If thrust forcibly deep under water with as many persons in heras could be stowed away, she would, on being released, rise again to thesurface like a cork.
The self-righting principle is one of the most important qualities ofthe lifeboat. However good it may be in other respects, a boat withoutthis quality is a lifeboat only so long as it maintains its properposition on the water. If upset it is no better than any other boat.It is true that, great stability being one of the lifeboat's qualities,such boats are not easily overturned. Nevertheless they sometimes areso, and the results have been on several occasions disastrous. Witnessthe case of the Liverpool boat, which in January 1865 upset, and thecrew of seven men were drowned. Also the Point of Ayr lifeboat, whichupset when under sail at a distance from the land, and her crew,thirteen in number, were drowned. Two or three of the poor fellows wereseen clinging to the keel for twenty minutes, but no assistance could berendered. Now, both of these were considered good lifeboats, but theywere _not self-righting_. Numerous cases might be cited to prove theinferiority of the non-self-righting boats, but one more will suffice.In February 1858 the Southwold boat--a large sailing boat, esteemed oneof the finest in the kingdom, but _not_ self-righting--went out forexercise, and was running before a heavy surf with all sail set, whenshe suddenly ran on the top of a sea, broached-to and upset. The crewin this case being near shore, and having on cork lifebelts, wererescued, but three gentlemen who had gone off in her without lifebeltswere drowned. This case, and the last, occurred in broad daylight.
In contrast to these we give an instance of the action of theself-righting lifeboat when overturned. It occurred on a dark stormynight in October 1858. On that night a wreck took place off the coastnear Dungeness, three miles from shore. The small lifeboat belonging tothat place put off to the rescue. Eight stout men of the coastguardcomposed her crew. She belonged to the National Lifeboat Institution--all the boats of which are now built on the self-righting principle.The wreck was reached soon after midnight, and found to have beendeserted by her crew; the boat therefore returned to the shore. Whilecrossing a deep channel between two shoals she was caught up and struckby three heavy seas in succession. The coxswain lost command of therudder, and she was carried away before a sea, broached to and upset,throwing the men out of her. Immediately she righted herself, clearedherself of water, and the anchor having fallen out she was brought up byit. The crew, meanwhile, having on lifebelts, regained the boat, gotinto her by means of the lifelines hung round her sides, cut the cable,and returned to the shore in safety!
The means by which the self-righting is accomplished are--two largeair-cases, one in the bow, the other in the stern, and a heavy ironkeel. These air-cases are rounded on the top and raised so high that aboat, bottom up, resting on them, would be raised almost quite out ofthe water. Manifestly, to rest on these pivots is an impossibility; theoverturned boat _must_ fall on its side, in which position the heavyiron keel comes into play and drags the bottom down, thus placing theboat violently and quickly in her proper position. The simple plan heredescribed was invented by the Reverend James Bremner, of Orkney, andexhibited at Leith, near Edinburgh, in the year 1800. Mr Bremner'saircases were empty casks in the bow and stern, and his ballast wasthree hundredweight of iron attached to the keel.
This plan, however, was not made practically useful until upwards offifty years later, when twenty out of twenty-four men were lost by theupsetting of the _non-self-righting_ lifeboat of South Shields. Afterthe occurrence of that melancholy event, the late Duke ofNorthumberland--who for many years was one of the warmest supporters andpatrons of the Lifeboat Institution--offered a prize of 100 pounds forthe best self-righting lifeboat. It was gained by Mr Beeching, whoseboat was afterwards considerably altered and improved by Mr Peak.
The self-emptying principle is of almost equal importance with theself-righting, for, in every case of putting off to a wreck, a lifeboatis necessarily filled again and again with water--sometimes overwhelmedby tons of it; and a boat full of water, however safe it may be, isnecessarily useless. Six large holes in the bottom of the boat effectthe 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 withpassengers it is _a very little above the level of the sea_. On thisfact the acting of the principle depends. Between this floor and thebottom of the boat, a space of upwards of a foot in depth, there is somelight ballast of cork or wood, and some parts of the space are leftempty. The six holes above mentioned are tubes of six inches diameter,which extend from the floor through the bottom of the boat. Now, it isone 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 beheld up in its _ordinary_ floating position, so that it cannot sink,then fill it suddenly quite full of water, it will be found that thewater _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 sameway, but when that which has been poured into it reaches the level ofthe 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 onour coasts, and of which it may be said that it has almost reached thestate of absolute perfection.
The Lifeboat Institution, which has been the means in God's hands ofsaving so many thousands of human lives, is now in a high state ofefficiency and of well-deserved prosperity; both of which conditions aredue very largely to the untiring exertions and zeal of its presentsecretary, Richard Lewis, Esquire, of the Inner Temple. Success is notdependent on merit alone. Good though the lifeboat cause unquestionablyis, we doubt whether the Institution would have attained its presenthigh position so soon, had it not been guided thereto by the judiciousmanagement of its committee--the members of which bestow laborious andgratuitous service on its great and national work--aided by the able andlearned secretary and an experienced inspector of lifeboats (CaptainJ.R. Ward, R.N.) both whose judgement and discretion have often been thethemes of deserved praise by the public.
That the claims of the Institution are very strong must be admitted byall who reflect that during upwards of forty years it has been engagedin the grand work of saving human lives. Up to the present date, it hasplucked 18,225 human beings from the waves, besides an incalculableamount of valuable property. It is a truly national blessing, and assuch deserves the support of every man and woman in the kingdom. (Seefootnote.)
But, to return from this prolonged yet by no means unnecessarydigression,--let us remind the reader that we left him at the meeting inthe 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, redeemedhimself by giving vent to a truly eloquent oration, and laying on thetable a handsome contribution towards the funds of the Society. Thatmany of the people present gladly followed his lead, and that the onlyinterruption to the general harmony was the repeated attempts made byMr Joseph Dowler--always out of order--to inflict himself upon themeeting; an infliction which the meeting persistently declined topermit!
Thereafter the new li
feboat was conveyed to its house on the shore,where, however, it had not rested many weeks before it was called intovigorous action.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
For the sake of those who sympathise with us, and desire to givesubstantial evidence of their goodwill, we would suggest thatcontributions may be sent to the secretary, Richard Lewis, Esquire, 14John Street, Adelphi, London.