CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.
THE STORM AND THE WRECK.
Guy Foster, clad in a sou'-wester hat and oilskin coat, stood at the endof the pier of Ramsgate Harbour, with his sweet wife, Lucy, clinging tohis arm, and a sturdy boy of about four years old, holding on with onehand to the skirts of his coat, and with the other grasping the sleeveof his silver-haired grandsire, Mr Burton.
It was night, and a bitter gale was blowing from the north-east,accompanied by occasional showers, of sleet. Crowds of seamen andothers stood on the pier eagerly watching the lifeboat, which was beinggot ready to put off to sea.
"It is too cold for you, darling," said Guy, as he felt Lucy's armtremble.
"Oh no! I should like to stay," said Lucy, anxiously. Just then atremendous wave burst on the massive stone pier, and a shower of sprayfell upon the crowd. Lucy and her companions received a copious shareof it.
"You are wet through, dear, and so is Charlie," said Guy,remonstratively.
"Well, I will go home, but you must come with us, papa. Guy wants toremain, I know."
The missionary gave his daughter his arm, and led her away, while Guy,pushing through the crowd, soon stood beside the lifeboat, the crew ofwhich, already encased in their cork life-belts, were hastily takingtheir places.
"There goes another rocket," cried one of those on the look-out; "it'sfrom the North-s'n'-Head light."
"Look alive, lads," cried the coxswain of the boat, more to relieve hisfeelings than to hurry the men, who were already doing their best.
The shrill note of a steam-whistle was heard at this moment, itspiercing sound rising high above the shriek of the gale and the roaringof the sea. It was a signal from the steam-tug appointed to attend onthe lifeboat, and told that steam was up and all ready to put to sea.
Put to sea on such a night! with the waves bursting in thunder on theshore, the foam seething like milk beneath, the wind shrieking like tenthousand fiends above, and the great billows lifting up their heads, asthey came rolling in from the darkness of Erebus that lay incumbent onthe raging sea beyond.
Ay, a landsman might have said "madness" with reason. Even a seamanmight have said that without much apparent impropriety. But the boatmenof Ramsgate held a different opinion! The signal gun had been fired,the rocket had gone up, a wreck was known to be on the fatal GoodwinSands, and they were as eager to face the storm as if encounteringdanger and facing death were pleasant pastime.
As the oars were about to be shipped, one of the crew stumbled, andstruck his head so violently against the bollard, that he fell stunnedinto the bottom of the boat. Guy saw the accident as he stood on theedge of the pier. A sudden impulse seized him. At one bound he passedfrom the pier to the boat, which was already some half-dozen feet away,and took the seat and oar of the injured man. In the confusion anddarkness, the others thought he was one of the supernumerary boatmen,and took no further notice of him. The boat was shoved back, thelife-jacket was transferred to Guy, and the boatman was put ashore.
A few strokes brought the boat alongside the steam-tug.
"Heave the warp! make fast! all right, steam a-head!"
The whistle shrieked again, the warp tautened, and tug and lifeboat madefor the mouth of the harbour. As they passed out an inspiring cheer wasgiven by the crowd, and a rocket streamed up from the pier-head tosignal the lightship that assistance was on the way.
The lifeboat which thus gallantly put off to the rescue in a storm sowild that no ordinary boat could have faced it for a moment withoutbeing swamped, was a celebrated one which had recently been invented andplaced at this station--where it still lies, and may be recognised byits white sides and peculiar build.
Its history is interesting. In the year 1851 the Duke ofNorthumberland, then president of the Lifeboat Institution, offered aprize of 100 pounds for the best model of a lifeboat. The result wasthat 280 models and plans were sent to Somerset House for examination.The prize was awarded to Mr James Beeching, boat-builder at GreatYarmouth, who was ordered to construct a boat, after the pattern of hismodel, 36 feet long, with 12 oars.
The boat was built, and was found to be the most perfect of its kindthat had ever been launched. It was the first self-righting boat everconstructed.
The three great points to be attained in the construction of a lifeboatare: buoyancy, the power of righting itself if upset, and the power ofemptying itself if filled with water. Up to this date the lifeboats ofthe kingdom were possessed of only the first quality. They could not besunk; that was all. Of course that was a great deal, but it was farfrom sufficient. Mr Beeching's boat united all three qualities.
Its self-righting principle was effected by means of two raisedair-cases, one at the stem, the other at the stern, and a heavy metalkeel. When overturned, the boat attempted, as it were, to rest on itstwo elevated cases, but these, being buoyant, resisted this effort, andturned the boat over on its side; the action being further assisted bythe heavy keel, which had a tendency to drag the bottom downwards. Thusthe upper part of the boat was raised by one action, and the bottom partdepressed by the other, the result being that the boat righted itselfimmediately. In fact, its remaining in an inverted position was animpossibility.
The self-emptying principle was accomplished by the introduction of sixself-acting valves into the bottom of the boat, through which the water,when shipped, ran back into the sea! When we first heard of this wewere puzzled, reader, as doubtless you are, for it occurred to us thatany hole made in a boat's bottom would inevitably let water in insteadof out! The difficulty was cleared up when we saw the model.Beeching's boat had a double floor, the upper one raised to a littleabove the level of the sea. The escapes were short metal pipes, theupper openings of which were fitted into holes in the upper floor. Thelower ends passed through the bottom of the boat. The valves of the topopened downward, but could not be opened upwards, so that the rushing ofthe sea into the pipes from below was checked, but the rushing in of thesea from above pressed the valves open, and allowed the water to runout, in accordance with the well-known law that water must find its_level_. Thus, the _upper_ floor being above the _level_ of the sea,all the water ran out.
Boats on this principle, modified in some of the details by Mr Peake,of Her Majesty's dockyard at Woolwich, are now adopted by the LifeboatInstitution. They right themselves in less than a minute, and freethemselves of water in about the same time.
Besides the above advantages, Mr Beeching's boat was fitted with theusual air-cases round the sides, and with a thick stripe of cork outsidethe gunwale; also with lines hanging over the sides in festoons, so thatany one in the water, using them as stirrups, might get into the boatwith ease. She was further provided with an anchor and cable; withstrong but light lines attached to grappling irons at the bow and stern,which, when thrown into the rigging or upon a wreck, might fastenthemselves to the ship and retain the boat without any other aid; alsowith a life-buoy, and a lantern for night work, besides numerous smallarticles.
This boat was purchased by the Harbour Commissioners of Ramsgate, andanchored close to the pier, in connexion with a powerful steam-tug (thefires of which were never allowed to die down), ready at any moment tofly to the rescue, on the signal of distress being given. This is theboat whose splendid deeds have so frequently of late drawn the attentionand compelled the admiration of the whole country; and it was this boatthat issued from Ramsgate harbour on the wild night referred to at thebeginning of this chapter.
Both tide and wind were dead against them as they issued from theshelter of the pier and met the storm, but the steamer was verypowerful; it buffeted the billows bravely, and gradually gained theneighbourhood of the Sands, where the breakers and cross seas beat sofuriously that their noise, mingled with the blast, created a din whichcan only be described as a prolonged and hideous roar.
The night was extremely dark, and bitterly cold. Heavy seas continuallyburst over the steamer's bulwarks, and swept her deck from stem tostern. The little lifeboa
t, far astern, was dragged by the stronghawser through a wild turmoil of water and spray. The men nestlingunder the gunwales clung to the thwarts and maintained their position,although sea after sea broke over them and well nigh washed them out.
At length they reached the light-ship; hailed her and were told that thewreck was on a high part of the shingles, bearing north-west from thelight. Away they went in that direction, but, being unable to find her,made their way to the Prince's light-ship, where they were told therewas a large ship on the Girdler. Once more they steamed in thedirection indicated, and soon discovered the wreck by the tar-barrelswhich she was burning. Just as they sighted her an enormous sea brokeover the steamer with such violence as to stop her way for a moment, andcause her strong frame to quiver.
"Look out, lads!" cried the coxswain of the lifeboat, as the black waterloomed up between them and the tug.
The men grasped the thwarts more firmly as a tremendous sea filled theboat to the gunwale. At this moment the checked steamer again leaped onher way; the stout hawser parted like a piece of twine, and the lifeboatwas left behind. Hoisting the corner of its small sail they made forthe wreck. No time was lost in bailing, as would have been the casewith the boats of former years; a few seconds sufficed to empty her.
The wind was now blowing a complete hurricane with a terrific sea on,the horrors of which were increased by the darkness of the night, sothat it was with the utmost difficulty they succeeded in gettingalongside. The wreck was a coasting vessel with a crew of eighteen men.There were no women or children, so they were got into the boat withoutmuch loss of time, and safely conveyed to the tug which lay to for herlittle consort, about three-quarters of a mile off.
The lifeboat was again taken in tow, and they proceeded together towardsRamsgate, when another gun and signal-rocket recalled them to continuetheir arduous duties.
The sleet of a winter's night beat furiously in the faces of theseboatmen, as already much exhausted, they once again faced the storm.But the streaming rocket and the signal-gun seemed to infuse new lifeand vigour into their hardy frames. Out to sea they went again, and,having approached as near as they dared to the breakers, worked theirway along the edge of the Sands, keeping a bright look-out for thevessel in distress. Up and down they cruised, but nothing could be seenof her.
At last, on the eastern side of the Sands, they descried a large shiplooming against the dark sky.
"There she is!" shouted the coxswain.
The hawser was slipt, and the boat, detached from her bulky companion,pushed into the very vortex of the breakers.
To say that no other boat could have lived in such a sea, would conveybut a faint notion of the powers of this boat. Any _one_ of thedeluging billows that again and again overwhelmed her would have swampedthe best and largest boat that was ever launched, and, although the oldlifeboats might have floated, they certainly could not have made muchprogress in such a sea, owing to the difficulty of getting rid of thewater. But the Ramsgate boat was empty a few seconds after beingfilled. The men had to take no thought as to this, except to see to itthat they should not be washed out of her.
On getting alongside, they found the wreck to be a very large ship. Itsblack hull towered high above them, and the great yards swayed withfearful violence over their heads. A single glance showed that she wascrowded with men and women.
The grapnels were thrown, and Guy starting up, seized the immenseboat-hook, used by lifeboats, and stood ready to hook on to the rigging.He succeeded in fixing the hook, but a violent lurch of the ship torethe handle out of his grasp and cast him into the bottom of the boat.Just then a man was seen to run out on the main-yard, and slip down by arope close to the sea. The boat sheered up towards him, and severalarms were stretched out to save; but the boat glided away and thesucceeding wave engulfed him. Only for a second however. When itpassed the man was still seen clinging to the rope; the boat once againsheered up so close that he was induced to let go his hold. He droppedinto the sea close alongside, caught one of the life-lines, and nextinstant was in the boat.
"All right! Give me the boat-hook," he cried, seizing the handle as hespoke, and affixing it with the strength of a giant to the chains of theship.
The tone of this man's voice thrilled to Guy's heart. He sprang forwardand seized him by the arm. One glance was sufficient.
"Bax!"
"Guy!"
There was no time for more. The astonishment of both was extreme, asmay well be supposed, and that of Guy was much increased when he heardanother familiar voice shout--
"All right, Bax?"
"All right, Tommy; let them look alive with the women and children; getup a light if you can." There were others in the lifeboat whorecognised these voices, but life and death were trembling in thebalance at that moment; they dared not unbend their attention from theone main object for an instant.
Some one in the "Trident" (for it was indeed that ill-fated ship) seemedto have anticipated Bax's wish. Just as he spoke, a torch made of tarand oakum was lighted, and revealed the crowded decks, the raging seathat sought to swallow them up, and the lifeboat surging violentlyalongside. It was an appalling scene: the shrieks of the women andchildren, mingled with the howling wind, the rush of the waves on theship's side, and the shouting of men, created a din so horrible thatmany a stout heart quailed. Fortunately the men who were the mostactive in the work of saving others were so taken up with what they wereabout, that there was no room for thought of personal danger.
The first human being placed in the boat was a little child. Itsmother, despairing of being saved herself, pressed through the crowd,held her little one over the side, and cried out "Save my child!" Baxleaped on the air-chamber at the bow of the boat, and grasping theshoulder of a boatman with one hand, stretched out the other towards thechild; but the boat swooped forward and brought him close under thechains, where a sailor held a woman suspended in his arm, ready to dropher into the boat when it should come close alongside. It did not,however, approach sufficiently near. The next wave carried them back,and enabled Bax to seize the child and lay it in a place of safety. Themother was soon beside it, and in a short time the boat was quitefilled.
Bax then leaped into the mizzen-chains, the lifeboat pushed off, andconveyed her cargo to the steam-tug. They took off 25 women andchildren the first trip. The steamer then towed the boat into position,to enable her again to make straight for the wreck. By this means muchvaluable time was saved, and more trips were made than could have beenaccomplished in the time by any lifeboat without the aid of a steamer.
All the women and children, and some of the male passengers, had beensafely conveyed to the tug, when an accident happened which well-nighdestroyed the boat. This was the sudden falling of the mainmast of the"Trident." With a rending crash it fell on the boat, overturned it, andheld it down, so that its self-righting principle was neutralised. Thecrew being secured against sinking by their life-jackets, succeeded inclambering into the ship--many of them more or less bruised and cut.The coxswain, however, did not appear; he seemed to have been lost.
"He's under the boat!" gasped Guy, who having been entangled in thewreck of the mast was the last to get on board.
"Axes, men!" shouted the Captain of the "Trident."
"A hundred pounds to the man who saves him!" cried a voice from thequarter-deck.
Who is this that is so liberal of his gold at a time when a hundredthousand pounds could not avail to save one hair of his own head? Heclings to the mizzen-shrouds with a face so ashy pale that Guy Fosterscarce recognises his own uncle! Ah! Denham, you have seen a storm anda wreck at last, in circumstances you little dreamed of when, years ago,Guy predicted that you would "change your mind" in regard to thesematters; and it would seem that your experience has done you no littlegood!
But, although Mr Denham shouted his best, no one heard him. Not theless on that account, however, did the strong men wield their axes andhew asunder the tough ropes and spars. Bax, as us
ual, was prominent inaction. He toiled as if for life; and so it was for life, though nothis own. Small was the hope, yet it was enough to justify the toil.The curvature of the lifeboat was so great that it was possible aportion of air sufficient to maintain life might be confined within it.And so it turned out. For twenty minutes they toiled; the boat wasfinally cleared; Bax struck the blow that set it free, and dragged thecoxswain out as it turned over. He was found to be alive though almostexhausted!
Once more they pushed off with a full load of human beings. Among themwere Mr Denham, Bax, and Tommy Bogey. The greater part of the crew,and some of the male passengers, still remained in the wreck awaitingtheir turn.
When the boat had advanced about a hundred yards a cry of distress washeard, but the noise of wind and waves was so great that they thought itmight have been mere imagination. Nevertheless, so much were theyimpressed, that the coxswain put about and returned towards the wreck.Too soon they discovered that it had been the death-cry of those whowere left behind, for _not a vestige of the_ "_Trident_" _remained_!The ill-fated vessel had been suddenly broken up and utterly swept away!
In their anxiety to save any who might yet survive, and be clinging toportions of the wreck, the boat cruised about for some time, and hercaptain was tempted to advance too far over the dangerous shoals. Shestruck suddenly with great violence, and remained fast on the sands.The utmost efforts were made to haul off, but in vain. The boat washurled again and again on the ridges of sand;--passed over several ofthem, and became hopelessly entangled.
Those well-known ripples that one sees on the shore, are, on the GoodwinSands, magnified from an inch to nearly three feet. Over these the boatnow began to surge.
"Hoist the sail! up with it!" cried the coxswain as they suddenly passedinto deeper water. Some of the men began to hope that they had crossedthe shoals, but they were mistaken.
The order was obeyed, and the boat rushed forward wildly, with its leegunwale buried deep in the sea; another moment and it struck again withtremendous violence. Those on board would have been torn out of her hadthey not clung to the seats with the energy of despair. It now becameclear to all who knew the locality, that there was no alternative forthem but to beat right across the Sands. The violence of the gale hadincreased. The night was pitchy dark, and the fearful shocks with whichthey struck the gigantic ripples on the banks, sent despair to thehearts of all, except the crew of the boat. These, knowing hercapabilities, retained a vestige of hope.
Bax, being ignorant on this point, had given up all hope. He clung tothe bollard, close beside the coxswain.
"It's all over with us at last," he said, as the boat struck heavily,and was then lifted away on the crest of a roaring breaker.
"It may be so," replied the coxswain, calmly; "but if we escape beingdashed on the wrecks that are scattered over the Sands, we may live itout yet."
And what of Mr Denham, the head of the wealthy firm, who years ago hadexpressed the opinion that lifeboats were unnecessary, and that "thosewho devoted themselves to a sea-faring life ought to make up their mindsto the chances and risks attending such a life"? What thought _he_ ashe lay there in the bottom of the boat--terrified almost to death;shaken and bruised by the repeated and awful shocks; chilled by theintense cold, and drenched to the skin, with just enough life left toenable him to cling to a thwart;--what thought _he_ on that terriblenight?
Perchance he thought of his former life of pride, selfishness, andindifference to the woes of others. Perhaps he reflected that his ownneglect in other days had something to do with his being here now.Whatever he thought he spoke not. His face was deadly pale. His lipswere blue. He crouched, a hopeless, a helpless, and a pitiful object,in the bottom of the lifeboat.
Presently they struck again. Crash! Every timber groaned as the boatturned broadside to the sea, which made a clear breach over her. Thecoxswain and Bax alone stood up, both holding on to the mizzen-mast.The rest clung on as they best could to the thwarts, sometimes buried inwater, often with only their heads above it. The tide was making, andas the boat passed each shoal the bow lifted first and swung round--thenthe stern, and it was clear again; but only to be hurled on the nextridge, when the sea once more burst over it, sweeping away everythingthat was loose.
It became necessary to alter the trim of the boat by moving some of themen from one part to another. The coxswain shouted the order, but onlyGuy Foster and two others were able to obey. All that the rest could dowas to hold on with iron grasp for bare life. With some this had becomethe involuntary clutch of despair.
Thus on they went crashing and jerking from bank to bank amid the ragingwind and surf and bitter cold. None save a lifeboat could havesurvived. To Bax it seemed miraculous.
"What are you doin'?" said he to one of the men near him.
"I'm takin' off my life-belt," he replied; "it'll be over all thequicker, and I don't want to be beatin' about over the sands alive ordead longer than I can help; the sooner I go to the bottom the better."
Bax tried to cheer this man, but in vain. At first a few of the moresanguine spirits among them had endeavoured to cheer their comrades, butas time wore on their efforts ceased. All gave themselves up for lost,and no word was spoken by any one, save at long intervals, when a briefsharp cry of agonising prayer escaped from those who looked to God forconsolation. Thus for two hours they beat over the sands--a distance ofnearly two miles--each moment expecting to be overturned or dashed topieces on some of the old wrecks. All this time the noble-heartedcoxswain remained at his post, and Bax stood--hopeless indeed, yetwatchful, beside him.
Suddenly the beating from ridge to ridge ceased. The boat swung intodeep water, and rushed on her wild career over the foam! Those who werenot utterly exhausted noticed the fact, and began to show symptoms ofreviving hope and activity. Others, thoroughly worn out, remainedutterly indifferent to the change.
Yes, the great danger was past! Sail was quickly made. The storm wasstill wild as ever, but with sufficient water below her, winds and waveswere powerless for evil to the lifeboat. Rushing through the surf, shesoon gained the harbour of Ramsgate, and all on board were landed insafety.
Ay, Reader, but the seeds of death had been sown that night. Theboatmen returned to their homes, and the saved passengers and crew ofthe "Trident" were cared for by the authorities of the town, but one sadresult was that several of those who had so nobly risked their lives tosave others, never recovered from the effects of the sixteen hours ofexposure to that pitiless storm.
Another and a glorious result was, that a _hundred and twenty souls_were snatched from a watery grave.