Saved by the Lifeboat by the Lifeboat by R. M. Ballantyne (top ten ebook reader TXT) 📕

yards, and let her down with a crash that well-nigh tore every man out of her, leaving her there a few moments, to be caught up again and made sport with by the next billow. The Portuguese sailors, eighteen in number, clung to the thwarts in silent despair, but the crew of the boat did not lose heart. They knew her splendid qualities, and hoped that, if they should only escape being dashed against the portions of wreck which strewed the sands, all might yet be well. Thus, literally fathom by fathom, with a succession of shocks that would have knocked any ordinary boat to pieces, was this magnificent lifeboat driven, during two hours in the dead of night, over two miles of the Goodwin Sands! At last she drove into deep water on the other side; the sails were set, and soon after, through God’s mercy, the rescued men were landed safely in Ramsgate Harbour. So, we repeat, the lifeboat is almost indestructible.

That she is insubmergible has been proved by what has already been written, and our space forbids giving further illustration, but a word about the cause of this quality is necessary. Her floating power is due to air-chambers fitted round the sides under the seats and in the bow and stern; also to empty space and light wood or cork ballast under her floor. If thrust forcibly deep under water with as many persons in her as could be stowed away, she would, on being released, rise again to the surface like a cork.

The self-righting principle is one of the most important qualities of the lifeboat. However good it may be in other respects, a boat without this quality is a lifeboat only so long as it maintains its proper position 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 are so, and the results have been on several occasions disastrous. Witness the case of the Liverpool boat, which in January 1865 upset, and the crew of seven men were drowned. Also the Point of Ayr lifeboat, which upset when under sail at a distance from the land, and her crew, thirteen in number, were drowned. Two or three of the poor fellows were seen clinging to the keel for twenty minutes, but no assistance could be rendered. Now, both of these were considered good lifeboats, but they were not self-righting. Numerous cases might be cited to prove the inferiority of the non-self-righting boats, but one more will suffice. In February 1858 the Southwold boat—a large sailing boat, esteemed one of the finest in the kingdom, but not self-righting—went out for exercise, and was running before a heavy surf with all sail set, when she suddenly ran on the top of a sea, broached-to and upset. The crew in this case being near shore, and having on cork lifebelts, were rescued, but three gentlemen who had gone off in her without lifebelts were drowned. This case, and the last, occurred in broad daylight.

In contrast to these we give an instance of the action of the self-righting lifeboat when overturned. It occurred on a dark stormy night in October 1858. On that night a wreck took place off the coast near Dungeness, three miles from shore. The small lifeboat belonging to that place put off to the rescue. Eight stout men of the coastguard composed 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 been deserted by her crew; the boat therefore returned to the shore. While crossing a deep channel between two shoals she was caught up and struck by three heavy seas in succession. The coxswain lost command of the rudder, and she was carried away before a sea, broached to and upset, throwing the men out of her. Immediately she righted herself, cleared herself of water, and the anchor having fallen out she was brought up by it. The crew, meanwhile, having on lifebelts, regained the boat, got into 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 large air-cases, one in the bow, the other in the stern, and a heavy iron keel. These air-cases are rounded on the top and raised so high that a boat, bottom up, resting on them, would be raised almost quite out of the water. Manifestly, to rest on these pivots is an impossibility; the overturned boat must fall on its side, in which position the heavy iron keel comes into play and drags the bottom down, thus placing the boat violently and quickly in her proper position. The simple plan here described was invented by the Reverend James Bremner, of Orkney, and exhibited at Leith, near Edinburgh, in the year 1800. Mr Bremner’s aircases were empty casks in the bow and stern, and his ballast was three hundredweight of iron attached to the keel.

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.