Battles with the Sea Part 5

Now observe, in pa.s.sing, that this Cah.o.r.e lifeboat not only did much good, but received considerable and well-merited benefit, each man receiving 34 pounds from the grateful owners, who also presented 68 pounds to the Inst.i.tution, in consideration of the risk of damage incurred to their boat. No doubt it may be objected that this, being a foreign s.h.i.+p, was not saved to _our_ nation; but, as the proverb says, "It is not lost what a friend gets," and I think it is very satisfactory to reflect that we presented the handsome sum of 20,000 pounds to Spain as a free gift on that occasion.

This was a saved s.h.i.+p. Let us look now at a lost one. Some years ago a s.h.i.+p named the Golden Age was lost. It was well named though ill-fated, for the value of that s.h.i.+p and cargo was 200,000 pounds. The cost of a lifeboat with equipment and transporting carriage complete is about 650 pounds, and there are 273 lifeboats at present on the sh.o.r.es of the United Kingdom. Here is material for a calculation! If that single s.h.i.+p had been among the twenty-seven saved last year (and it _might_ have been) the sum thus rescued from the sea would have been sufficient to pay for all the lifeboats in the kingdom, and leave 22,550 pounds in hand! But it was _not_ among the saved. It was lost--a dead loss to Great Britain. So was the Ontario of Liverpool, wrecked in October, 1864, and valued at 100,000 pounds. Also the a.s.sage, wrecked on the Irish coast, and valued at 200,000 pounds. Here are five hundred thousand pounds--half a million of money--lost by the wreck of these three s.h.i.+ps alone. Of course, these three are selected as specimens of the most valuable vessels lost among the two thousand wrecks that take place _each year_ on our coasts; they vary from a first-rate mail steamer to a coal coffin, but set them down at any figure you please, and it will still remain true that it would be worth our while to keep up our lifeboat fleet, for the mere chance of saving such valuable property.

But after all is said that can be said on this point, the subject sinks into insignificance when contrasted with the lifeboat's true work--the saving of human lives.

There is yet another and still higher sense in which the lifeboat is of immense value to the nation. I refer to the moral influence it exercises among us. If many hundreds of lives are annually saved by our lifeboat fleet, does it not follow, as a necessary consequence, that happiness and grat.i.tude must affect thousands of hearts in a way that cannot fail to redound to the glory of G.o.d, as well as the good of man?

Let facts answer this question.

We cannot of course, intrude on the privacy of human hearts and tell what goes on there, but there are a few outward symptoms that are generally accepted as pretty fair tests of spiritual condition. One of these is parting with money! Looking at the matter in this light, the records of the Inst.i.tution show that thousands of men, women, and children, are beneficially influenced by the lifeboat cause.

The highest contributor to its funds in the land is our Queen; the lowliest a sailor's orphan child. Here are a few of the gifts to the Inst.i.tution, culled almost at random from the Reports. One gentleman leaves it a legacy of 10,000 pounds. Some time ago a sum of 5000 pounds was sent anonymously by "a friend." A hundred pounds comes in as a _second_ donation from "a sailor's daughter." Fifty pounds come from a British admiral, and five s.h.i.+llings from "the savings of a child!"

One-and-sixpence is sent by another child in postage-stamps, and 1 pound 5 s.h.i.+llings as the collection of a Sunday school in Manchester; 15 pounds from three fellow-servants; 10 pounds from a s.h.i.+pwrecked pilot, and 10 s.h.i.+llings, 6 pence from an "old salt." I myself had once the pleasure of receiving twopence for the lifeboat cause from an exceedingly poor but enthusiastic old woman! But my most interesting experience in this way was the receipt of a note written by a blind boy--well and legibly written, too--telling me that he had raised the sum of 100 pounds for the Lifeboat Inst.i.tution.

And this beneficial influence of our lifeboat service travels far beyond our own sh.o.r.es. Here is evidence of that. Finland sends 50 pounds to our Inst.i.tution to testify its appreciation of the good done by us to its sailors. President Lincoln, of the United States, when involved in all the anxieties of the great war between North and South, found time to send 100 pounds to the Inst.i.tution in acknowledgment of services rendered to American s.h.i.+ps in distress. Russia and Holland send naval men to inspect--not our armaments and _materiel_ of hateful war, but-- our lifeboat management! France, in generous emulation, starts a Lifeboat Inst.i.tution of its own, and sends over to ask our society to supply it with boats--and, last, but not least, it has been said that foreigners, driven far out of their course and stranded, soon come to know that they have been wrecked on the British coast, by the persevering efforts that are made to save their lives!

And now, good reader, let me urge this subject on your earnest consideration. Surely every one should be ready to lend a hand to _rescue the peris.h.i.+ng_! One would think it almost superfluous to say more. So it would be, if there were none who required the line of duty and privilege to be pointed out to them. But I fear that many, especially dwellers in the interior of our land, are not sufficiently alive to the claims that the lifeboat has upon them.

Let me ill.u.s.trate this by a case or two--imaginary cases, I admit, but none the less ill.u.s.trative on that account.

"Mother," says a little boy, with flas.h.i.+ng eyes and curly flaxen hair; "I want to go to sea!"

He has been reading "Cook's Voyages" and "Robinson Crusoe," and looks wistfully out upon the small pond in front of his home, which is the biggest "bit of water" his eyes have ever seen, for he dwells among the cornfields and pastures of the interior of the land.

"Don't think of it, darling Willie. You might get wrecked,--perhaps drowned."

But "darling Willie" does think of it, and a.s.serts that being wrecked is the very thing he wants, and that he's willing to take his chance of being drowned! And Willie goes on thinking of it, year after year, until he gains his point, and becomes the family's "sailor boy," and mayhap, for the first time in her life, Willie's mother casts more than a pa.s.sing glance at newspaper records of lifeboat work. But she does no more. She has not yet been awakened. "The people of the coast naturally look after the things of the coast," has been her sentiment on the subject--if she has had any definite sentiments about it at all.

On returning from his first voyage Willie's s.h.i.+p is wrecked. On a horrible night, in the howling tempest, with his flaxen curls tossed about, his hands convulsively clutching the shrouds of the topmast, and the hissing billows leaping up as if they wished to lick him off his refuge on the cross-trees, Willie awakens to the dread reality about which he had dreamed when reading Cook and Crusoe. Next morning a lady with livid face, and eyes glaring at a newspaper, gasps, "Willie's s.h.i.+p--is--wrecked! five lost--thirteen saved by the lifeboat." One faint gleam of hope! "Willie may be among the thirteen!" Minutes, that seem hours, of agony ensue; then a telegram arrives, "_Saved, Mother-- thank G.o.d,--by the lifeboat_."

"Ay, thank G.o.d," echoes Willie's mother, with the profoundest emotion and sincerity she ever felt; but think you, reader, that she did no more? Did she pa.s.s languidly over the records of lifeboat work after _that_ day? Did she leave the management and support of lifeboats to _the people of the coast_? I trow not. But what difference had the saving of Willie made in the lifeboat cause? Was hers the only Willie in the wide World? Are we to act on so selfish a principle, as that we shall decline to take an interest in an admittedly grand and good and national cause, until our eyes are forcibly opened by "our Willie" being in danger? Of course I address myself to people who have really kind and sympathetic hearts, but who, from one cause or another, have not yet had this subject earnestly submitted to their consideration. To those who have _no heart_ to consider the woes and necessities of suffering humanity, I have nothing whatever to say,--except,--G.o.d help them!

Let me enforce this plea--that _inland_ cities and towns and villages should support the Lifeboat Inst.i.tution--with another imaginary case.

A tremendous gale is blowing from the south-east, sleet driving like needles--enough, almost, to put your eyes out. A "good s.h.i.+p," under close-reefed topsails, is bearing up for port after a prosperous voyage, but the air is so thick with drift that they cannot make out the guiding lights. She strikes and sticks fast on outlying sands, where the sea is roaring and leaping like a thousand fiends in the wintry blast. There are pa.s.sengers on board from the Antipodes, with boxes and bags of gold-dust, the result of years of toil at the diggings. They do not realise the full significance of the catastrophe. No wonder--they are landsmen! The tide chances to be low at the time; as it rises, they awake to the dread reality. Billows burst over them like miniature Niagaras. The good s.h.i.+p which has for many weeks breasted the waves so gallantly, and seemed so solid and so strong, is treated like a cork, and becomes apparently an egg-sh.e.l.l!

Night comes--darkness increasing the awful aspect of the situation tenfold. What are boxes and bags of gold-dust now--now that wild despair has seized them all, excepting those who, through G.o.d's grace, have learned to "fear no evil?"

Suddenly, through darkness, spray, and hurly-burly thick, a ghostly boat is seen! The lifeboat! Well do the seamen know its form! A cheer arouses sinking hearts, and hope once more revives. The work of rescuing is vigorously, violently, almost fiercely begun. The merest child might see that the motto of the lifeboat-men is "Victory or death." But it cannot be done as quickly as they desire; the rolling of the wreck, the mad plunging and sheering of the boat, prevent that.

A st.u.r.dy middle-aged man named Brown--a common name, frequently a.s.sociated with common sense--is having a rope fastened round his waist by one of the lifeboat crew named Jones--also a common name, not seldom a.s.sociated with uncommon courage. But Brown must wait a few minutes while his wife is being lowered into the boat.

"Oh! be careful. Do it gently, there's a good fellow," roars Brown, in terrible anxiety, as he sees her swung off.

"Never fear, sir; she's all right," says Jones, with a quiet rea.s.suring smile, for Jones is a tough old hand, accustomed to such scenes.

Mrs Brown misses the boat, and dips into the raging sea.

"Gone!" gasps Brown, struggling to free himself from Jones and leap after her, but the grasp of Jones is too much for him.

"Hold on, sir? _she's_ all right, sir, bless you; they'll have her on board in a minute."

"I've got bags, boxes, _bucketfuls_ of gold in the hold," roars Brown.

"Only save her, and it's all yours!"

The shrieking blast will not allow even _his_ strong voice to reach the men in the lifeboat, but they need no such inducement to work.

"The gold won't be yours long," remarks Jones, with another smile.

Neptune'll have it all to-night. See! they've got her into the boat all right, sir. Now don't struggle so; you'll get down to her in a minute.

There's another lady to go before your turn comes.

During these few moments of forced inaction the self-possessed Jones remarks to Brown, in order to quiet him, that they'll be all saved in half an hour, and asks if he lives near that part of the coast.

"Live near it!" gasps Brown. "No! I live nowhere. Bin five years at the diggings. Made a fortune. Going to live with the old folk now--at Blunderton, far away from the sea; high up among the mountains."

"Hm!" grunts Jones. "Do they help to float the lifeboats at Blunderton?"

"The lifeboats? No, of course not; never think of lifeboats up there."

"Some of you think of 'em down _here_, though," remarks Jones. "Do _you_ help the cause in any way, sir?"

"Me? No. Never gave a s.h.i.+lling to it."

"Well, never mind. It's your turn now, sir. Come along. We'll save you. Jump!" cries Jones.

And they do save him, and all on board of that ill-fated s.h.i.+p, with as much heartfelt satisfaction as if the rescued ones had each been a contributor of a thousand a year to the lifeboat cause.

"Don't forget us, sir, when you gits home," whispers Jones to Brown at parting.

And _does_ Brown forget him? Nay, verily! He goes home to Blunderton, stirs up the people, hires the town-hall, gets the chief magistrate to take the chair, and forms a _Branch_ of the Royal National Lifeboat Inst.i.tution--the Blunderton Branch, which, ever afterwards, honourably bears its annual share in the expense, and in the privilege, of rescuing men, women, and little ones from the raging seas. Moreover, Brown becomes the enthusiastic secretary of the Branch. And here let me remark that no society of this nature can hope to succeed, unless its secretary be an enthusiast.

Now, reader, if you think I have made out a good case, let me entreat you to go, with Brown in your eye, "and do likewise."

And don't fancy that I am advising you to attempt the impossible. The supposed Blunderton case is founded on fact. During a lecturing tour one man--somewhat enthusiastic in the lifeboat cause--preached the propriety of inland towns starting Branches of the Lifeboat Inst.i.tution.

Upwards of half a dozen such towns responded to the exhortation, and, from that date, have continued to be annual contributors and sympathisers.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

THE LIFE-SAVING ROCKET.

We shall now turn from the lifeboat to our other great engine of war with which we do battle with the sea from year to year, namely, the Rocket Apparatus.

This engine, however, is in the hands of Government, and is managed by the coastguard. And it may be remarked here, in reference to coastguard men, that they render constant and effective aid in the saving of s.h.i.+pwrecked crews. At least one-third of the medals awarded by the Lifeboat Inst.i.tution go to the men of the coastguard.

Every one has heard of Captain Manby's mortar. Its object is to effect communication between a stranded s.h.i.+p and the sh.o.r.e by means of a rope attached to a shot, which is fired over the former. The same end is now more easily attained by a rocket with a light rope, or line, attached to it.

Now the rocket apparatus is a little complicated, and ignorance in regard to the manner of using it has been the cause of some loss of life. Many people think that if a rope can only be conveyed from a stranded s.h.i.+p to the sh.o.r.e, the saving of the crew is comparatively a sure and easy matter. This is a mistake. If a rope--a stout cable-- were fixed between a wreck and the sh.o.r.e, say at a distance of three or four hundred yards, it is obvious that only a few of the strongest men could clamber along it. Even these, if benumbed and exhausted--as is frequently the case in s.h.i.+pwreck--could not accomplish the feat. But let us suppose, still further, that the vessel rolls from side to side, dipping the rope in the sea and jerking it out again at each roll, what man could make the attempt with much hope of success, and what, in such circ.u.mstances, would become of women and children?