Part 3 (2/2)
”Load the weather gun this time,” cried the mate, ”they'll have a better chance of seeing the flash of that.”
Jack obeyed, and Jim Welton, having nothing to do but look on, sought shelter under the lee of the weather bulwarks, for the wind, according to d.i.c.k Moy, ”was blowin' needles and penknives.”
The third gun thundered forth and shook the floating light from stem to stern, but the rocket struck the rigging and made a low wavering flight.
Another was therefore sent up, but it had scarcely cut its bright line across the sky when the answering signal was observed--a rocket from Ramsgate pier!
”That's all right now; _our_ duty's done,” said the mate, as he went below, and, divesting himself of his outer garments, quietly turned in, while the watch, having sponged out and re-covered the guns, resumed their active perambulation of the deck.
James Welton, however, could not calm down his feelings so easily. This was the first night he had ever spent in a light-s.h.i.+p; the scene was therefore quite new to him, and he could not help feeling somewhat disappointed at the sudden termination of the noise and excitement. He was told that the Ramsgate lifeboat could not be out in less than an hour, and it seemed to his excited spirit a terrible thing that human lives should be kept so long in jeopardy. Of course he began to think, ”Is it not possible to prevent this delay?” but his better sense whispered to him that excited spirits are not the best judges in such matters, although it cannot be denied that they have an irresistible tendency to judge. There was nothing for it, however, but to exercise philosophic patience, so he went below and turned in, as sailors have it, ”all standing,” to be ready when the lifeboat should make its appearance.
The young sailor's sleep was prompt and profound. It seemed to him but a few minutes after he had laid his head on the pillow when Jack Shale's voice again resounded in the cabin--
”Lifeboat close alongside, sir. Didn't see her till this moment. She carries no lights.”
The Weltons, father and son, sprang out of their bunks a second time, and, minus coat, hat, and shoes, scrambled on deck just in time to see the Broadstairs lifeboat rush past before the gale. She was close under the stern, and rendered spectrally visible by the light of the lantern.
”What are you firing for?” shouted the c.o.xswain of the boat.
”s.h.i.+p on the sands, bearing south,” roared Jack Shales at the full pitch of his stentorian voice.
There was no time for more, for the boat did not pause in her meteor-like flight. The question was asked and answered as she pa.s.sed with a magnificent rush into darkness. The reply had been heard, and the lifeboat shot, straight as an arrow, to the rescue.
Reader, we often hear and read of such scenes, but we can tell you from experience that vision is necessary to enable one to realise the full import of all that goes on. There was a strange thrill at the heart of young Welton when he saw the familiar blue-and-white boat leaping over the foaming billows. Often had he seen it in model and in quiescence in its boat-house, ponderous and almost ungainly; but now he saw it for the first time in action, as if endued with life. So, we fancy, warriors might speak of our heavy cavalry as _we_ see them in barracks and as _they_ saw them at Alma.
Again all was silent and unexciting on board the Gull; but, not many minutes later, the watch once more shouted down the skylight--
”Tug's in sight, sir.”
It was afterwards ascertained that a mistake had been made in reference to the vessel that had signalled. Some one on sh.o.r.e had reported that the guns and rockets had been seen flas.h.i.+ng from the _North_ sandhead vessel, whereas the report should have been, ”from the vessel at the _South_ sandhead.” The single word was all-important. It had the effect of sending the steam-tug Aid (which always attends upon the Ramsgate lifeboat) in the wrong direction, involving much loss of time.
But we mention this merely as a fact, not as a reproof. Accidents will happen, even in the best regulated families. The Ramsgate lifeboat service is most admirably regulated; and for once that an error of this kind can be pointed out, we can point to dozens--ay, hundreds--of cases in which the steamer and lifeboat have gone, straight as the crow flies, to the rescue, and have done good service on occasions when all other lifeboats would certainly have failed; so great is the value of steam in such matters.
On this occasion, however, the tug appeared somewhat late on the scene, and hailed the Gull. When the true state of the case was ascertained, her course was directed aright, and full steam let on. The Ramsgate boat was in tow far astern. As she pa.s.sed, the brief questions and answers were repeated for the benefit of the c.o.xswain, and Jim Welton observed that every man in the boat appeared to be crouching down on the thwarts except the c.o.xswain, who stood at the steering tackles. No wonder. It is not an easy matter to sit up in a gale of wind, with freezing spray, and sometimes green seas, sweeping over one! The men were doubtless wideawake and listening, but, as far as vision went, that boat was manned by ten oilskin coats and sou'westers!
A few seconds carried them out of sight, and so great was the power of steam that, despite the loss of time, they reached the neighbourhood of the wreck as soon as the Broadstairs boat, and found that the crew of the stranded vessel had already been saved, and taken ash.o.r.e by the Deal lifeboat.
It may be as well to observe here, that although in this case much energy was expended unnecessarily, it does not follow that it is frequently so expended. Often, far too often, all the force of lifeboat service on that coast is insufficient to meet the demands on it. The crews of the various boats in the vicinity of the Goodwin Sands are frequently called out more than once in a night, and they are sometimes out all night, visiting various wrecks in succession. In all this work the value of the steam-tug is very conspicuous, for it can tow its boat again and again to windward of a wreck, and renew the effort to save life in cases where, devoid of such aid, lifeboats would be compelled to give in after the failure of their first attempt, in consequence of their being driven helplessly to leeward.
But we have forestalled our narrative. The drama, as far as the Gull-Light was concerned, ended that night with the disappearance of the tug and lifeboat. It was not until several days afterwards that her crew learned the particulars of the wreck in connection with which they had acted so brief but so important a part.
Meanwhile, d.i.c.k Moy, who always walked the deck with a rolling swagger, with his huge hands thrust deep into his breeches' pockets when there was nothing for them to do, said to Jim Welton, ”he'd advise 'im to go below an' clap the dead-lights on 'is peepers.”
Jim, approving the advice, was about to descend to the cabin, when he was arrested by a sharp cry that appeared to rise out of the waves.
”Wot iver is that?” exclaimed d.i.c.k, as they all rushed to the port bow of the vessel and looked over the side.
”Something in the water,” cried Jack Shales, hastily catching up a coil of rope and throwing it overboard with that prompt.i.tude which is peculiar to seamen.
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