II.A NIGHT IN A LIGHTSHIP.While these sheets were passing through the press there appeared in theScotsmana graphic and interesting sketch of “A Night in the Gull Lightship, off the Goodwin Sands,” from the able and popular pen of Mr. R. M. Ballantyne (March 26, 1870). The following extracts cannot fail to be acceptable to the reader:—“A little before midnight on Thursday (the 24th), while I was rolling uneasily in my ‘bunk,’ contending with sleep and sea-sickness, and moralising on the madness of those who choose ‘the sea’ for a profession, I was roused—and sickness instantly cured—by the watch on deck suddenly shouting down the hatchway to the mate, ‘Southsand-Head light is firing, sir, and sending up rockets.’ The mate sprang from his ‘bunk,’ and was on the cabin floor before the sentence was well finished. I followed suit, and pulled on coat, nether garments, and shoes, as if my life depended on my own speed. There was unusual need for clothing, for the night was bitterly cold. On gaining the deck, we found the two men on duty actively at work—the one loading the lee gun, the other adjusting a rocket to its stick. A few hurried questions from the mate elicited all that it was needful to know. The flash of a gun from the Southsand-Head lightship, about six miles distant, had been seen, followed by a rocket, indicating that a vessel had got upon the fatal Goodwins. While the men spoke, I saw the bright flash of another gun, but heard no report—owing to the gale carrying the sound to leeward. A rocket followed, and at the same moment we observed the light of the vessel in distress just on the southern tail of the Sands. By this time our gun was charged, and the rocket in position. ‘Look alive, Jack; get the poker,’ cried the mate, as he primed the gun. Jack dived down the companion hatch, and in another moment returned with a red-hot poker, which the mate had thrust into the cabin fireat the first alarm. Jack applied it in quick succession to the gun and the rocket. A blinding flash and deafening crash were followed by the whiz of the rocket, as it sprang with a magnificent curve far away into the surrounding darkness. This was our answer to the Southsand-Head light, which, having fired three guns and three rockets to attract our attention, now ceased firing. It was also our note of warning to the look-out on the pier of Ramsgate Harbour. ‘That’s a beauty,’ said our mate, referring to the rocket; ‘get up another, Jack; sponge her well out, Jacobs, we’ll give ’em another shot in a few minutes.’ Loud and clear were both our signals, but four and a half miles of distance and a fresh gale neutralized their influence. The look-out did not see them. In less than five minutes the gun and rocket were fired again. Still no answering signal came from Ramsgate. ‘Load the weather gun,’ said the mate. Jacobs obeyed, and I sought shelter under the lee of the weather bulwarks, for the wind appeared to be composed of penknives and needles. Our third gun thundered forth, and shook the lightship 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 we observed the answering signal—a rocket from Ramsgate Pier.“‘That’s all rightnow, sir;ourwork is done,’ said the mate, as he went below, and quietly turned in, while the watch, having sponged out and recovered the gun, resumed their active perambulation of the deck. I confess that I felt somewhat disappointed at the sudden termination of the noise and excitement! I was told that the Ramsgate lifeboat could not well be out in less than an hour. It seemed to my excited spirit a terrible thing that human lives should be kept so long in jeopardy, and, of course, I began to think, ‘Is it not possible to prevent this delay?’ There was nothing for it, however, but patience, so I turned in ‘all standing,’ as sailors have it, with orders that I should be called when the lights of the tug should come in sight. It seemed but a few minutes after, when the voice of the watch was again heard shouting hastily, ‘Lifeboat close alongside, sir. Didn’t see it till this moment. She carries no lights.‘ I bounced out, and minus coat, hat, and shoes, scrambled on deck just in time to see the Broadstairs lifeboat rush past us before the gale. She was close under our stern, and rendered spectrally visible by the light of our lantern. ‘What are you firing for?’ shouted the coxswain of the boat. ‘Ship on the sands, bearing south,’ replied Jack, at the full pitch of his stentorian voice. The boat did not pause. It passed with a magnificent rush into darkness. The reply had been heard, and the lifeboat shot straight as an arrow to the rescue. We often hear and read of such scenes, but vision is necessary to enable one to realize the full import of all that goes on. Again all was silent and unexciting on board of theGull. I went shivering below, with exalted notions of the courage and endurance of lifeboat men. Soon after, the watch once more shouted, ‘Tug’s in sight, sir;’ and, once again, the mate and I went on deck. The Ramsgate lifeboatBradfordwas in tow far astern. As she passed us, the brief questions and answers were repeated for the benefit of the coxswain of the boat. I observed that every man in the boat lay flat on the thwarts except the coxswain. 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. They were, doubtless, wide awake and listening; but, as far as vision went, that boat was manned by ten oilskin coats and sou’-westers. A few seconds took them out of sight; and thus, as far as theGulllightship was concerned, the drama ended. There was no possibility of our ascertaining more, at least during that night, for whatever might be the result of these efforts, the floating lights had no chance of hearing of them until the next visit of their tender. I was therefore obliged to turn in once more, at 3A.M.Next forenoon we saw the wreck, bottom up, high on the Goodwin Sands.” It was that of the good shipGermaniaof Bremen.
While these sheets were passing through the press there appeared in theScotsmana graphic and interesting sketch of “A Night in the Gull Lightship, off the Goodwin Sands,” from the able and popular pen of Mr. R. M. Ballantyne (March 26, 1870). The following extracts cannot fail to be acceptable to the reader:—
“A little before midnight on Thursday (the 24th), while I was rolling uneasily in my ‘bunk,’ contending with sleep and sea-sickness, and moralising on the madness of those who choose ‘the sea’ for a profession, I was roused—and sickness instantly cured—by the watch on deck suddenly shouting down the hatchway to the mate, ‘Southsand-Head light is firing, sir, and sending up rockets.’ The mate sprang from his ‘bunk,’ and was on the cabin floor before the sentence was well finished. I followed suit, and pulled on coat, nether garments, and shoes, as if my life depended on my own speed. There was unusual need for clothing, for the night was bitterly cold. On gaining the deck, we found the two men on duty actively at work—the one loading the lee gun, the other adjusting a rocket to its stick. A few hurried questions from the mate elicited all that it was needful to know. The flash of a gun from the Southsand-Head lightship, about six miles distant, had been seen, followed by a rocket, indicating that a vessel had got upon the fatal Goodwins. While the men spoke, I saw the bright flash of another gun, but heard no report—owing to the gale carrying the sound to leeward. A rocket followed, and at the same moment we observed the light of the vessel in distress just on the southern tail of the Sands. By this time our gun was charged, and the rocket in position. ‘Look alive, Jack; get the poker,’ cried the mate, as he primed the gun. Jack dived down the companion hatch, and in another moment returned with a red-hot poker, which the mate had thrust into the cabin fireat the first alarm. Jack applied it in quick succession to the gun and the rocket. A blinding flash and deafening crash were followed by the whiz of the rocket, as it sprang with a magnificent curve far away into the surrounding darkness. This was our answer to the Southsand-Head light, which, having fired three guns and three rockets to attract our attention, now ceased firing. It was also our note of warning to the look-out on the pier of Ramsgate Harbour. ‘That’s a beauty,’ said our mate, referring to the rocket; ‘get up another, Jack; sponge her well out, Jacobs, we’ll give ’em another shot in a few minutes.’ Loud and clear were both our signals, but four and a half miles of distance and a fresh gale neutralized their influence. The look-out did not see them. In less than five minutes the gun and rocket were fired again. Still no answering signal came from Ramsgate. ‘Load the weather gun,’ said the mate. Jacobs obeyed, and I sought shelter under the lee of the weather bulwarks, for the wind appeared to be composed of penknives and needles. Our third gun thundered forth, and shook the lightship 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 we observed the answering signal—a rocket from Ramsgate Pier.“‘That’s all rightnow, sir;ourwork is done,’ said the mate, as he went below, and quietly turned in, while the watch, having sponged out and recovered the gun, resumed their active perambulation of the deck. I confess that I felt somewhat disappointed at the sudden termination of the noise and excitement! I was told that the Ramsgate lifeboat could not well be out in less than an hour. It seemed to my excited spirit a terrible thing that human lives should be kept so long in jeopardy, and, of course, I began to think, ‘Is it not possible to prevent this delay?’ There was nothing for it, however, but patience, so I turned in ‘all standing,’ as sailors have it, with orders that I should be called when the lights of the tug should come in sight. It seemed but a few minutes after, when the voice of the watch was again heard shouting hastily, ‘Lifeboat close alongside, sir. Didn’t see it till this moment. She carries no lights.‘ I bounced out, and minus coat, hat, and shoes, scrambled on deck just in time to see the Broadstairs lifeboat rush past us before the gale. She was close under our stern, and rendered spectrally visible by the light of our lantern. ‘What are you firing for?’ shouted the coxswain of the boat. ‘Ship on the sands, bearing south,’ replied Jack, at the full pitch of his stentorian voice. The boat did not pause. It passed with a magnificent rush into darkness. The reply had been heard, and the lifeboat shot straight as an arrow to the rescue. We often hear and read of such scenes, but vision is necessary to enable one to realize the full import of all that goes on. Again all was silent and unexciting on board of theGull. I went shivering below, with exalted notions of the courage and endurance of lifeboat men. Soon after, the watch once more shouted, ‘Tug’s in sight, sir;’ and, once again, the mate and I went on deck. The Ramsgate lifeboatBradfordwas in tow far astern. As she passed us, the brief questions and answers were repeated for the benefit of the coxswain of the boat. I observed that every man in the boat lay flat on the thwarts except the coxswain. 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. They were, doubtless, wide awake and listening; but, as far as vision went, that boat was manned by ten oilskin coats and sou’-westers. A few seconds took them out of sight; and thus, as far as theGulllightship was concerned, the drama ended. There was no possibility of our ascertaining more, at least during that night, for whatever might be the result of these efforts, the floating lights had no chance of hearing of them until the next visit of their tender. I was therefore obliged to turn in once more, at 3A.M.Next forenoon we saw the wreck, bottom up, high on the Goodwin Sands.” It was that of the good shipGermaniaof Bremen.
“A little before midnight on Thursday (the 24th), while I was rolling uneasily in my ‘bunk,’ contending with sleep and sea-sickness, and moralising on the madness of those who choose ‘the sea’ for a profession, I was roused—and sickness instantly cured—by the watch on deck suddenly shouting down the hatchway to the mate, ‘Southsand-Head light is firing, sir, and sending up rockets.’ The mate sprang from his ‘bunk,’ and was on the cabin floor before the sentence was well finished. I followed suit, and pulled on coat, nether garments, and shoes, as if my life depended on my own speed. There was unusual need for clothing, for the night was bitterly cold. On gaining the deck, we found the two men on duty actively at work—the one loading the lee gun, the other adjusting a rocket to its stick. A few hurried questions from the mate elicited all that it was needful to know. The flash of a gun from the Southsand-Head lightship, about six miles distant, had been seen, followed by a rocket, indicating that a vessel had got upon the fatal Goodwins. While the men spoke, I saw the bright flash of another gun, but heard no report—owing to the gale carrying the sound to leeward. A rocket followed, and at the same moment we observed the light of the vessel in distress just on the southern tail of the Sands. By this time our gun was charged, and the rocket in position. ‘Look alive, Jack; get the poker,’ cried the mate, as he primed the gun. Jack dived down the companion hatch, and in another moment returned with a red-hot poker, which the mate had thrust into the cabin fireat the first alarm. Jack applied it in quick succession to the gun and the rocket. A blinding flash and deafening crash were followed by the whiz of the rocket, as it sprang with a magnificent curve far away into the surrounding darkness. This was our answer to the Southsand-Head light, which, having fired three guns and three rockets to attract our attention, now ceased firing. It was also our note of warning to the look-out on the pier of Ramsgate Harbour. ‘That’s a beauty,’ said our mate, referring to the rocket; ‘get up another, Jack; sponge her well out, Jacobs, we’ll give ’em another shot in a few minutes.’ Loud and clear were both our signals, but four and a half miles of distance and a fresh gale neutralized their influence. The look-out did not see them. In less than five minutes the gun and rocket were fired again. Still no answering signal came from Ramsgate. ‘Load the weather gun,’ said the mate. Jacobs obeyed, and I sought shelter under the lee of the weather bulwarks, for the wind appeared to be composed of penknives and needles. Our third gun thundered forth, and shook the lightship 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 we observed the answering signal—a rocket from Ramsgate Pier.
“‘That’s all rightnow, sir;ourwork is done,’ said the mate, as he went below, and quietly turned in, while the watch, having sponged out and recovered the gun, resumed their active perambulation of the deck. I confess that I felt somewhat disappointed at the sudden termination of the noise and excitement! I was told that the Ramsgate lifeboat could not well be out in less than an hour. It seemed to my excited spirit a terrible thing that human lives should be kept so long in jeopardy, and, of course, I began to think, ‘Is it not possible to prevent this delay?’ There was nothing for it, however, but patience, so I turned in ‘all standing,’ as sailors have it, with orders that I should be called when the lights of the tug should come in sight. It seemed but a few minutes after, when the voice of the watch was again heard shouting hastily, ‘Lifeboat close alongside, sir. Didn’t see it till this moment. She carries no lights.‘ I bounced out, and minus coat, hat, and shoes, scrambled on deck just in time to see the Broadstairs lifeboat rush past us before the gale. She was close under our stern, and rendered spectrally visible by the light of our lantern. ‘What are you firing for?’ shouted the coxswain of the boat. ‘Ship on the sands, bearing south,’ replied Jack, at the full pitch of his stentorian voice. The boat did not pause. It passed with a magnificent rush into darkness. The reply had been heard, and the lifeboat shot straight as an arrow to the rescue. We often hear and read of such scenes, but vision is necessary to enable one to realize the full import of all that goes on. Again all was silent and unexciting on board of theGull. I went shivering below, with exalted notions of the courage and endurance of lifeboat men. Soon after, the watch once more shouted, ‘Tug’s in sight, sir;’ and, once again, the mate and I went on deck. The Ramsgate lifeboatBradfordwas in tow far astern. As she passed us, the brief questions and answers were repeated for the benefit of the coxswain of the boat. I observed that every man in the boat lay flat on the thwarts except the coxswain. 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. They were, doubtless, wide awake and listening; but, as far as vision went, that boat was manned by ten oilskin coats and sou’-westers. A few seconds took them out of sight; and thus, as far as theGulllightship was concerned, the drama ended. There was no possibility of our ascertaining more, at least during that night, for whatever might be the result of these efforts, the floating lights had no chance of hearing of them until the next visit of their tender. I was therefore obliged to turn in once more, at 3A.M.Next forenoon we saw the wreck, bottom up, high on the Goodwin Sands.” It was that of the good shipGermaniaof Bremen.