224 THE SEA. 



They had not proceeded much farther ahead in the hopes of assisting another vessel 

 ashore not far from Kingsgate, when the captain of the Aid saw a large life-buoy floating 

 by. " Ease her ! " he cries, and the way of the steamer slackens ; " God knows but what 

 that life-buoy may be of some use to us." The helmsman steers for it; a sailor 

 makes a hasty dart at it with a boat-hook, misses it, and starts back appalled from a 

 vision of staring eyes, and pale and agonised faces, matted hair, and arms outstretched for 

 help. The life-boat crew steer for the buoy ; the bowman grasps at it, but cannot lift it ; 

 his cry of horror startles the whole crew. Some of them hasten to help him. To that 

 buoy three dead bodies were found lashed with ropes round their waists. Slowly and 

 reverently, one by one, the crew lifted them on board, and laid them out under the sail. 

 Those three pale corpses were all that were ever found of the crew and passengei's to what 

 number is not known precisely to-day of the steamer Violet, which had left Ostend late 

 the previous evening. At two o'clock she struck the Sands ; a little after three there 

 was no one left on board to answer the signals of a steamboat that had come to 

 their rescue, and show their position; a little later and the Violet was lying a worthless 

 wreck below the breakers and quicksands. 



Happily the efforts of the life-boat and steamer's men are almost invariably crowned 

 with success, where such is anything like possible. A grand success was scored some 

 years ago when the passengers and crew of a large emigrant ship, and the crew of 

 another vessel, one hundred and twenty in all, were rescued and brought into Ramsgate as 

 the result of one long night's work. The first ship, the Fusilier, was found hard and 

 fast on the Sands, in a perfect boil of waters, and the life-boat alone dare approach her, 

 the Aid being obliged to lay off at some distance. The terrified passengers looked down 

 upon the life-boat from the high ship's deck, which quivered with every thump on the 

 sands, wondering how many she could possibly save, and despairingly crowding round the 

 two life-boat's men who had sprung to the man-ropes when the boat had been lifted by a 

 sea close to the wreck. The lights from the ship's lamps and the faint moonlight 

 revealed a trembling, pale, and horror-stricken crowd, nine-tenths of whom had known 

 nothing before of the terrors of the sea, and who still despaired of ever seeing land again. 

 But every one of them, and the list included more than sixty women and children, were 

 saved. The women and children were taken off first, helped down by sailors slung in 

 bowlines over the vessel's side, to the plunging, restless boat, the dangers being greatly 

 enhanced by the helplessness and frantic terror of the poor creatures. Yet not even a 

 baby was lost, although many were thrown from the vessel to the outstretched arms of 

 the life-boat men. About thirty persons were conveyed at a time to the steamer, where 

 the difficulties of transference were nearly as ffreat as from the wreck, but at last all 



v O 



were safe on board. Then, as the heavily-freighted steamer turned her head for Ramsgate, 

 the emigrants mentioned how, during the previous night, they had seen a large ship 

 drifting fast for the Sands, and how in the darkness they had lost sight of her. A 

 sharp look-out was therefore kept, and as they proceeded down Prince's Channel, and 

 neared the lightship, their search was rewarded. They noted the remnants of a wreck well 

 over on the north-east side of the Girdler Sands, and immediately put back for the life- 

 boat, which had been left alongside the emigrant ship, where the captain remained in the 



