THE PITILESS GOODWINS 289 



she had thick weather. In the blackness of the early 

 morning of Wednesday, 5th January 1881, she struck 

 the Long Sand, north of the Goodwins. Fish at that 

 time was harbour-boatman at Ramsgate, as well as 

 coxswain of the lifeboat, and it rested with him to decide 

 whether or not the craft should be got out in answer to 

 the signals of distress. The coxswain did not hesitate. 

 He fired a rocket, showing that the lightship's signal 

 had been seen ; then the wild alarm was given and the 

 volunteers rushed to the lifeboat and took their places 

 in her first come, first served, from a crowd of eager 

 heroes. 



The brave old V^Ucan, predecessor of the Aid, 

 which you may now see in the harbour, ever ready for 

 the fight, took the Bradford in tow, and dragged her 

 out into some of the most dangerous seas that were ever 

 battled with, even by life-saving craft. The coxswain 

 told me he never saw worse or more bitter weather 

 and he was on service 353 times, and helped to save 

 887 lives from the Goodwins' hungry maw. 



It was one in the afternoon when the Vulcan and 

 the Bradford left the shelter of the harbour and plunged 

 into the furious seas. The spray froze as it flew over 

 the crew, crouching for shelter, and hair and beards 

 became masses of ice. There were 18 miles to cover 

 before the wreck was reached, and even the gallant 

 Vulcan, specially built for such a task, was seven hours 

 in covering the distance. During all that time the 

 lifeboatmen, lashed to their seats, endured the savage 

 thrashing of the breakers and the piercing cold. 



The rescue of the perishing seemed impossible, yet 

 the coxswain determined to stand by till daylight, and 

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