THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE 



545 



ashore in a fog and was totally lost. A 

 heavy surf was running when the brigan- 

 tine struck, making the launching of a 

 lifeboat to the rescue an exceedingly diffi- 

 cult and perilous undertaking. More- 

 over, the state of the sea, once a launch- 

 ing was effected, was such that a boat 

 could not run alongside the vessel. Her 

 masts were gone, some of the planks of 

 her port side were missing, her starboard 

 rail was under water, and debris was 

 thrashing around everything on board as 

 well as over the side. 



Both crew and passengers were in ex- 

 treme jeopardy, and in great panic were 

 calling for help. The" commander of the 

 lifeboat watched his chance and in the 

 brief period between seas ran in under 

 the flying jib-boom. Following his di- 

 rections, those on board crawled out on 

 the boom and dropped into the boat. 



The rescuers did not risk stopping long 

 under the boom — only long enough at a 

 time to get three or four persons. The 

 time limit of safety reached, they would 

 scud away with all speed, to avoid being 

 swamped or capsized by a breaking sea. 



WORK OF THE COAST GUARD CUTTERS 



Nor can one overlook the coast guard 

 cutter and its work. Under presidential 

 orders, about a dozen of these vessels 

 patrol assigned sections of the coastal 

 waters from Eastport, Maine, to Cape 

 Canaveral, Florida. 



Provided with liberal supplies of food, 

 water, and fuel, they put out to sea and 

 cruise throughout the long winter months, 

 ever vigilantly looking and listening for 

 vessels in distress and for opportunities 

 to be good friends in an hour of dire 

 need. 



One cutter covers the district between 

 Great Egg Harbor, New Jersey, and Cape 

 Hatteras. 



The heavier the blows being struck by 

 the sea the greater the need for these 

 cutters to be on the watch. Ships 

 aground, afire, in a collision, indeed any 

 S. O. S. sends the cutters full steam ahead 

 to the rescue. Now it may be a schooner, 

 like the Frederic A. Dnqgan, in distress 

 some 70 miles east of Nantucket Light- 

 ship, loaded with China clay, from Car- 

 diff, half full of water, her provisions 

 gone and her bottom so foul that only 



a gale could give her headway. Now it 

 may be the Bay State on the rocks of 

 Hollicom's Cove, Maine. Now the An- 

 tilla sends out an S. O. S. call that she is 

 afire 120 miles east of Norfolk, and the 

 Onondaga rushes to her rescue, and, 

 finally, with other help, gets her into port, 

 her cargo a total loss, but the ship saved. 

 Or it may be the transport Sumner, which 

 lost her bearings in a fog December u, 

 1916, and went upon the rocks of Barne- 

 gat Shoals. 



RED CROSS STATIONS 



In viewing the Atlantic seaboard, one 

 finds that the opposing forces in nature's 

 unrelenting campaign have at least paused 

 long enough to cooperate in the founda- 

 tion of Red Cross stations in neutral ter- 

 ritory. From Maine to Florida they have 

 established, by mutual agreement, waters 

 in which peace prevails — harbors where 

 fleets may find haven while awaiting call. 



Few stretches of coast line in the world 

 have more of these stations. Maine with 

 its Eastport, Belfast, Rockland, and Port- 

 land harbors ; New Hampshire with its 

 Portsmouth harbor ; Massachusetts with 

 the harbors of Newburyport, Gloucester, 

 Salem, Lynn, Boston, New Bedford, and 

 Fall River; Rhode Island with Newport, 

 Providence, and Bristol harbors ; and 

 Connecticut with those of New London, 

 New Haven, and Bridgeport, give New 

 England many such bases of first impor- 

 tance. 



Between the western nose of Long Is- 

 land and the eastern projection of Staten 

 Island, New York is given a harbor with 

 an outlet that justifies its name of "The 

 Narrows." Beyond lies the Upper Bay 

 and above that the deep waters of the 

 Lower Hudson and East River, giving 

 the city more potential water front than 

 any other municipality in the world. New 

 Jersey has little to offer in harbors of first 

 importance, except the one it shares with 

 New York and those on Raritan Bay; 

 but it joins with Delaware in forming 

 Delaware Bay, with its ocean outlet for 

 Philadelphia. 



Further down the coast the land sank 

 and invited the waters in through the 

 Virginia canes to form harbors at Balti- 

 more, Norfo 1 k, Portsmouth, and Newport 

 News. At Wilmington, N. C. ; Charles- 



