The Story Of The Stanley Over Again
The news we were able to publish in our first
War Special yesterday (Says the Shields Gazette) that the remainder
of the survivors had been taken off the wrecked hospital ship Rohilla,
at Whitby, would be received with a sigh of relief throughout the North
East coast. For we had all followed, with mingled sympathy and horror,
the terrible story of the wreck of that good ship, while on her errand
of mercy, and the ordeal through which her crew and passengers were
called to pass. Many of us know the spot at which she met her fate,
one of the most dangerous, if not the most dangerous on the whole of
this iron bound coast. On the one side a reef of rocks running far out
to sea rendered difficult and arduous any attempt at rescue by sea from
Whitby. Landward, cliffs towered to a height of 250 ft, with at there
base only a narrow-strip of land, and this at it's northern end, approached
from Whitby only over a mass of rocks and boulders.
These facts explain how it was that for more
than fifty hours, the survivors were left clinging on the wreck, within
sight, almost within reach, of hundreds of agonised spectators. It was
the story of the Stanley over again, only that the action was longer
drawn out, for two long days and two longer nights of wild weather intervened
between the wreck and the final rescue. That rescue was only rendered
possible by the heroism of the master and crew of the Tynemouth Lifeboat
who made the perilous nine hours journey through heavy seas and tempestuous
weather to effect the rescue. The loss of life is greater than at first
believed, since the Rohilla was carrying not 180 but over 220 souls,
and therefore about eighty must have perished. They have died in the
service of their country as surely as those-happily very few-who went
down with the Hermes on Saturday, The fine and even dramatic work of
rescues affords another illustration, if illustration were needed, of
the value of the motor lifeboat. The Tyne boat first demonstrated her
possibilities in bad weather in the now historic run to Blyth.
But yesterdays feat displayed even greater
necessity for keeping at sea in rough weather and a considerably extended
radius of section. It ought not, however, to be necessary for a motor
lifeboat to have to make such a long trip when her services are needed
as is involved in the fifty odd miles from Tynemouth to the scene of
the wreck. Just as the loss of the Stanley, to which we have already
referred, lead to the formation of volunteer life brigades all round
our coast so we hope the good service rendered by the Henry Vernon yesterday
morning will lead to the establishment of a fleet of motor lifeboats
round the coasts of the United Kingdom. These should be one at least
every twenty miles or so. The weekends experience suggests that Whitby
should be one of the first places so provide. It is no reflection, of
course, on either the courage or seamanship of our gallant lifeboat
men to propose such an innovation. No one who has watch, the oar-propelled
lifeboat struggling out in the teeth of a storm, beaten back again and
again, crawling forward, inch by inch, at the price of exhaustion of
her human propellers, but must have wished that it was possible to provide
a more powerful means of propulsion, and to save the strength of the
crew for the trying work of rescue when the wreck is reached. This the
Henry Vernon has shown to be possible, and it only remains for the public
to place a duplicate of that now famous boat at as many points on the
coast as possible.
Copyright © Colin Brittain 1999 - 2014
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