By Rob John, based on real events of 1899
A long time ago, when I was little, my grandad used to tell me stories about his adventures as a lifeboat man down at Lynmouth. Most of the time my grandad was a farm-worker鈥ut if there was a storm and a ship got into trouble the call would come and he鈥檇 stop his farm work and run down to the beach with his mates. They鈥檇 sail out in the lifeboat - the Louisa - and do their best to bring the sailors safely back to shore.
I loved my grandad鈥檚 lifeboat stories because I knew they were all true. At least I thought they were true鈥ntil he told me of the night they set off to rescue some sailors on a ship which was in trouble in a very bad storm鈥
鈥楤ut this was no ordinary rescue,鈥 said Grandad. 鈥楾his time the Louisa didn鈥檛 sail out to sea. On this wild night in 1899 her voyage took her up the lane and over the hill and down the road to Porlock.鈥
鈥業s that true, Grandad?鈥 I asked. 鈥楬ow could a huge boat sail over a hill?鈥
My Grandad lit his pipe. 鈥業鈥檒l tell you the story,鈥 he said. 鈥楾hen you can decide for yourself if it鈥檚 true鈥︹
'There was a fierce storm that night,鈥 said Grandad. 鈥楢 ship was in trouble and we needed to get the lifeboat in the water as quick as we could and sail her round to Porlock. Trouble was the sea was too rough at Lynmouth. We couldn鈥檛 get her in the water. The waves were too big.'
'We were about to give up when our skipper, Jack Crocombe, said: "Hold on boys. We could launch the boat from Porlock harbour. Why don鈥檛 we take her there by road?"'
'Some of us laughed when we heard that. We thought Jack was joking. But he was dead serious. He sent word round the town asking for help鈥nd inside half an hour we had a hundred men and twenty horses all ready for the big adventure. We put the Louisa on a huge set of wheels, hitched up the horses and off she rolled up the hill towards Porlock.鈥
Grandad looked at me and I looked at him. A boat travelling by road? A true story? I didn鈥檛 think so鈥
鈥業t was the toughest journey that boat ever took,鈥 said Grandad. 鈥楾he Louisa weighed nearly 10 tons and we had to get her over Countisbury Hill - and you know what a steep climb that is - and then just as we got to the top of the hill a wheel came off the carriage! Took about an hour to fix it鈥nd then we carried on. After a while the road got so narrow that there was no way the carriage wheels would get through. Some of the men gave up at this point. They said the boat would never get to Porlock. They said we were wasting our time and they went home to bed.'
鈥楧id you give up Grandad?鈥 I asked.
鈥楴o, I did not!鈥 said Grandad. 鈥榃e were the lifeboat crew and Jack Crocombe knew we鈥檇 never give up. He told us to take off the carriage wheels and we put the boat on bits of wood - like skis - and we just dragged her through the narrow gap.鈥
First the boat was on wheels and now it鈥檚 on skis. Did this really happen鈥?
Grandad carried on with his story鈥
鈥楴ext thing that happened we came round a corner and there was a huge tree in the way.
鈥"Cut it down men,"鈥 said Jack. And that鈥檚 what we did鈥'
'Then we came to a cottage which had a garden wall right next to the road. There was no way past that wall.'
鈥"Knock it down, men,"鈥 said Jack Crocombe.'
'An old woman who lived in the cottage came running out in her nightgown.'
鈥"What d鈥檡ou think you鈥檙e doing?"鈥 she said.
'Jack Crocombe explained everything and when she heard that we were on our way to save lives the old lady said: "Well you鈥檇 better hurry up and knock down that wall."鈥
'And so we did.鈥
'It was nearly morning by the time we got to Porlock,鈥檚aid Grandad. 鈥榃e were hungry, tired and soaking wet but we didn鈥檛 stop. We put the Louisa in the water and sailed her out to sea. We got them. We saved them all. Fifteen men. Got them off the drifting ship and brought them safely back to land. We didn鈥檛 give up see. We kept that boat moving鈥hrough the night鈥hirteen long miles鈥ver the hill to Porlock.'
My grandad's pipe had gone out when he'd finished telling his story. I鈥檇 just about decided that he was making the whole thing up鈥 but then I looked at him鈥 saw there were tears in his eyes鈥nd I knew: he was remembering the whole thing.
鈥業t鈥檚 true isn鈥檛?鈥 I said.
My grandad nodded. 鈥12th January 1899,鈥 he said. 鈥楾he proudest night of my life.鈥
By Rob John, based on real events of 1899
A long time ago, when I was little, my grandad used to tell me stories about his adventures as a lifeboat man down at Lynmouth. Most of the time my grandad was a farm-worker鈥ut if there was a storm and a ship got into trouble the call would come and he鈥檇 stop his farm work and run down to the beach with his mates. They鈥檇 sail out in the lifeboat - the Louisa - and do their best to bring the sailors safely back to shore.
I loved my grandad鈥檚 lifeboat stories because I knew they were all true. At least I thought they were true鈥ntil he told me of the night they set off to rescue some sailors on a ship which was in trouble in a very bad storm鈥
鈥楤ut this was no ordinary rescue,鈥 said Grandad. 鈥楾his time the Louisa didn鈥檛 sail out to sea. On this wild night in 1899 her voyage took her up the lane and over the hill and down the road to Porlock.鈥
鈥業s that true, Grandad?鈥 I asked. 鈥楬ow could a huge boat sail over a hill?鈥
My Grandad lit his pipe. 鈥業鈥檒l tell you the story,鈥 he said. 鈥楾hen you can decide for yourself if it鈥檚 true鈥︹
'There was a fierce storm that night,鈥 said Grandad. 鈥楢 ship was in trouble and we needed to get the lifeboat in the water as quick as we could and sail her round to Porlock. Trouble was the sea was too rough at Lynmouth. We couldn鈥檛 get her in the water. The waves were too big.'
'We were about to give up when our skipper, Jack Crocombe, said: "Hold on boys. We could launch the boat from Porlock harbour. Why don鈥檛 we take her there by road?"'
'Some of us laughed when we heard that. We thought Jack was joking. But he was dead serious. He sent word round the town asking for help鈥nd inside half an hour we had a hundred men and twenty horses all ready for the big adventure. We put the Louisa on a huge set of wheels, hitched up the horses and off she rolled up the hill towards Porlock.鈥
Grandad looked at me and I looked at him. A boat travelling by road? A true story? I didn鈥檛 think so鈥
鈥業t was the toughest journey that boat ever took,鈥 said Grandad. 鈥楾he Louisa weighed nearly 10 tons and we had to get her over Countisbury Hill - and you know what a steep climb that is - and then just as we got to the top of the hill a wheel came off the carriage! Took about an hour to fix it鈥nd then we carried on. After a while the road got so narrow that there was no way the carriage wheels would get through. Some of the men gave up at this point. They said the boat would never get to Porlock. They said we were wasting our time and they went home to bed.'
鈥楧id you give up Grandad?鈥 I asked.
鈥楴o, I did not!鈥 said Grandad. 鈥榃e were the lifeboat crew and Jack Crocombe knew we鈥檇 never give up. He told us to take off the carriage wheels and we put the boat on bits of wood - like skis - and we just dragged her through the narrow gap.鈥
First the boat was on wheels and now it鈥檚 on skis. Did this really happen鈥?
Grandad carried on with his story鈥
鈥楴ext thing that happened we came round a corner and there was a huge tree in the way.
鈥"Cut it down men,"鈥 said Jack. And that鈥檚 what we did鈥'
'Then we came to a cottage which had a garden wall right next to the road. There was no way past that wall.'
鈥"Knock it down, men,"鈥 said Jack Crocombe.'
'An old woman who lived in the cottage came running out in her nightgown.'
鈥"What d鈥檡ou think you鈥檙e doing?"鈥 she said.
'Jack Crocombe explained everything and when she heard that we were on our way to save lives the old lady said: "Well you鈥檇 better hurry up and knock down that wall."鈥
'And so we did.鈥
'It was nearly morning by the time we got to Porlock,鈥檚aid Grandad. 鈥榃e were hungry, tired and soaking wet but we didn鈥檛 stop. We put the Louisa in the water and sailed her out to sea. We got them. We saved them all. Fifteen men. Got them off the drifting ship and brought them safely back to land. We didn鈥檛 give up see. We kept that boat moving鈥hrough the night鈥hirteen long miles鈥ver the hill to Porlock.'
My grandad's pipe had gone out when he'd finished telling his story. I鈥檇 just about decided that he was making the whole thing up鈥 but then I looked at him鈥 saw there were tears in his eyes鈥nd I knew: he was remembering the whole thing.
鈥業t鈥檚 true isn鈥檛?鈥 I said.
My grandad nodded. 鈥12th January 1899,鈥 he said. 鈥楾he proudest night of my life.鈥
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