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Village Craftsmen
170
Howard Street
PO Box
248
Ocracoke Island,
NC 27960
252-928-5541
info@villagecraftsmen.com
Ocracoke Newsletter
May 25, 2008
It was 7:00 a.m., February 17, 1885, and the A.F. Crockett,
a coastal schooner, was hard ashore about ten miles southwest of
the Cedar Hammock Life Saving Station at Hatteras Inlet on Ocracoke Island.
Cedar Hammock Life Saving Station:

(Click on photo to view larger image.)
According to
an account of the wreck and the rescue operation, gathered from
contemporary records and printed in the Coastland Times newspaper
many years later:
"[T]he wind was blowing fresh from the west and a high sea [was] tumbling in on the beach."
"[T}he transportation of the [beach] apparatus [was] a very tedious and laborious task."
"At times the water rushed up so far on the shore that [the life savers] were obliged to retreat back of the sand-hills."
"Progress under these trying and exhausting conditions was necessarily
slow, and the keeper...proceeded on ahead [on foot] to signal that
assistance would soon arrive."
Another famous wreck was the British Steamship, Ariosto, that went aground on Ocracoke Christmas Eve, 1899. According to the original Life Saving Records:
"About 4 o'clock Surfman Guthrie...discovered, during a brief interval
when the weather lighted, the masthead light of a steamer...ashore."
"An accident to one of the shafts of the beach-apparatus cart caused considerable delay soon after the crew started..."
"The tide making over the beach was especially deep at a point where
the hurricane of August 16-18 had cut an inlet, and the keeper was
obliged to secure the aid of five citizens...to help his crew get the
gear to the wreck...."
"On account of the surf running over the beach there was very serious
difficulty in finding a place sufficiently high and solid to bury the
sand anchor where it would hold and to place the Lyle gun where it
would be out of water. Both had to be frequently moved during the
operations."
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Imagine a typical Outer Banks scene from the late 1800s. It is winter, maybe December, January,
or February. The temperature is in the
thirties, perhaps colder. Ice is forming on the rigging of a
three-masted schooner, which has wrecked miles from the Life Saving
Station. Gale force winds are whipping across the island, and are
approaching hurricane force. The raging surf is pounding the beach with
powerful waves, then rushing back to sea. Rip currents are cutting deep
gullies every half mile or so.
A lone surfman is walking the beach, protected from the elements only
by his oilskins, and often up to his thighs in seawater, scanning the
angry sea, always on the lookout for vessels in distress. The
weather is thick. Rain is mixed with sleet, and heavy, roiling clouds
scud over the island. Daybreak is still hours away.
Suddenly the surfman spies a light at the top of a mast...rolling with
the waves...too close to shore. He is miles from his station. He
lights a signal lamp, hoping the captain and crew of the stranded
vessel will see the light and remain on board to wait for the Life
Saving crew. That is always their best option, unless the ship is in
immediate danger of breaking apart.
The surfman turns and hastens back to the station. He has been on patrol
for hours, and it will be hours more before he can sound the
alarm.
Back at the station the surfman arouses the keeper, who summons the
crew. They are ready within minutes for they have been practicing
their drill several times each
week. In spite of the worsening
weather they never waver. Miles away a sailing vessel from some unknown
port is foundering in heavy seas. The crew (and perhaps
even passengers) are total strangers. They may hail from some
foreign
country and speak an unintelligible language. They may be white,
black, or some other color. It does not matter. The surfmen
of the United States Life Saving Service are dedicated to risking their
own lives to save every stranded seaman.
When asked why he ventured out in a hellish storm to save
sailors on a wrecked ship, one life saver
observed that the rules state that life savers must go
out...nothing says they must come back. Every rescue was an extraordinary story of courage, bravery, and commitment.
Ocracoke's first U.S. Life Saving Station was established in 1883 at
Cedar Hammock, near Hatteras Inlet. Today, all that remains of that
station are several rows of barnacle-encrusted pilings. Even now
they stand guard in the often turbulent surf at the north end of
Ocracoke Island.
The
original station crew consisted of six surfmen and the keeper, James W. Howard, who gave all
orders, was in charge of training and discipline, commanded all rescue
operations, and filed a thorough wreck report after every sea
disaster.
Keeper James W. Howard:

At Cedar Hammock, miles from Ocracoke village, surrounded by blowing
sand and ever-changing tidal flats, the men of the Life Saving Service
carved out a tiny settlement. Most of the surfmen brought their
wives and children, and built modest homes near the station. By
1897 Keeper Howard and his wife, Zilphia, even had charge of their
three grandchildren after the untimely death of the children's mother.
No stores graced the north end of Ocracoke. No church bell
pealed to beckon worshipers to Sabbath day services. No school
marm called her charges to learn their lessons. No doctor lived
nearby to tend to the sick and injured with medicines and instruments
from his black leather bag.
Supplies were brought in by boat, as needed. The keeper offered prayers
when appropriate, and read from the Bible as occasion demanded.
Captain Wilson, an educated gentleman from the mainland,
eventually arrived and instructed the handful of youngsters in reading,
writing, and arithmetic, relieving the keeper of that duty. When illness struck Keeper Howard opened his
medicine chest and dispensed Castor Oil, Kaopectate, Laudenum, or
other tonics. If necessary, he lanced boils, sutured lacerations, or set broken bones.
During periods of bright skies, placid seas, and steady breezes, when
sailors were usually safe from harm along the North Carolina coast, the
keeper and surfmen busied themselves inspecting their apparatus, oiling
movable metal parts, repairing equipment, painting the station and out
buildings, patrolling the beach, and practicing their drills.
Each surfman had specific duties during a rescue, and they were
expected to work flawlessly as a team, and to perform their assigned
tasks quickly and efficiently.
At the alarm, "Ship Ashore," the men rushed to their stations, awaiting
the keeper's orders. The beach cart was readied with shot line,
projectile, whip line, faking box, hawser, Lyle gun, powder, charges,
sand anchor, crotch, tally board, blocks & pulleys, shovels, and,
of course, the breeches buoy.
Four of the surfmen were harnessed to the beach cart, and proceeded to
pull the sturdy vehicle miles through sinking sand, wild wind, pelting
rain or sleet, and frigid seawater, to the stranded vessel.
Reenactment (Readying the Beach Cart):

(Click on photo to view larger image. Photo by Amy Howard.)
At the site of the wreck the rescue operation was initiated.
Signal lights or flags alerted the waiting captain and crew that
help had arrived. In almost all cases the code "MK"
warned sailors to stay on board and not risk abandoning their
ship without the assistance of the life savers.
The small brass Lyle gun was set down on the sand and loaded with
charge and projectile. Actually a miniature cannon, the Lyle gun
was invented by Lieutenant David Lyle of the U.S. Army Ordnance Corps,
in 1878. One of only a very few guns specifically designed
to save lives, rather than to take lives, the Lyle gun could shoot a
projectile (attached to a small diameter hemp line) almost 700 yards to
a stranded vessel.
The Lyle Gun:

(Click on photo to view larger image. Photo by Amy Howard.)
While the keeper and his assistant prepared the Lyle gun, the other
surfmen were busy readying the rescue lines
and other apparatus. Two men dug a hole in the sand and buried the sand
anchor, two heavy boards fashioned together in the form of an "X."
One end of the shot line was attached to the projectile. The line
itself had been wound (in a zig-zag pattern) around pegs in a
wooden "faking box," a maneuver designed to keep the line from tangling
as it payed out. The box was carefully turned upside down near
the Lyle gun, then set aside. The Lyle gun was fired, sending
projectile and shot line into the rigging of the stricken ship.
Firing the Shot Line (notice the projectile just above the trees):

(Click on photo to view larger image. Photo by Amy Howard.)
Upon seizing the shot line, the crew hauled it aboard. Attached
to the other end they found a wooden pulley (or "tail block"), threaded
by a larger "whip line" (a looped, or "endless" line) and a small
"tally board" with instructions written in both English and French. The
tail block was then firmly tied to one of the masts.
Whip Line Attached to the Mast (from Annual Report of the Operations of the United State Lifesaving Service, 1900):

(Click on drawing to view larger image.)
That completed, the surfmen on shore fastened a three-inch hawser to
the whip line. By pulling on the whip line, they conveyed the
hawser to the vessel, where the sailors fastened it securely to the
mast several inches above the whip line.
The Hawser Attached above the Whip Line (from Annual Report of the Operations of the United State Lifesaving Service, 1900):

(Click on drawing to view larger image.)
The shore-side end of the hawser was then tied to a double pulley
attached to the sand anchor. By raising a wooden "crotch" under
the hawser, and pulling strenuously on the lines passing through the
double pulley they were able to stretch the hawser tight and keep it
safely above the angry breakers.
The final rescue apparatus was now ready to be deployed. The breeches
buoy, a life ring fitted with canvas trouser legs, hung from the hawser
by the self-descriptive "traveling block." The traveling block, in
turn, was fastened to the whip line which ran through the tail block
attached to the ship's mast.
The Traveling Block & Breeches Buoy (from Annual Report of the Operations of the United State Lifesaving Service, 1900):

(Click on drawing to view larger image.)
The life savers could now draw the breeches buoy to the ship, where passengers and crew anxiously awaited their turns.
One by one everyone on the stricken vessel climbed into the breeches
buoy and was pulled to safety by the surfmen of the US Life Saving
Service.
Rescue by Breeches Buoy (from Harper's Weekly, 1888):

(Click on photo to view larger image. Photo by Amy Howard.)
Most rescues by the Life Saving Service were successful. Few
mariners who waited for the courageous surfmen perished. Sometimes,
however, sailors and passengers panicked and made the mistake of
launching lifeboats, which quickly overturned, throwing all of the
occupants into a raging and unforgiving sea. Most drowned. At
other times, ships broke apart before the life savers were able to make
their way to the wreck. Many of those unfortunate sailors drowned
as well.
Bringing survivors to shore was not the end of a rescue operation.
Rescued sailors had to be given dry clothes, food, and lodging,
at times for several days, back at the station which might be miles
away. One memorable wreck on Portsmouth Island in 1903, the Vera Cruz, carried 22 crew members and 399 passengers. In this case, although a fresh northeaster and a strong ebb tide had forced the Vera Cruz
into the breakers, the life saving crew was able to use their open
surfboat. It took them 41 trips to bring everyone on shore.
The people of Portsmouth village used four and a half barrels of
flour to bake bread for the survivors, most of whom were smuggled
Portuguese immigrants who spoke no English.
When sailors drowned or otherwise perished, the life savers then had to
bury the bodies, usually in unmarked graves in nearby sand dunes. That
cheerless task completed, the surfmen then had to disassemble their
apparatus, stow Lyle gun, hawsers, pulleys, breeches buoy, and other
equipment, and pull the beach cart back to the station.
Sometimes the keeper and his men were taxed to their limits. In
Keeper Howard's 1885 report of the rescue of the crew of the A.F. Crocket
he writes, in his idiosyncratic style, "They weer cold. Had them [the
survivors] carried in boat to station, gaving them dry close, making
them as comfodled [comfortable] as cold [could]. Also sent Horse down
beach to stop beach apparatus. Men wore out. Returned to station 4 am,
beach being so bad, crew so wore out, left cart on beach."
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