Bohemia Village Voice

November Night in Rye 1928

I was in bed well before Fred came home with his Dad in the early hours of that morning. Both had been working on the night shift on the dredger in the harbour. Even though the harbour was sheltered the wind and rain had made work heavy going and they were wet and tired out.

Fred, our youngest, shared a room with his brother Charlie who was fast asleep and he went straight to bed. My husband came to bed and went to sleep while I lay awake next to him listening to the shrieking wind. I heard roof tiles crashing onto the road outside the window and thought that the storm which had been steadily building up for three days was standing to its full angry height directly over the town. I was waiting for the shout, praying it would not be tonight. November was one of the worst months.
Then came the launchers’ signal. It broke suddenly over the town so everyone had heard it above the wind. Except for Fred. He slept without a stir. I told my husband and Charlie please be to God let him rest and sleep on. My husband said quietly two from one family was enough as he got back into his wet clothes.
Charlie turned to me and said “Someone may need help – best go.” He followed his Dad out the front door into the dark. I looked in on Fred who still slept deeply. I made up Charlie’s empty bed and checked the little coal fire glowing in the grate. The draft from the chimney was making the embers flicker and glow in the dark. I closed his bedroom door quietly as I left.
It seemed like the sea was throwing swathes of salty waves over the town while everywhere the shop signs swayed madly in the wind. I got dressed and put on my winter cape and went out. Everyone in town seemed to be up fumbling around in the darkness, getting horses and carts ready to follow the boatmen to the boat house. The word was that a steamer with a cargo of bricks had been holed and lost her rudder to a German vessel she collided with further up the coast. The German vessel was standing by but it was too dangerous to attempt to lift the steamers’ crew in tumultuous seas and the darkness. It was left to our boatmen to attempt a rescue.
I saw Elsie from the Vicarage coming down the lane in a horse and trap with her father from the Vicarage. He must have let her come because she was close to Charlie. They shouted at me to climb up and we joined others riding out to the boat house. We passed many villagers running or walking along the mile and a half it took us to get there. Already the doors of the boat house were open and the boat was out on the shingle.
The water was low and the boat would have to be hauled over shingle beach before it could be launched. Many women were there helping in dragging the boat to the water. We had to lay thick greased ropes across its way to ease it along to where the sea was raging. It took the lifeboat men three attempts to get past the white foam that broke over them and each time we held our breath for fear of one or more of them being crushed under the weight of the boat being tossed back and forth.
I could no longer see my husband or Charlie.