THE telephone rings long and loud ; time 5.25 A.M., 22nd March, 1937. I hasten to answer it and am informed by the coastguard that Seaforth Radio has given them a message that the s.s.

Marie Moller was on fire ten miles south-west of the South Stack at 4.36 A.M. I hurriedly dressed and went to the look-out hut to find the correct position of the vessel, calling at the motor mechanic's house on the way, knocking him up and telling him to get on board and start up his engines as soon as possible. Then on to the look- out, arriving about 5.50 A.M. Here I ascertained, from the information avail- able, the approximate course that the vessel would take, and the maroons calling out the life-boat were fired at 5.55 A.M. I went to the life-boat and, all being in readiness, I gave the acting coxswain his instructions, and the life-boat left her berth at 6.5 A.M., exactly thirty minutes from the time I jumped out of bed to answer the first telephone call.

Bitterly Cold.

It was bitterly cold, a thing I had not noticed till after the life-boat had set out. A lumpy sea and strong gale, with, at intervals, flurries of snow and showers of hail (this weather improved as the day wore on). The life-boat was many times completely hidden from view, but making good progress, she came up with the Marie Moller, which by this tune had been sighted coining round the North Stack, escorted by the liner Accra.

The Marie Moller continued to make good headway towards Holy- head, and the life-boat made two attempts to get alongside her to windward while she was under way.

She could not do it, on account of the heavy seas. Then she tried to get alongside to leeward, but was enveloped in thick black smoke which was too much for her.

The flames had by this time reached the navigation bridge-; the saloon deck and fittings were burning; the vessel had slowed down (probably because the engineers and firemen had been driven from their posts by the fire), and an anchor was let go.

The life-boat then attempted to get the Marie Moller in tow by taking a hawser from her to the Trinity House steamer Beacon, but the rope parted. The master, see- ing the hopelessness of dealing with the fire, which was rapidly spread- ing, decided to get the crew out of the vessel, and, calling the life-boat, asked that they should be taken off.

The side plating of the ship was so hot that the life-boat could not go along- side, and had to get under her quarter.

Fifty-Nine Saved—and the Ship's Dog.

Fifty-nine men, mostly Chinese, with their belongings and the ship's dog, were brought ashore the first trip, and when the life-boat returned to the ship she found that the master, officers and remainder of the crew had been taken off by the Beacon after a violent explosion in the hold. Two of the ship's boats were found and brought ashore, and the life-boat then left the ship, which was well alight from end to end, and returned to her berth.

The master (Captain Anderson) gave the ship's papers to the coxswain of the life-boat to bring ashore for safe custody. I returned them to him and he thanked me for the prompt arrival of the life-boat and for the help given him. He told me that he had had a very trying time. The fire had started soon after midnight, followed by an explosion. They had used every en- deavour to deal with the outbreak, but the heat had become more intense, and they had been driven from the bridge and had had to navigate and steer the ship from aft. The cargo consisted of ground nuts and linseed cake, which had burned furiously, and the fire had spread very rapidly.

The crew were cared for by the repre- sentative of the Shipwrecked Mariners' Society, and the Marie Moller herself was beached by the salvage steamer Ranger. There she was still burning three days after, the flames reaching a great height, and was likely to burn for another twenty-four hours..