AT the end of April the famous battleship Warspite, which was built over thirty years ago. and served with great distinction in two wars in all parts of the world, was being towed from Portsmouth by two tugs to a shipbreaker's yard on the Clyde to be broken up.

She had eight men on board. She came safely down Channel, but off Land's End she ran into bad weather and at 4.15 in the morning of the 22nd a message was sent out by the Duty Staff Officer at Portsmouth asking that two tugs and the nearest life-boat be ready to go to her help. She was then fifteen miles from the Wolf Rock, twenty miles to the south of Penlee, and nineteen miles south-west of The Lizard. The life-boat crews at both those stations assembled. About four hours later another message said that the weather was moderating and that there was no immediate danger. Both crews were dismissed.

Next day, the 23rd, at ten minutes to two in the afternoon, the coastguard called up the Penlee station to say that the Warspite had again broken away from "her tugs and was adrift one mile south by west of Cudden Point. A strong south-westerly gale was now blowing, with a rough sea.

The life-boat W. & S. was launched at two o'clock and found the Warspite aground on Mount Malpas Ledge.

With some difficulty, in the heavy seas, the, life-boat got near enough to hail her through the megaphone.

It was now dead low water, and the coxswain told her master that on the rising tide she would be in greater danger, for she would be floated off, and drift ashore. He advised him to abandon ship. The master refused, but it was not until later that it was learned that he thought it impossible to board the life-boat in those seas.

The Battleship Ashore The life-boat returned ashore and lay in Newlyn Harbour, as she could not be hauled up her slipway. That was at a quarter-past four. An hour later another message from the coastguard said that the warship had been driven off the ledge and was likely to come ashore, as the coxswain had told the master would happen. At half-past five the life-boat put out for the second time. The gale had increased and the sea was very rough. It took the lifeboat three-quarters of an hour to reach Cudden Point and she found the warship now aground inshore east of the front in Prussia Cove. Her bow was head to the wind and seas, her fo'c'sle was awash and the seas were breaking round B turret. The coxswain took the life-boat to windward of her, turned, and with the gale behind, approached her bows.

Thirty-Foot Waves Thirty-foot waves were coming down on her. All round was heavy broken water. Her starboard side was close to the shore. Off her port side, and at her stern, the coxswain could see rocks appearing and disappearing in the breaking seas. But between the battleship and the rocks was a channel about forty yards wide.

Down this channel the coxswain took the life-boat, pumping out oil as he went, with the rocks on his starboard hand and right ahead. In normal circumstances, approaching from windward, he would have anchored, veered down on his cable, fired his line-throwing gun and hauled the men into the lifeboat in the breeches-buoy, but in that narrow channel he dared not attempt it, for fear of yawing on to the rocks.

Since he could not do this, he must try to get alongside. At the stern of the warship he might have found some sort of shelter had he been able to come alongside there, but he could not do it, because of a boat slung out on davits on the quarter-deck. He chose a spot at the far end of the quarter-deck, turned in the narrow channel, and brought the life-boat near the battleship, head to wind. In a momentary lull, he threw two veering lines on board her. Then began the perilous task of holding the life-boat close enough for the men to jump into her. The rise and fall of the seas was so great that sometimes the life-boat's crew were looking down on the battleship's deck and next moment the boat was in grave danger of being smashed against the bulge near the battleship's water-line.

The Rescue Watching each sea, the coxswain went full-speed ahead to meet it, as it broke round B turret, and then, as it passed him, went full-speed astern again. For thirty-five minutes he was manoeuvring in this way, and as the life-boat swung close enough to the battleship, he would call on the men one by one to jump.

Seven of them jumped as soon as they were called, but the eighth took a long time before he would dare it.

Through those thirty-five dangerous minutes the two motor mechanics were kneeling perilously under the canopy in front of their controls. They could see nothing, and one error on their part in carrying out the coxswain's stream of orders would have meant disaster for the life-boat.

In this way all eight men were rescued and the life-boat brought them into Newlyn Harbour at quarter to eight that evening.

It had been a difficult and dangerous service, and the coxswain had shown not only great courage in deciding to take the life-boat by that narrow channel, but, once in it, great skill in handling her.

The Awards The Institution made the following awards: To COXSWAIN EDWIN F. MADRON, the silver medal for gallantry, with a copy of the vote inscribed on vellum.

To JOHN B. DREW, the motor mechanic, the bronze medal for gallantry v. i;h a copy of the vote inscribed on vellum.

To each other member of the crew, JOSEPH J. MADRON, second coxswain JOHN T. WORTH, bowman, J. C.

WALLIS, assistant motor mechanic, and A. MADRON, B. JEFFERY and C.

WILLIAMS, life-boatmen, the thanks of the Institution inscribed on vellum.

To the coxswain and each member of the crew a reward of £4 in addition to the ordinary scale rewards for the assembly and two launches, of £2 8*.

Standard rewards, £84 17*.; additional rewards, £32. Total rewards £66 17s..