(Member of the crew of the Beaumaris life-boat) IT was seven o'clock in the morning and raining slightly as I walked through the deserted streets of Gote- borg down to the docks where I was to board the Swedish rescue-cruiser Wilh: R. Lundgren of Roro. The seagulls were screaming, and although the gale could not be felt in the city, the clouds were scurrying across the pink sky, signs which prophesied an uncomfortable trip once we had left the shelter of the harbour. But I was rather pleased that the weather was bad, as it would give me the oppor- tunity of seeing how the vessels used by the Swedish Society for Rescuing the Shipwrecked (Svenska Sallskapet for Raddning af Skeppsbrutne) be- haved under working conditions.

By the time that I had reached Stenpiren, where the rescue-cruiser was lying, the wind had freshened con- siderably and was driving the rain almost horizontally between the rail- way trucks which were lined up along the quay. I found her without much difficulty and went aboard in search of her skipper, Herr Westerstrom, who told me that he had received a message from Captain Hansson, the Director of S.S.R.S., who had very kindly arranged for me to accompany the Will): R. Lundgren to sea. This, he said, was fortunate, as one of the crew of four had had to go to the hos- pital in Goteborg, and he would otherwise have been one man short.

Sweden's Voluntary Service Few people in this country are familiar with the life-boats which are used abroad. Sweden has a very fine life-saving service supported by volun- tary contributions, in addition to the one which is supported by the State.

The S.S.R.S. not only provides life- boats, but also life-saving rocket apparatus, and has its own look-out and intelligence services. It has three main types of life-boat in use at present, the largest of these being rescue-cruisers which are 64 ft. 8 in.

in length, with a beam of 19 ft. 6 in.

and a draft of 7 ft. 8 in. This type is powered by a single diesel engine of 210 h.p., but they generally do most of their patrolling under sail, only using the engine when conditions require it. They are very comfortable boats in heavy weather, and they need to be, for they often have to remain at sea for several days.

The medium sized boats are 44 ft.

3 in. in length, having a beam of 11 ft. 8 in., a draft of 4 ft. 1 in. and are equipped with a diesel engine of 85 h.p. Like all other Swedish life- boats, they have a mast, which is also used as an exhaust-pipe, and a suit of sails. This type, together with the smaller 32-ft. boats, is used for emer- gency work, in just the same way as the R.N.L.I. uses its life-boats in this country. They are manned by a volunteer crew, which is large when compared with the full-time crew of four in the rescue-cruisers.

New Boats of Steel The older life-boats and rescue- cruisers were built of oak, with bows which were specially strengthened so that they would not suffer damage from the ice which occurs around the Swedish coast in winter, but most of the newer vessels have been built of steel. All of them are equipped with radar, radio-telephony and radio- direction-finding apparatus, and in even the smallest there is a totally enclosed wheel-house and a cabin con- taining bunks and a cooking-stove.

It was one of these older, oak-built boats that I found waiting at the quay.

We cast off from Stenpiren at nine o'clock and moved slowly down the river through sheets of driving rain.

Soon we left the shelter of the land, and emerged from the river into the archipelago of small islands and clus- ters of bare rocks, which blocks the mouth of the river and protects the port from the westerly gales which sweep down the Skager-Rak into the Kattegat from the North Sea. By this time there was quite a swell, and the Wilh: R. Lundgren had begun to roll in a beam sea and to slide down the sides of the waves with a sickening sort of lurch. Capt. Westerstrom, completely unmoved by the frightful motion, remarked that he had seen many worse seas off the Isle of Man, that this particular sea could not possibly develop into anything worth worrying about, as we were in the lee of Denmark (about forty miles away), and that it was time for breakfast.

He pointed to a lighthouse perched on a rock about half a mile away, and barely visible on account of the rain and spray, and told me to take the wheel and pass it to leeward. When it came abeam, he explained, I was to sound the fog- horn, step out of the wheel-house and wave to the lighthouse-keeper.

Gale in the Kattegat The lighthouse-keeper waved back, and we altered course to south-west.

We rolled and plunged our way down the Kattegat for some time, until, at about three o'clock in the afternoon, we again altered course, this time for Goteborg and home. By now the wind had freshened considerably, and the seas were increasing in size. At each plunge we sank our bows into the waves, the green water came pour- ing aft along past the wheel-house in torrents along the decks. It was blowing a good Force 7 gale, and the rain and spray which was beating on the wheel-house window made life rather uncomfortable. If we kept the window open so that we were able to see reasonably well, the water, which ran along the main-boom and spurted off the end of it, poured through on to the helmsman inside. On the other hand, if we shut the window to keep the water out, it also meant that we shut the view out as well and we then could see absolutely nothing whatever —a dangerous state of affairs in those rock-strewn waters.

Sunset over the Gota About this time we had another meal, consisting of cold bacon and a wedge of cold tea-cake, which was very much of the same consistancy as an un-toasted muffin, washed down with some hot coffee.

We returned to Goteborg in the evening without having encountered any vessel needing our help. The rain had stopped by this time, and as we motored up the river Gota there was a very beautiful sunset. As we approached Stenpiren, we saw the deck-hand who had been to the hos- pital waiting for us to come alongside.

We hung the fenders over the star- board side, and as Capt. Westerstrom brought the rescue-cruiser gently alongside the steps of the quay, the deck-hand jumped aboard and I jumped ashore. I climbed up the steps and walked to the end of the pier to wave farewell to the crew of the Wilh: R. Lundgren, who were already on their way back to their station at Roro, in Apelvik, north of Goteborg.

It was a most interesting experience and a very happy memory..