SIR. - Since it would appear that no record has been made of the Institu- tion's earliest effort at mechanization, I am most interested in preparing a paper covering the inception of the steam life-boat; its design; building and method of operation.

Should any of your readers be in a position to be kind enough to furnish me with any technical data; drawings; photographs or authoritative informa- tion in this connection, I would be most grateful.

Yours faithfully, P. SPENCER The Corner House, Codmore Hill, Pulborough, Sussex.

20th January, 1964.

SIR. - This is a true account of two rather unprofessional fishermen who bit off more than they could chew last weekend.

We understood from a local wise- acre that it was not too bad for a trip from Teignmouth to Exmouth Bar to fish the flatties. The wind was Force 2 and we failed to notice the scud in the sky.

Feeling full of confidence, we loaded the Norwegian fibreglass dory with all the bits and pieces of fishing gear and a 20 Ib. sea anchor. We failed to take flares or Very pistol.

In a fairish sea we made good time to beyond Dawlish Warren. The diesel engine sounded strong enough for a non-stop Channel crossing.

Then the mighty old sea started to get uppish and the wind turned into a gale. With waves of up to 15 feet we turned her head into the teeth of it.

From somewhere among the rollers there came a king wave, curling its lip and snarling at the little craft.

When it had passed we were half-full of water and very wet. By this time we were some 600 yards off Exmouth Bell buoy.

Then we heard the cough of a dying engine, the wicked sound of a fly- wheel doing battle with the sea in the boat, and the realization that water had been sucked in the air intake. A few more turns and she cut.

Beam on, we took a terrific beating.

At that moment we remembered the heavy anchor and having cut away the fishing lines gathered round the anchor rope we got it over, and after a seeming age her head came round and the angry coasters hit us nonstop stem on. Up and up and over and down the troughs seemed further at each attack.

Now for help, or so we thought.

Have you ever tried to signal the shore with rags on oar ends ? We could see the cars and the odd people, but try as we did, no one saw us.

For an hour we crashed and twisted in the boiling morass and then with the wind shrieking its wildest tune so far, we realized we were being driven on the bar. Soon she would beach with the wild sea behind and the cut before.

We pulled in the anchor and let her be driven. The question was, what would happen to an 18-foot boat with a heavy diesel engine when buffeted on a sandbank.

We got over the side and held her as well as we could against a beam attack.

For over an hour we held her, and at last, with a rush, we were over the bar and sprawling on the bottom boards.

We used two small oars as paddles and helped the wind blow us ashore.Quite by accident we landed right on the life-boat strip from whence we had hoped to see help, and it was then we saw just how little one can see in a real gale.

The Harding dory was pumped out. At the first swing the engine started, and she was pushed out into surf and taken down to the harbour.

Not a mark, not a scratch to be seen. Thank God for the men who designed her, for her exact type has been in constant North Sea use for 15 years. There is no doubt that without the fantastically tough seaworthiness of this craft there would have been two more entries in the obituary col- umn of the newspapers.

The lessons we have learned are obvious. We hope others will learn from reading this. The sea is, indeed, a good friend, but give her all the res- pect you can muster, even if it does look perfect.

Yours faithfully, W. L. MIEVILLE and Friend 64, Third Avenue, Teignmouth.

2 ist November, 1963..