Over the water from Milford Haven, where the tall chimneys of the oil refineries belch out their smoke, lies the small village of Angle, a village of about 200 inhabitants, a village which the Industrial Revolution seems almost to have passed by. Families of Pembrokeshire men have lived here for six generations and more, making their living by farming and fishing, and although the fish and the farms are less numerous than they used to be some men still work in the fields and with the cattle, and others go lobster-catching in season.

There are no cinemas in Angle, buses run only three times weekly in and out, no village hall, no Saturday night dances . . . the life-boat remains a community interest, bringing together the Allen-Mirehouses, the family to whom all Angle belongs, and the tenants of the low stone cottages and newer houses, some of whom still work on the Mirehouse estate.

Major Allen-Mirehouse, of The Hall, Angle, is honorary secretary of the station, a position held by his grandfather before him. It was his grandfather who came to Angle in the igth century, who bought the land for miles around, and who built the terrace of bright blue, Moroccan-style houses for life-boatmen's families which are nearest to the life-boathouse. Colonel Mirehouse became honorary secretary in 1890 and many times put to sea with the crew, taking over unquestioned command from the usual coxswain.

MEDALS FOR THEIR INTREPIDITY Major Allen-Mirehouse still has a copy of the letter dated 8th February, 1894, from Charles Dibdin, then Secretary of the Institution, informing his grandfather that he and two other members of the crew had been awarded the silver medal "in recognition of the intrepidity which you and they displayed in rescuing the 27 persons who had taken refuge on the rocks at Thorn Island from the stranded ship Loch Shiel on the night of the 30th ultimo." Cecil Hicks, now 90, remembers the Loch Shiel and is the only surviving member of the crew who took part in the rescue. "It was the pulling and sailing boat in those days, and we had to make two trips to get the survivors," he says.

"The ship was aground on the rocks and the crew were hanging onto the rigging.

"When the ship sank she had a cargo on board. The hatches were up and out came the cases of whisky. We couldn't take the whisky on board the life-boat but people from the village managed to get the cases out of the water. I remember one man and his two sons went out in a small boat looking for the cargo of whisky and two of them were drowned." HOW THEY CAME TO ANGLE Silver medals and whisky galore are two reasons why the Loch Shiel rescue is still remembered today, but Stanley Rees, former life-boat mechanic, can think of a third. "There were patchwork quilts on board, belonging to a girl who was on her way abroad to get married. They fell into the sea and were washed ashore - and that's how patchwork quilts first came to Angle." Stanley Rees was mechanic for 15 years, and previously drove a milk van for many years between Angle and Pembroke. Before the bus service began he used to take passengers to Pembroke in his van for is. return. Today the bus fare is over 45.

The present coxswain, Jack Watkins, does not remember the famous rescue but in his eight years as coxswain and his earlier years as bowman he has experienced difficult rescues in high seas and high winds. "But the spirit is there to come," he says. "It does not matter what the weather is like." SEVEN WATKINS AT SEA Since Coxswain Watkins took command, the life-boat has become more of a family activity. His brothers, Willy and Joe, are both regular members of the crew and so is one of his sons, Kevin. On one service by the life-boat he, his two brothers, and his four sons all put to sea together.

Whenever the life-boat returns from service, Coxswain Watkins stays behind in the boathouse to clean her. "I always want anyone who comes to see her to find her at her best," he says. Sometimes his wife helps too, walking across the fields to the life-boathouse on summer evenings to polish the brass-work of the capstans and bilge deck plates.

The tradition of life-boat service has long been in the coxswain's family. His great grandfather was also a coxswain in the days of the pulling and sailing boats and the first coxswain of Angle life-boat in the i86os was probably one of his ancestors.

UNCLES WERE IN THE CREW Benny Rees, the second coxswain, who has been in the crew for over 30 years, also comes from a life-boat family and so does Rees Holmes, the mechanic.

Benny Rees began as a life-boat helper when he was a boy of 15, encouraged by the example of his father, who was once the mechanic, and his uncle, a former coxswain. His two sons aged nine and n are now beginning to take an interest in the life-boat too. "It's a job to keep them in bed when the maroon goes." Rees Holmes who has been life-boat mechanic for four years and is a fitter and turner by trade, had two uncles in the crew, one of whom rowed in one of the pulling and sailing boats.

The youngest member of the crew, 2O-year-old Gerald Edwards, is the first in his family to be in the life-boat crew. Gerald "the Bush" works at Bush Farm - hence his nickname - but would have liked to join the navy. "I was asked if I would like to join the life-boat and when I got down to the boat-house the interest mounted straight away. The slightest swell upsets me but I am starting to get used to the sea. It is a thrill to know that you are going out to help someone." Until recently his nickname had a double significance. His hair was Beatlish and flowing and a visitor to the life-boat station remarked on its length. "Excuse me, sir, if it's not being rude," came the reply, "it's not the hair you want to look at, it's the ears and eyes." LONG WAY FROM THE VILLAGE Like the other members of the crew he has to ran across the fields when the maroon is fired. The boathouse is almost a mile from the centre of the village, on i shoulder of high land where the water of Milford Haven is deep enough for easy launching. At high tide, when the water laps into the small bay close to the tillage, the men have a longer distance to go, skirting round the water's edge, then past the Old Pointhouse, over the fields, and finally across a high, narrow feidge to the life-boathouse. Cars can be driven as far as the Old Pointhouse but BO farther: the last three-quarters of a mile must always be done on foot.

Colonel George Jackson, honorary treasurer of the station, is understandably proud of the speed with which the crew can launch the life-boat in times of emergency. "They can launch within 20 minutes of receiving a call," he says.

WILLING HELPERS Every time the 46-foot p-inch Watson life-boat Richard Vernon and Mary Garforth of Leeds goes out on service, there are willing helpers who speed her bunching. Harry Thomas is the head launcher, and has been connected with the fife-boat for over 20 years. Together with eight other helpers he ensures that the fife-boat is turned round on the turntable when she is winched back up the slipway after returning from service. On the turntable the life-boat's position is 'reversed so that she is ready for launching again. Seymour Rees, the shore attendant, has been involved in life-boat activities for over 40 years and was once a member of the crew. Nowadays he is responsible for firing the maroons and he remains on duty at the life-boathouse while the life-boat is away on service.

When the crew returns and the life-boat is safely at rest again, the crew and the helpers usually adjourn to the Old Pointhouse for pints of beer. Until recently and for about 200 years previously, the pub was run by the Morse family and Willie Morse, former winchman, still lives nearby. Licensees come and licensees go but Angle life-boatmen can always be sure of a welcome at the Old Pointhouse..