Dial 999 for fire, police, ambulance, life-boat.

Those words on the cover of the Jersey telephone directory, in large type, caught my eye soon after I landed on the island. They sum up very neatly the efficient way in which the emergency services of the island are integrated, and the important part the life-boat plays in the life of the island. The people of Jersey are tremendously proud of their life-boat and of its crew.

That telephone directory was, I discovered, an old one. The new one, just out, has the words "sea rescue" in place of "life-boat". More accurate, though less heartwarming, the change was made necessary by further improvements in the sea rescue organisation.

There are no coastguards on Jersey. That time honoured phrase in our service reports which irritates some readers by the frequency of its appearance—"the coastguard informed the honorary secretary ..."—does not appear in reports of service by the St. Helier life-boat, Elizabeth Rippon. Members of the public often give the alarm, via the 999 service. Reports of a ship in distress, or other incident at sea, go to the sea rescue centre in the harbour office. This centre is always manned by a Duty Harbour Officer, who is a master mariner, and always available. Even if he has taken a stroll out of his office he can still be contacted immediately as he carries a portable walkie-talkie set wherever he goes.

The Duty Harbour Officer also has the title of Duty Life-boat Officer, with authority to launch the life-boat on his own initiative if the honorary secretary is not available, or if an immediate launch is necessary to save life. He may alternatively, if an inshore rescue boat is indicated, switch the emergency call to the fire service.

They have an IRB, very similar to the RNLI's type, which is kept at the fire service headquarters at St. Helier. Mounted ready for towing to any part of the island by the red Land Rover (which has the two-toned fire service horn for clearing a way through traffic) this IRB can be rushed into service with its trained crew as quickly as a fire appliance.

AIR/SEA CO-OPERATION Air/sea co-operation at its closest is a feature of the Jersey station. Three airline pilots are among the life-boat crew. The sea rescue centre can at any time ask the airport for help in searching from the air. As Jersey is the second busiest airport in the United Kingdom the chances are that an incoming or outgoing plane may be able to give an immediate report on the position of a casualty. A light aircraft can also be sent up from the club at short notice.

Excellent liaison with the French means that helicopter help can be got to the scene very quickly from the French bases at Rennes, Quimpers, or Granville.

An instance of this immediate help was the rescue on 3rd September, 1965, of a badly burned boy from the Ecrehous—a reef between Jersey and France on which a few people have summer homes.

The moment news of the accident and a request for help reached Jersey the sea rescue service went into action. The life-boat Elizabeth Rippon slipped her moorings—she is kept permanently afloat in St. Helier harbour—and set out.

The honorary secretary, Mr. P. G. Baker, contacted the airport commandant, in view of the urgency of the case, and the help of the Protection Civile Francaise helicopter, based at Granville, was requested. The helicopter was soon airborne and when it had landed on the Ecrehous the life-boat was recalled. The helicopter picked up the injured boy and landed him on the beach at St. Helier, where an ambulance was waiting.

DISADVANTAGE A mainland life-boat has only to put straight out to sea to find the casualty hi distress. The Jersey boat sometimes has to make its way round the island.

"We could do with a bit more speed on such occasions," Mr. Baker remarked wistfully. "Mind you, our present boat is first class and we wouldn't change her for anything. We know she can stand up to the roughest weather. But when we're called out in fairly smooth weather, as often happens, then we'd like more speed. I suppose the best solution to Jersey's problems would be to have one of the new 44-foot steel boats when they come along—to keep alongside our present boat. Then we could go out in the most suitable one according to the weather." Crew members agreed. But they pointed out that the steel boat would definitely have to be a second one, not a replacement. For really rough weather their faith was in a wooden hull.

"If you hit anything in the seas round Jersey it's going to be hard, very hard," Coxswain Edward Cyril Larbalestier remarked with a reminiscent twinkle in his eyes. "It's going to be granite. We've bumped a few times in the course of services, but no serious harm has come to the boat." SILVER MEDAL Coxswain Edward Larbalestier was awarded the silver medal for gallantry in 1951, the year he was appointed, for saving the French yacht Santa Maria and her crew of three. The yacht had gone aground on rocks a mile or so east of St.

Helier harbour, in a position that was extremely dangerous to approach. The service (fully reported in the April 1952 issue of THE LIFE-BOAT) was made on the night of 27th September, 1951. There was a fresh south-westerly wind and a swell of six to eight feet. Storms of rain made visibility very poor. The yacht could not be found at first, and a dangerous search among the rocks for nearly two hours was necessary, in complete darkness, before the Santa Maria was found in a gulley.

STRUCK A ROCK That was one of the occasions when the stout wooden hull of the Elizabeth Rippon was put to the test, for the life-boat came down in the trough of a swell and struck a rock hard, fortunately without damage. For this rescue, made with great skill, determination, and courage, the Institution also awarded vellums to the eight members of the crew.

St. Helier life-boat station was established in 1884. Formerly the States of Jersey had their own life-boat station at St. Helier, and in 1825, a year after the founding of the RNLI, a gold medal was awarded by the Institution to three of the crew of the Alderney boat: F. de St. Croix, Jean de St. Croix, P. de St.

Croix. A silver medal was awarded to Philip Nicolle. Today descendants of those medallists are to be found in the crew of the Jersey life-boat.

In 1872 silver medals were awarded to three members of the crew of the Jersey boat for a rescue from a ship aground on the Ecrehous rocks. Since World War II gold, silver, and bronze medals have gone to the coxswains. In all, Jersey's record of medals stands at four gold, five silver, and eight bronze.

From 1940-1945 Jersey was occupied by the Germans and the life-boat was not, of course, under the control of the R.N.L.I. However, she still went out on her life-saving missions—often to Germans—with a German guard on board.

During the occupation she saved 35 lives.

Since the war only three gold medals have been awarded by the RNLI. Two of these have gone to Channel Islanders—one to St. Helier, one to St. Peter Port.

FIRST WITH DECK CABIN In 1948 the present life-boat, Elizabeth Rippon, built with money from a legacy by Mrs. Elizabeth Rippon, of Hull, was sent to the St. Helier station.

A 46 ft. 9 in. Watson type, she was the first life-boat to have a deck cabin.

She is a familiar sight to visitors to Jersey, lying as she does at moorings in the middle of the harbour. The tidal rise and fall is spectacular - as much as forty feet.

There is some nostalgia in Jersey for the previous boat, Howard D, stationed there from 1937-1948. Local feeling is that she should have been given a permanent home on the island and put on exhibition, instead of being sold.

A feat of endurance at sea which occurred in October 1964 is still fresh in the minds of the crew. It was reported in the March 1965 issue of THE LIFEBOAT.

When winds of 108 miles an hour were lashing the island the five people aboard the motor yacht Maricelia were swept overboard south west of Jersey.

The yacht motored on and was found that evening motoring in circles near the entrance to St. Helier harbour. The life-boat made a search for survivors, in the appalling weather conditions, but had to abandon it when darkness fell.

The next day the search was resumed, but proved fruitless. Then, nearly at noon, a girl of twenty-one staggered ashore on the north-east coast of Jersey.

She was Alison Mitchell, and she had been in the gale-lashed sea ever since being swept off the Maricelia. Her companions had been drowned and she had swum on alone. When she struggled ashore she was exhausted, nearly frozen, cut, bruised, and battered. Her body was bloated with water and her eyes so swollen that she could only see by forcing the lids open with her fingers. Yet she found the will and strength to climb a steep 200 foot cliff and eventually collapsed into the arms of a farmer.

"That girl's feat of endurance was amazing, a miracle," said Coxswain Edward Larbalastier. "It's a story that deserves to be properly told by someone.

Think of what she must have been through, seeing her closest friends drowned, and yet she went on . . ." SEARCH MUST GO ON He smoked his pipe reflectively. "For life-boat people her survival has underlined one thing. The search must always go on. Nobody would have believed that she could have survived for so long in that sea in a hurricane, but she did.

There's always hope. Alison Mitchell proved that. The search for survivors from a wreck must go on, and on, long after you think it's hopeless." So long as there are men in the world like those of the Jersey crew we can be sure that the search will go on, and on, though hurricanes rage..