A HAVEN OR REFUGE on a dangerous coast along which small sailing ships in their hundreds once traded between London and the north; a commercial port for small merchant ships; a harbour for boats fishing the unpredictable North Sea; now a growing centre for yachting and pleasure boating. It is not surprising that Whitby has a long and proud history of lifesaving at sea. Its first lifeboat was one of the earliest 'Originals' built by Greathead of South Shields. She was stationed on the west side of the harbour in 1802 and her coming was the start of a tradition which has remained unbroken to this day. For many years there were in fact three pulling and sailing boats serving this key Yorkshire harbour, a lifeboat being stationed on the east side in 1822 and at Upgang in 1865. Whitby received its first motor lifeboat in 1919 but, although the Upgang boat was withdrawn that same year, the original No. 1 pulling and sailing station remained operational until 1934 and the original No. 2 station until 1957.

Whitby still has two lifeboats, and they are two of the most modern in the RNLI fleet: a 44ft Waveney fast afloat steel offshore lifeboat The White Rose of Yorkshire which is backed up by an inflatable D class ILB.

Altogether, Whitby lifeboatmen have rescued nearly 900 people and have been awarded 33 medals for gallantry: five gold medals, 14 silver and 14 bronze, the last silver being awarded to Coxswain Robert Allen and the last bronze to Helmsman Richard Robinson for the service to Admiral Van Tromp, wrecked after grounding near Black Nab Rock in.1976. Such a fine record was not achieved without sacrifice and over the years 21 Whitby lifeboatmen have given their lives for fellow seamen.

The greatest disaster occurred during a storm in February, 1861 when 210 ships were lost along the north east coast, nine of them wrecked on the sands of Whitby. Whitby lifeboats had succeeded in launching five times and had rescued the crews of five of these nine ships before a lifeboat was herself capsized with the tragic loss of 12 of the 13 men on board. It was after this great storm that union with the RNLI took place.

Of the many services of Whitby lifeboats, two are perhaps particularly renowned: those to the brig Visitor in 1881 and to the hospital ship Rohilla in 1914.

It was a bitter January day in 1881 when Visitor sank in Robin Hood's Bay and her crew of six had to take to their boat and come to anchor. There was no way that Whitby lifeboat could reach them by sea but, the townspeople nothing daunted, she was hauled six miles over hills seven feet deep in snow, her carriage dragged by horses while men went ahead to dig out a path.

In little more than two hours she had reached the cliff top, been manhandled down the treacherous path into the bay and immediately launched. An hour later, her steer oar and six other oars broken in the terrific seas, she was forced back to the shore. With new oars and manned by a double crew she launched again, finally reaching the survivors an hour and a half later and bringing them 'exhausted and benumbed' to safety. Having in the last year passed through just such a wild and bitter winter we are, perhaps, the better able to appreciate the strength, stoicism and dogged determination of those early lifeboatmen and of all the Whitby people who defied the seemingly impossible.

One of the greatest epics in the whole history of lifesaving was surely the service to the hospital ship Rohilla, wrecked at Saltwick Nab in an eastsouth- easterly gale and tremendous seas on October 30, 1914. The story of the next 48 hours of struggle against raging wind and sea has been told many times and will never be forgotten: how Whitby No. 2 lifeboat, John Fielden, after being dragged along the rocky shore, took off 35 survivors before she herself, repeatedly bumping on rocks, became unseaworthy; how Upgang lifeboat was brought through the town and lowered by ropes down the cliff; how Scarborough, Teesmouth and Whitby No. 1 lifeboats all tried to reach the wreck towed by steam boats, but to no avail; how Upgang lifeboat struggled to within 50 yards of Rohilla but had to give up in the end, her crew utterly exhausted; and how finally Tynemouth motor lifeboat, after battling 45 miles against the gale down the dangerous unlit coast, managed to take off the last 50 survivors. For their part in the rescue Coxswain Thomas Langlands of Whitby was awarded the gold medal and Second Coxswain Richard Eglon the silver medal. Another silver medal was awarded to George Peart who, with conspicuous bravery, repeatedly went into the sea to help those who had jumped from Rohilla or who had been washed overboard.

That was at the beginning of the First World War and at the end of the war, in 1919, a motor lifeboat came to Whitby.

Nevertheless, Whitby has the distinction of being the last station to man a pulling and sailing lifeboat. When the 34ft Robert and Ellen Robson, pulling ten oars, was withdrawn in 1957 she brought to an end a chapter of maritime history. Now, in honourable retirement, she still helps the lifeboat service because she is one of the main exhibits of Whitby Lifeboat Museum, in the old boathouse, created and cared for by Eric Thomson who was station honorary secretary when Robert and Ellen Robson was operational. Schoolchildren and holidaymakers in their hundreds visit the old boathouse every year and are welcomed by Eric and his principal helper, William Dryden, a former member of the crew. He had served as assistant mechanic from 1938 to 1951 and as motor mechanic from 1951 to 1967; he was awarded the bronze medal for gallantry in 1940.

As part of the RNLI's 150th anniversary celebrations in 1974, Robert and Ellen Robson was exhibited at both the International Lifeboat Exhibition at Plymouth and at the London Boat Show which came at the end of the 'Year of the Lifeboat'. She was also launched again—this time on the Thames to be rowed by a crew of ex-Oxford and Cambridge boat club presidents.

And so the pages turn. What of Whitby today? The cliffs, the rocks, the sands, the sea—they are still there, friends and enemies, as they have always been. At one end of Whitby Bay lies Sandsend Ness, described by the Admiralty Pilot as 'as abrupt point fringed by rocky ledges'; at the other end is Saltwick Nab, '« dark and rockypromontory'; and Black Nab, 'a dark, rocky islet'. Then there are outcrops running out from the land: Upgang Rocks, to the north west of the harbour entrance, and the Scar and Whitby Rock close to the east. These rocks, covered in weed and kelp, dry in places and swell breaks heavily over them. It is a coastline the lifeboat crew must know well and in great detail, so practice in coastal recognition, both visual and radar, plays an important part in the station's regular lifeboat exercise.

Old wisdom goes hand in hand with modern aids. Time-honoured knowledge of landmarks and their bearings gleaned from long experience, committed to memory in traditional local saws and passed down by word of mouth from one generation of fishermen to the next, has its place. So does the study of present-day charts and in particular of the large scale Ordnance Survey map which shows every rock and indentation.

Radar practice includes bringing The White Rose of Yorkshire back into her harbour pen 'blindfold' and of course knowledge and experience of the harbour itself and its approaches in all states of the sea is vital. The Harbour Authority gives the following description: 'Whitby Harbour is situated at the mouth of the River Esk, with a total area of about 80 acres. The arms of the entrance piers extend out to sea in a northerly direction leaving the entrance exposed in strong winds from the north west through north to north east, and sheltered from other directions.

'The flood tide sets across the entrance from west to east and care has to be exercised when entering on a spring tide flood So Whitby is on a lee shore in northerly gales, and, with no land between Spitsbergen and the Yorkshire coast, a storm-driven sea will have come a long way before it breaks its fury on the land. A shelf or rock running out under the water five miles, then dropping steeply away, produces very short, steep seas with heavy surf and the hazardous conditions which may have to be met crossing the bar at the harbour mouth are well illustrated by the photograph on the previous page. Such waves will certainly stop a boat trying to put to sea unless she has the power to butt her way through. The White Rose of Yorkshire, with her twin General Motors 8V53 diesel engines each developing 260 shp at 2,800 rpm, has such power; she can always get out even though, the service done, she may have to take shelter elsewhere, until, the weather abating, it is possible to return safely to station.

Fishing is a major industry in Whitby.

Cod, plaice, whiting, skate, salmon, crabs and lobsters are brought into the fish quay in the lower harbour and now, as in the past, the lifeboat fufils a protective role towards the fishing fleet, launching to stand by cobles making the dangerous run into harbour in wild weather. Although, with improved weather warnings and with Coxswain Peter Thomson aboard The White Rose of Yorkshire in her pen. Moored on vertical sliding moorings, with low friction fenders, she rises and falls with the tide.

Boarding is by vertical ladder.

the coming of larger, stouter trawlers which can stay at sea for two or more days, this is a diminishing responsibility, nevertheless, there are still small boats and there is still the danger that they may be caught out. Lifeboats generally stand by inside the harbour while the boats come in but The White Rose of Yorkshire can, if necessary, easily go out to meet them to tell a skipper the exact state of the sea in the entrance.

Whitby also has a long history of commerce and shipbuilding. As early as the sixteenth century alum mined at Guisborough was being shipped out from this harbour, there was trade in coal from Newcastle in the seventeenth century, and the port provided a closed-season home for whalers and Baltic traders in the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries. Captain James Cook, eighteenth century circumnavigator, explorer and marine surveyor par excellence, first went to sea as an apprentice to Walkers, shipowners of Whitby, sailing to Newcastle, Norway and the Baltic.

Sea trade lapsed in the years of depression between the two world wars but the docking of a timber ship from the Baltic in 1958 was the start of a revival and now some 250 cargo vessels of 300 to 1,000 tons come in each year, trading in steel, paper, timber, fertilisers, chemicals and general cargo mostly with north Europe but also going as far as Portugal, Greece and the Black Sea. In bad weather these cargo vessels may have to stand off, and that in itself can be a potential danger.

Side by side with the revival in commercial shipping has been an impressive growth in pleasure boating. Just after the war there were 18 boats in Whitby Yacht Club; now there are some 400. Holidaymakers have come in increasing numbers to enjoy this picturesque town and its beaches and most of the ILB's calls are to go to the help of small boats or bathers in difficulties, or people cut off by the tide.

The cliffs present a particular hazard for the unwary; being crumbly they provide a rewarding hunting ground for geologists or for students searching for fossils, but it also means that they are very treacherous.

The harbour forms a natural focus for the lifeboat station. The harbour master. Captain Gordon Cook, is the lifeboat launching authority, while his deputy, Captain Noel Jameson, is also a lifeboat DLA. From their office on the west side, looking out over the harbour and its approaches, there is 24- hour cover. Coxswain/Mechanic Peter Thomson is also coxswain of the pilot boat; Second Coxswain/Assistant Mechanic Dennis Carrick is a boatman; and Crew Member Howard Bedford is harbour foreman. Together with Crew Members Terence Hansell, a fisherman, and Alfred Headlam, who is an ex-merchant seaman, they make up the regular crew for The White Rose of Yorkshire. Reserve members come from the ILB crew, who go out regularly on exercise with the offshore boat. Senior ILB Helmsman Michael Coates, who runs a yacht chandlery, also works down by the harbour.

Bonds are very close at Whitby. The branch chairman, Alan Marshall, and station honorary secretary, Ben Dean were both 'founder' crew members of the first inshore lifeboat back in 1966. It was Ben Dean, then senior helmsman, who trained Peter Thomson as an ILB crew member before he became motor mechanic and later coxswain/mechanic of the offshore boat. Peter's father, Eric, was still at that time station honorary secretary. ILB Crew Member Brian Hodgson, who, like Michael Ccates, has been awarded the bronze medal for gallantry and also the thanks of the Institution inscribed on vellum, is married to the daughter of Captain David Stevenson, the former harbour master and launching authority.

Lifeboat station and Coastguard work together very closely, too. The Coastguard station is up on the east cliffs and from that look-out point a good watch can be kept on the bay, the sands and the cliffs as well as out to sea. In the days before radio a system of light signals had been worked out out by which the Coastguard, from their higher viewpoint, could direct the lifeboat to a casualty. Now, during a service, the CG mobile gives a moving Coastguard presence parallel with the lifeboat. Each service can, of course, help the other with searchlights and flares.

There is another member of the 'team' held in great affection by the lifeboat community of Whitby: Miss Gwynaeth Milburn, the donor of both The White Rose of Yorkshire, which went on station in 1974, and of the present inshore lifeboat, which went on station in 1978. From the very first Miss Milburn added to her gift a keen interest in the lifeboat and her people.

Warm mutual friendship quickly grew.

As soon as The White Rose returns from a service Howard Bedford, one of the crew, writes to Miss Milburn to give her a first-hand account of all that took place and every one of those letters is treasured. Treasured, too, are the model of the lifeboat made for her by Peter Thomson in 1976 and the framed pictures of the boats given to her by the crew. Photographs, newspaper cuttings, programmes, in fact all mementos of the lifeboat station are carefully kept in scrapbooks.

It was after the station's former ILB had been thrown back on to rocks in very heavy seas and irretrievably damaged during the service in June, 1977, portrayed on the cover of the last issue of the journal that Miss Milburn made her second gift; and it was the express wish of the crew that this new ILB should be named Gwynaeth after her.

Miss Milburn has also been elected an honorary crew member and has promised that if she hears the maroons from her home in Harrogate she will most certainly come down to the boathouse.

She does, however, have some reservations about manning the ILB! Miss Milburn has herself worked hard for the lifeboat service. She reorganised the Harrogate ladies' guild after the last war, acting as honorary secretary from 1952 to 1961 and remaining as a member of the committee since then. And that was only one of her many contributions to the community in a very busy life in which she has certainly lived up to the motto nil sine labore.

In the First World War she served as a VAD for five years, nursing in a military hospital at Bethnal Green.

There were 60 men in each of the wards which bore such names as 'Innocence' and 'Patience'. 'On air raid nights I always seemed to be in "Hope"!' Miss Milburn remembers with a smile. After that war service and a short acting career, during which she played Beatrice to a very young John Gielgud's Benedict and appeared before royalty in a London charity matinee, Miss Milburn taught elocution in her home town and served as secretary to the judging committee of a Harrogate juvenile drama festival.

The Second World War found her leading a YMCA canteen in Harrogate station yard—'We cooked 24 miles of sausages in that canteen'—and later she became honorary secretary of Yorkshire's Women's Auxiliary of the YMCA. She also served as a magistrate from 1943 to 1969.

A busy life indeed, with its threads now woven firmly into the story of the lifeboat service. Miss Milburn is a life governor of the Institution, but more than that she is a well-loved honorary crew member and one of the family of a fine lifeboat station which, looking back with pride to the earliest days of lifesaving at sea, is always ready for whatever demands future maritime traffic may make upon it..