Still going strong It may be of interest to some of your readers that the actual barometer featured on p. 312 of your Spring 1986 edition is still in good working order and situated in a glass panelled recess in a wall at the village of Alnmouth in Northumberland .-JOHN R. LITTLE, District Controller, HM Coastguard, Tynemouth.

Playing our song As box secretary for the Winchester Branch, I visit many different places to empty boxes. Recently I visited a pub and found the landlord practising on an organ which was installed in the saloon bar. As I was counting the money he started to play Eternal Father, our lifeboat hymn, and continued for several minutes. I found it quite stirring and mused to myself as to the place and occasion for such a rendering.—DERRICK WATERS, Winchester, Hants.

Seafarers' memorial We are in the process of preparing a Book of Remembrance to contain names of seafarers who originated from the West Country, and who either lost their lives at sea, away from home, or who spent all their lives working at sea and have no other memorial. The Book of Remembrance is to be placed in the small chapel at the Avonmouth International Seafarers Centre, and will be open to view any evening of the year.

The Avonmouth International Seafarers Centre was formed in 1982, and is jointly run by the Apostleship of the Sea (Roman Catholic), The Missions to Seamen (Anglican) and the British Sailors Society (Non-Denominational).

Its concern is the caring and welfare of seafarers at Avonmouth and its premises previously housed the Merchant Navy Welfare Board Club.

The Centre wishes to hear of names to include in the Book of Remembrance.

For further details please write to the Avonmouth International Seafarers Centre, Gloucester Road, Avonmouth, Bristol BS11 9AQ (stamped and addressed envelope would be very much appreciated), or contact by telephone on Avonmouth (0272) 822335.— MRS ETHEL THOMAS, Avonmouth, Bristol.

Thanks, Salcombe I am writing to you to convey my thanks to the crew of the Salcombe lifeboat whom we called out to aid us on the afternoon of Easter Monday, March 31. The vessel, a thirty-five foot motoryacht, Aqua Cheetah, of which I was would-be skipper, was on passage from Plymouth to Dartmouth.

We left in what we understood to be a force 5 or 6 with the sea 'a bit bumpy'.

As we approached the Bolt Tail, the seas, coming from the south west became very steep. We came up behind a large wave and came off the other side as though we were falling off a block of flats. The vessel submarined nose first into the next wave.

The impact removed the entire windscreen and metal framework and most of the roof, throwing me through the teak aft cabin doors (which were closed, and consequently smashed to bits) and breaking my forearm and collar bone. I was washed into the aft cabin with about 1000 gallons of water and thought, in fact, that I had gone overboard.

I might add that the sea is like ice at the end of March! Feeling around me it was instantly evident that I was in the cabin which was filled to the roof with water; I thought at this point that the boat had sunk with me in it. On surfacing in the aft cabin stairwell you can imagine my relief in finding not only the other crew members were not washed overboard but that we were still afloat with both engines running.

The weight of water aft and the relatively water-free forward cabin caused the boat to rise and not sink.

The instrument console was broken away by the force of the water rendering the throttles, which were nearly fully open, unmoveable. I instantly made the distress call on channel 16 from the radio (which was intermittent but mounted high on the forward cabin bulkhead and therefore relatively dry) informing Brixham coastguard of our position and situation.

I asked for the lifeboat to be launched, believing that we might go down at any second with continuous waves breaking over the vessel. All three bilge pumps were running at this stage and forcing the boat into the weather so we were able to keep the water level down.

I took the helm at this point and headed east for Salcombe River around Bolt Head. On seeing the lifeboat I launcheda red parachute flare to show our position.

The radio which had packed up after continuous drenching started working again and I was able to speak to the lifeboat informing them that I felt that we should keep heading inshore because of the danger of cutting the engine and not being able to start them again, with so much water in the electrics.

The lifeboat escorted us in over the bar and into the inner harbour where we managed to moor up to a fishing boat.

In summing up, I would like to say that I think we had a narrow scrape and it was only by the narrowest margin that we weren't all in a watery grave, being searched for by the lifeboat crew who came out without a thought for themselves in the terrible weather that day.

Many thanks again from the crew and myself.—ROGER COLE, Long Crichel, Dorset.

Pillar talk I wonder if you and the many collectors working round the country on Lifeboat Day would be interested in the following letter printed in the Maryport Advertiser and Weekly News of July 2, 1876.

'Mr Editor, I am the solitary Lifeboat Pillar Box stationed on the pier, and have to report an act of unwonted liberality of some person or persons unknown. On Monday, when I counted over my takings for four months, among 121- all copper, and 21- all silver, I found a golden sovereign—actually a sovereign of the reign of her present Most Gracious Majesty. I receive at alltimes a quantity of buttons, Lucifer matches, old copper tokens, etc, but I never previously received a veritable sovereign, and cannot yet help thinking it has been dropped into my mouth as a farthing. At the same time taking into view the pressing demands of the Maryport lifeboat, whose servant I am, I trust that nobody will put in a claim for its restitution from me, the said poor old neglected LIFEBOA T PILLAR BOX. Maryport, June 30, 1876.' As I had recently spent a disappointing day in Knightsbridge, collecting a sum rather less than my previous years' total, I felt it might offer amusement and some consolation to other frustrated collectors.

—FREDA GRAHAM, London W10..