Tonnes of timber were heaped along the English south coast last Winter – but what became of the cargo ship’s crew? Carol Waterkeyn hears the full story of Ice Prince, the men who went to her aid, and the RNLI’s first Silver Medal for 3 years

On 13 January, severe gale force winds changed a routine passage into a nightmare for the huge Ice Prince and her 20 crew. They were 34 miles south east of Berry Head, Devon, when her cargo shifted, causing the Greek vessel to list dangerously. With one crewman injured (a suspected broken leg) and the weather showing no sign of abating, a worried ship’s Master radioed Brixham Coastguard for help.

Coastguard helicopter India Juliet was tasked to recover the casualty and 11 of his comrades while Torbay and Salcombe lifeboats were requested to stand by at the scene. HMS Cumberland was in the vicinity and also offered to take up position.

Torbay’s Coxswain Mark Criddle recalls: ‘I was down at the marina that Sunday night, watching darts on the TV and drying some clothes. When we got the call, with the weather we’d had all day, I knew it was going to be a big incident. Thirteen volunteers turned up and I had to pick just six to take with me. I was looking for the most appropriate people for that job – it was going to be a long night.’ The team launched at 7.44 pm.

The situation was worsening rapidly for Ice Prince: ‘We left harbour at around 15 knots into a southerly wind. Over the radio from the ship, we heard that they had lost their engine and were drifting beam onto the weather and heeling over badly. Soon after that their generator went down.

‘We increased our speed to 20 knots, put the bow of the lifeboat down low into the water and harnessed ourselves in. It was a very rough and uncomfortable passage but I knew that, this way, I could take 15–20 minutes off our estimated 2-hour journey.’ The less powerful Salcombe Tyne class followed.

Abandon ship!

From about 4 miles off, the helicopter’s lights could be seen and the shape of the Ice Prince loomed through the darkness. Mark left the shelter of the wheelhouse for the fl ying bridge of the Severn class. He could hear India Juliet’s diffi culties, and was keen to assist. ‘In the 35–45-knot winds, heavy swell and occasional rain squalls, they took as many of the men as they could – 12,’ he explains. In fact, the helicopter’s hi-lines kept getting snagged and had to be cut free to avoid catastrophe.

The lifeboat now asked Ice Prince’s Master what his intentions were. ‘He said: “to abandon ship!” You could tell from his voice it was very stressful with all that cargo shifting about. I wouldn’t have wanted to stay on there. It looked like she was going to roll over.’The Torbay crew got themselves ready. Volunteer Darryll Farley joined Mark on the flying bridge to help with steering.

They made several test approaches and then asked for the ship’s crew to come one by one to the point where they could jump across when the lifeboat was near enough. But fi rst, each man had to climb over two anchor winches and the ship’s flagpole across a deck that was now at 45º.

Crew Member and Doctor Alex Rowe describes the scene: ‘It was very difficult for us to communicate with the casualties because of the noise and the language barrier. Ice Prince was unstable and they were in a precarious position. They only had about a 1-second opportunity to make the movement across to the lifeboat. Four of us were on the foredeck. The first ship’s crew member jumped across and said: “Thank you for saving my life!” He was one of the younger guys. Some were older. One chap looked grey and sweaty and unwell. They had a few bruises and sore ribs but were amazingly well considering.’

But the fourth man was too frightened so the lifeboat tried to get nearer – until the two vessels collided and the man fell into the water. Miraculously he was swept back up by a wave and managed to get back onto the ship.

Second Coxswain Roger Good was on the lifeboat’s foredeck: ‘It was eerie to see a big ship like that leaning over so far. It was scooping up tonnes of water. We knew these last five guys were not going to jump; we were going to have to grab them.’ But to manoeuvre even closer would be risky for lifeboat and crew. A large portion of the ship was now submerged, threatening hidden hazards, while loose timber littered the water around them.

If at first …

Harnessed to the lifeboat as she made her approaches, the volunteers leaned out to catch hold of the men, dragging them bodily onto the lifeboat. It took over an hour and a quarter and around 50 approaches to pull the men to safety – the Master was the last to leave. All this while the ship increased her list, rolling uncontrollably, and the wind howled. Only the lifeboat’s searchlight, controlled by Darryll, pierced the pitch-black.It was a terrifying state of affairs.

Second Mechanic Nigel Coulton took the survivors down below: ‘They were all in shock and glad to be off Ice Prince. They were glad of a drink of water but sickness set in once they relaxed, took in their situation, and felt the unfamiliar movement of the lifeboat.

‘The number of lives we’d saved began to sink in on the return journey. I have been on the crew for 26 years and this is the best job I have done. It was good to know that the Salcombe lifeboat and her crew were there to back us up.’

Marco Brimacombe was Coxswain of the Salcombe lifeboat that night. He explains: ‘Our role on the night was to position ourselves aft of Torbay lifeboat’s port quarter to give assistance should anyone fall into the water during the transfers. We were also helping to illuminate the scene.’

Looking back

Ken James, Deputy Launching Authority at Torbay, had taken the initial call from the Coastguard. ‘I paged the crew for an immediate launch and later rang their partners to tell them not to expect their men back till the early hours of the morning … I stood and proudly watched the boat come back in and tie up alongside. All the survivors were talking excitedly about their ordeal.’

One, Peprakis Pamagiokis, expressed his gratitude: ‘From me and the other crew, one big thanks to the persons who rescued us.’ Two from the ship were transferred to a waiting ambulance. The others went to the boathouse with the lifeboatmen for Ken’s breakfast of tea and bacon sandwiches.

The next day, Mark watched the helicopter’s film footage of the event: ‘It made me feel quite ill. At the time I was purely focusing on no one getting hurt. The massive stern anchor had got very close to our guys and we could have lost them.

‘That rescue was the ultimate test of my career. As a coxswain, I am extremely pleased with how the lifeboat performed and the crew were just marvellous. I remember looking out from the flying bridge and seeing the crew stretching out their arms to these complete strangers to get them off. It is an image I will never forget …’