LIFEBOAT MAGAZINE ARCHIVE

Advanced search

There they are, boy. They were heroes

Seventy years ago, St Ives in Cornwall lost seven men to the sea. Their lives are some of the many celebrated by the new RNLI memorial sculpture in Poole

Present-day St Ives Coxswain Tommy Cocking (53) is the great grandson of 1939 Coxswain Thomas Cocking: ‘I am the fifth generation of lifeboatmen in  my family and the names of three of my family members are inscribed on the memorial – Thomas, and  my two great uncles.’

For William Barber (76), too, this is no history lesson. He lost his namesake and father and was  nephew to Matthew Stevens Barber: ‘My wife and sister are volunteers at the station shop nowadays. When we heard about the memorial we were pleased to think my father and all the men lost would be remembered. It could be easy to forget something  from 70 years ago.’

Another latter-day volunteer, Margaret Bates (75), has a different memory to carry. She is the daughter of the sole survivor of the disaster, William Freeman: ‘I was 5½ years old when my father  was brought home beaten up like he’d been in a boxing match. I was dumbstruck – he didn’t look like my dad.’

Night to remember

It whipped up an exceptionally violent gale on the night of 23 January 1939 but when a vessel was  spotted in distress 2 miles off Cape Cornwall, lifeboatmen responded. Sennen Cove crew were  prevented from launching by the state of the tide so the men of St Ives would have to do battle for  11 miles.

William Barber says: ‘I was nearly 6 so I remember it vividly. I said to my sister: “I hope Dad isn’t going out tonight.” I heard my mother ask him not to go out and he replied: “Grace, I’m going out to do my duty. You look after the children.”’

With the help of over 80 people, the motor self- righting lifeboat John and Sarah Eliza Stych, on loan from Padstow, was launched at 2.50am. Out of the shelter of St Ives Head and exposed to the full force of the wind and waves, the lifeboat was overpowered and capsized. William Freeman found himself in the water but he had kept hold of the side of the boat. ‘He was under for so long that his lungs were bursting,’ explains Margaret. ‘He thought the lifeboat would never come up again.’ But it did self-right and he was dragged back aboard only to find that half his fellows were missing: Thomas Cocking, William Barber, John Thomas and Edgar Bassett.

Then commenced a series of agonising attempts to restart the engine. In a desperate bid, much of the boat’s gear was jettisoned but to no avail. So, dropping the anchor and using all its cable, the four remaining men attempted to hold the lifeboat head to wind and sea. But the cable parted and the boat was loose. Richard Stevens made several more attempts to start the engine. When the lifeboat capsized and righted for a second time he was missing.

As she approached the perils of Godrevy Rocks the lifeboat capsized a third and final time before being thrown onto a ledge. This time only William Freeman resurfaced. He felt John Cocking and Matthew Barber go past him but never saw them again. With the sea smashing over and around him, he climbed the rocks on all fours, scrambled up the cliff and removed his waterlogged boots.

Margaret takes up the tale: ‘Dad didn’t know where he was but he saw some chimneys and made towards them.’ Cut and bruised, he was taken in at Godrevy Farm. ‘Mr Delbridge stripped my father of his wet clothes, gave him a fireman’s lift up the stairs and placed him in his and his wife’s warm bed. I am still friendly with their eldest daughter who was 11 at the time and she remembers how the children poked their heads round the bedroom door, amazed!’

At 7.05am the station learned the appalling news.
Established in 1840, St Ives crews had launched to 129 services and rescued 434 people without a single life lost of their own. Now seven widows and eight children, with another on the way, had lost both a loved one and their fishermen’s livelihood. The RNLI announced that day that it would give pensions and allowances on the same scale as if the men had been members of the armed services lost in action.

Though little is certain about the casualty ship, it seems probable that she was the 3,000-ton Glasgow steamer Wilston, with a crew of over 30 men. She had left Newport, Monmouthshire, on 21 January bound for the Mediterranean. On 25 January, her wreckage came to shore 6 miles east of the location the St Ives men had been attempting to reach.

Looking to a future

Beverley Adams (55) is the granddaughter of Richard Stevens: ‘When he was at the formative age of 10, my father lost all the significant men in his life and my grandmother, herself only 32, found herself without her father (Thomas Cocking), her brother (Jack Bassett Cocking) and her husband, my grandfather.

‘I don’t know how she coped. But she was a marvellous, very resilient and feisty character. She threw herself into looking after her mother and her own young family. I think all the women were amazing. The day after that horrendous and dreadful disaster, they were faced with the challenge of putting food on the table and educating their children. It was their strength that kept it all going.’

Beverley has experienced a strange coincidence: ‘I’ve just retired from teaching in Barry, Glamorgan, where I found myself teaching the great great grandchildren of those onboard the Wilston who my own grandfather, great grandfather and great uncle set out to rescue!’

And what of the RNLI memorial project? ‘My brother, Nigel Stevens and I are both so proud. The memorial is a marvellous tribute for those who have been saved at sea, those who have saved others at sea, and those who continue to do so. My father, now in his 80s, is delighted and I know my grandmother would have been too. Thank goodness we still have people who risk their lives to save others, because none of us ever know when we might need them.’

Tommy sums up: ‘I know that every time I see this memorial, it will bring me back to visiting my aunt. Above her fireplace, she had a picture of her husband, her brother and her father. And she used to look at it, with tears in her eyes and say: “There they are, boy. They were heroes.” So are all of the people named on this memorial.’

[See page 18 for a full account of the making of the new RNLI sculpture to commemorate all lifeboating disasters including St Ives. Add your memories and thoughts at rnli.org.uk/commemorate or write to the Editor.]