The launch was one of their toughest – what would the lifeboat volunteers find when they reached the casualty, dragging in the water?

It was a bright and breezy morning on
4 September 2009 when a man and woman
from London left for Ramsgate in their 9m sailing cruiser. However, once out of the shelter of the Thames Estuary they hit bad weather and, in search of calmer waters, diverted into the Swale, a strip of sea separating north Kent from the Isle of Sheppey.

The wind was now near-gale force and there was no let up in the rough seas – shockingly, the man was knocked overboard. In case of just such an incident, he was tethered to the craft by safety lines but he struggled in vain to get back aboard. His wife was unable to help him and, worried for his safety, put out a mayday.

Whitstable Lifeboat Station got the call from Thames Coastguard just after 1.30pm. Minutes later, the B class Oxford Town and Gown launched into breaking seas with Jon Carter at the helm and Crew Members Tony Martin and Henry Thomson. Henry remembers it well: ‘It was nasty. One of the roughest days we’ve had in a long time and one of our toughest launches.’

Launching Tractor Driver Mike Young remembers it too: ‘No sooner had the lifeboat left the trailer than a wave crashed over her and she was gone from sight.’ Jon is a little more sanguine: ‘It was windy. We were near the operational limits for this class of lifeboat but I wasn’t nervous – I knew her capabilities and knew I could rely on my crew.’

The yacht was reported to be 2 miles from Whitstable, north east of the Pollard Spit buoy. The sea state meant that progress was slower than usual, taking all Jon’s boathandling skills and local knowledge to ensure the volunteers got there safely and in the best possible time. When they arrived, the yacht was drifting in the wind and tide and dragging the man under the waves at the stern.

Things were further complicated by the yacht’s inflatable tender, which was tethered to the stern alongside trailing lines and a lifebuoy. ‘All I could see were things floating around and this poor chap going under,’ says Jon. Henry concurs grimly: ‘He was getting smashed to pieces.’

Jon placed the nose of the 7.4m lifeboat close to the yacht’s cabin. Tony chose his moment and jumped aboard to find the woman in great distress. He caught hold of one lifeline and tried to drag the man onboard but he had become a deadweight. Tony worked to keep him as far out of the water and as near to the yacht as possible until the lifeboat could adjust position.

Jon took the Atlantic around and held her near the yacht’s stern so that Henry could grab the casualty while Tony reboarded. Jon explains: ‘The boats were both pitching and we had to get the casualty clear without crushing him.’ In a joint effort, Henry and Tony grabbed him, cut away his tangled lines and lifted him aboard.

The yachtsman had swallowed a lot of seawater and the crew knew he needed urgent attention. Henry remembers: ‘He was not in a good way, going in and out of consciousness, and getting worse. We were worried about secondary drowning.’ He sums up: ‘The last time I saw someone that colour they were dead.’

Should they bring the man’s wife aboard too? Accept helicopter assistance? Jon describes his thinking: ‘It’s all about making quick and sensible decisions. An extra person aboard would have meant that Tony and Henry couldn’t have concentrated on caring for the man and the lady wasn’t in any immediate danger. A helicopter transfer wouldn't have done him any favours either!’

Jon shouted over to the woman that someone would be back for her, turned the lifeboat around and headed back to station through force 6–7 winds. The man was now being sick and Tony and Henry wrapped him in blankets, administered oxygen and talked to him constantly to keep him awake. Jon says: ‘They did a great job. It meant I could concentrate on getting us back in one piece.’

By radio, Jon and the shore crew made arrangements for the Oxford Town and Gown’s return. They decided to recover the lifeboat up the shingle beach by net, rather than attempting to reverse her onto the launch trailer. Jon was pleased: ‘It worked really smoothly; I’d done it in training before but this was my first time for real. As a crew, it was our first net recovery with a casualty too.’

Meanwhile, Sheerness all-weather lifeboat had launched to bring in the stricken yacht, which had drifted east of Whitstable. Alone onboard, the woman was desperately worried and starting to suffer from seasickness and the cold. With limited berthing options, the all-weather crew took the yacht in tow and set a course for Queenborough, 2 miles south of Sheerness.

By then, volunteers had refuelled Whitstable lifeboat and made her ready for relaunch. Henry stayed behind to help at the station while Crew Member Martin Easton joined Jon and Tony as a fresh pair of hands to rendezvous with Sheerness lifeboat and their charge. The inshore team would be speedier in transferring the woman to shore.

By 7pm Sheerness crew had secured the yacht and, remarkably, the man was released from hospital later the same evening. ‘It was a good result, and all thanks to a fantastic team effort,’ says Jon. ‘Shore helpers, tractor drivers and station officials all play a vital part in a rescue like this. And when you make a difference, actually saving a life, everyone feels good about it.’ a good result, and all thanks to a fantastic team effort,’ says Jon. ‘Shore helpers, tractor drivers and station officials all play a vital part in a rescue like this. And when you make a difference, actually saving a life, everyone feels good about it.’

The meaning of teamwork

Assistant Editor and Writer Jon Jones gives a personal footnote to his visit to Whitstable

‘I was already soaked through and cold by the time I reached Whitstable. It had been raining pretty much all afternoon and the station was eerily quiet, bar the distant clink of boat rigging. I was soon lifted out of my gloom by Chris Davey, the station’s volunteer Press Officer. He opened up the station and spoke enthusiastically during my guided tour. I was looking forward to meeting Jon, Tony and Henry.

‘It wasn’t long before they appeared and Chris left us to chat in the crew room upstairs. I didn’t want to keep them long as they had training that evening. Lifeboat crew tend to be a modest bunch and it took some gentle prodding to get an idea of just how intense the rescue had been.

‘Jon grinned and said: “I’m surprised we’ve not had a shout yet – we’ve had one on our last two training nights …” No sooner had he finished his sentence, the pagers went off. Someone called out: ‘Sorry mate, got to go!’ as they disappeared downstairs. I wasn’t sure if they were pulling my leg.

‘By the time I had packed up, put on my jacket and made my way downstairs, cars were pulling up and the three lifeboatmen were suited, booted and ready to go. The following couple of minutes saw the station transform into a hive of activity. Crew members, shore helpers, tractor drivers and the Lifeboat Operations Manager had all appeared and were going about their duties.

‘Jon called out that they had a report of a boat in trouble off the Isle of Sheppey. He climbed aboard the lifeboat, joined once again by Tony and Henry. The boathouse door opened and the tractor took them down the beach and into the sea.

‘As all this was going on I was also talking with Vinnie Litchfield, who told me he was looking forward to his crew training. He was 17 if he was a day. Vinnie’s mum, Kellie, is the lifeboat’s volunteer mechanic and also on the crew so Vinnie’d been in and around the station ever since he was a little boy. I got the feeling we’d all see him on that  lifeboat one day.

‘I stood and watched in the dark and rain as the lifeboat disappeared from view. Someone said that the mobile Coastguard unit was out to verify the details of the report. All these people had dropped everything and were working together – in this disgusting weather. Somehow, it didn’t seem appropriate for me to moan about my wet clothes.’