St Abbs crew trusted each other with their lives in an outstandingly gallant rescue

‘This was something you can’t train for and something we’d never seen before. The decisions we made had to be the right ones.’

After 46 years in the RNLI and a lifetime at sea, you would think retired Helmsman, now Lifeboat Operations Manager, Alistair Crowe had seen it all. But a lifesaving rescue off the south east coast of Scotland in early June placed exceptional demands on St Abbs crew, earning his nephew, Helmsman Darren Crowe, the RNLI’s Bronze Medal for Gallantry.

Sixty-three-year-old Alistair was out fishing off St Abbs Harbour one Monday morning when he heard his pager going off. Back on shore, he rang the Coastguard. A man was in the water and clinging to rocks. ‘I knew the conditions of the sea because I’d just been out there. I knew where he was and that he wouldn’t get out without help.’

Alistair’s nephews Darren and James (an ex-crew member) were first to arrive at the station. It was an unconventional line-up but they needed to get going.

The casualty, Simon Haston, had been out fishing on the rocks with a friend when he slipped head first into the sea. As an experienced fireman with professional training in open-water rescue, he’d considered himself a strong swimmer. But when he came back to see the crew after the rescue, he said this had been a completely different experience. Alistair recalls an emotional visit:

‘Simon told us how he’d landed in the water and managed to climb onto a rock. Thinking he was safe, he shouted up to his mate: “That was a near one”. But the next thing he knew he was deep under the water and struggling to get up to the surface. The waves were pushing him in and dragging him back. It was impossible to swim. By the end he thought no one was coming for him.’

At the mercy of the swell, Simon was washed into a cave known as Ty’s Tunnel, about 30m long and accessible only through a narrow fissure in the rock. Now on scene, the crew searched the gulley near where he had first been spotted but without luck.

It was as they turned the lifeboat in this tight and tricky area that they caught sight of Simon clinging to a rock down the tunnel. They shouted to him but there was no response. Recalling his state of mind at the time, Simon says: ‘I would not have lasted much longer, I was almost gone.’

To save him, one of the crew would have to enter the water, swim 20m into the tunnel and persuade him out. The tunnel was treacherous. With the rising sea piling into a dead end, the effect was a constant push and drag. Alistair takes up the story: ‘We knew it was an extremely hard thing to do. I wanted to be the one to swim in but Darren said: “No, I’ll go. I’ll do it.” We talked it over: whether Darren would make it or not.’

They also realised that while swimming in would be a feat, swimming out would be impossible. The only way out for Darren and the casualty would be for Alistair and James to pull them, so they agreed to attach a line to Darren’s lifejacket. Alistair was anxious: ‘I just hoped it wouldn’t get stuck on the rocks or kelp. If it had, we could never have got them back but this was the lesser of the evils.’

After an initial failed attempt, Darren timed his way through the breaking swell and made it in. But Simon, covered in blood and shivering heavily as he clung to the rocks for dear life, remained nonresponsive to the Helm’s shouts. Darren recalls: ‘I had to talk him out of the cave; he was terrified.’ With the tide rising, Darren finally shouted: ‘Get onto my back – there’s no time.’ It worked.

RNLI Operations Director Michael Vlasto said of Darren’s actions: ‘Swimming into a tunnel and then encouraging a terrified individual to put his trust in him and re-enter the water demonstrated Darren’s courage, level-headedness, physical strength and resourcefulness, which were critical to saving the man’s life.’

Getting back to the lifeboat with Simon on his back was another feat. The crew had feared the extra weight might drag them both under, but Darren inflated his lifejacket and it supported them. All this time, Alistair had fought the swell to keep the lifeboat as steady and in position as possible. He and James now gently towed the two men out.

Michael Vlasto pays special recognition to Alistair’s vital role in the rescue: ‘I have nothing but admiration for Alistair who selflessly offered to swim into a gulley with a rising tide approaching. His helming of the lifeboat, in the narrow confines of the gulley with a 2m swell, required boathandling and seamanship skills of the highest order.’

Once out of danger, James could concentrate on assessing Simon’s condition. Though his wounds proved to be superficial, it was clear that he was extremely cold. They decided the best thing was to transfer Simon and James to a fishing boat that was standing by. Her skipper was Crew Member David Wilson who had been the first to spot Simon’s fall and alert the Coastguard. Since then David had acted as communicator between Forth Coastguard and the lifeboat, which was surrounded by rocks in the gulley, impeding its VHF range. His boat’s wheelhouse offered much needed warmth and shelter.

Back on land, Simon was transferred to an ambulance and taken to hospital. Returning to the station, he says: ‘If the RNLI had not been there I would have died that day. I just cannot thank them enough. I’m well aware it was a hard-core rescue, a big job. Darren saved my life and he deserves all the recognition he can get and definitely deserves the medal.’

Responding to news of his award, Darren says: ‘We are all volunteers – we’re not in it for medals. What we did that day was just part of our job with the RNLI.’

Alistair and James receive a Framed Letter of Thanks signed by the RNLI Chairman Lord Boyce and David is awarded a Letter of Appreciation signed by the RNLI Chief Executive Paul Boissier.