There was an early wake-up call for Tenby lifeboat crew in September when a lone sailor found himself aground amid pounding waves

The lone yachtsman aboard his 7m boat Maridadi had dropped anchor at high water on the evening of 23 September 2013, ready for a good night’s sleep.

But he suddenly woke at 3.30am to the dreadful sound of his boat banging on rocks, and made an anxious call for help.

Despite the early hour, the crew were quick to respond. While they were all donning their lifeboat kit, Coxswain Phil John got details of the shout.

The man, in his late 70s, was getting close to the base of a cliff at Sandtop Bay, Caldey Island, with the anchor dragging. ‘That got the adrenaline going!’ recalls Phil. He launched with eight crew members on the all-weather lifeboat Haydn Miller: two more than usual as he knew a couple of crew members may be needed on the yacht.

The lifeboat rounded St Margaret’s Island, north west of Sandtop Bay, and the crew saw faint navigation lights moving in the big Atlantic swell.

As they drew nearer, the crew requested the assistance of the inshore lifeboat and were told that, if a helicopter were needed, it would take over an hour to arrive. That was too long, according to Phil: ‘The frightening bit about it was that within an hour he would have been smashed to bits.’

The Coxswain remembers how misty and dark it was in the bay and the noise: ‘It was very loud with the rolling waves pounding onto the yacht and rocks.

When there was a gap in waves you heard the yacht’s stays jangling on the mast.’ The crew had to act quickly, but any hopes of passing a tow directly from the Haydn Miller to Maridadi were dashed. The waters were too shallow to get the lifeboat close. What’s more, the yachtsman wouldn’t move out of the cockpit to help set up a tow, for fear of falling overboard in the dark. Without a light on his lifejacket, there was a real danger of him being lost if he fell in.

Coxswain John and the crew quickly formed a fresh plan and deployed the Y boat, a small, powered inflatable boat, off the back of the Haydn Miller. Phil had faith in his crew: ‘I chose my most experienced boys for the Y boat. We’ve had an inshore lifeboat at Tenby since the 1970s, so inshore boathandling comes as second nature.’ But he knew the smaller boat would be tested in the 2m swell: ‘You wouldn’t want to be in worse conditions than that on a Y boat.’

By searchlight, Phil watched anxiously as Deputy Second Coxswain Robert James skilfully veered down (travelling backwards, bow facing the surf) to the yacht. Crew Members Daniel Thomas and Robert John stepped onto the casualty vessel.

With great boathandling skills, Robert James took the Y boat back through the surf to pass the tow rope. The crew on the lifeboat aimed the searchlight onto the bow of the yacht, where Daniel, battered by waves, made the tow rope fast.

Then came the scariest moment, with the Y boat almost vertical in the surf. Watching from the all-weather lifeboat, Phil recalls: ‘My heart sank – the Y boat disappeared from view behind a wave. Had they made it? Luckily they came over the top.’ Back-up arrived in the form of the inshore lifeboat. Thankfully, Haydn Miller pulled the grounded yacht away from the rocks easily.

Once out of the surf, Daniel Thomas and Robert John recovered the anchor. All that was left of it was the shank. The plough, which is the part that grips, had been completely ripped off by the rocks.

The lifeboat towed the yacht back to the Tenby swinging mooring and then into the harbour when the tide was in. Although very fatigued, the yachtsman was none the worse for his ordeal. A shipwreck had been averted.

For the volunteer lifeboatmen and shore crew, it was back home to start the working week. Despite the rude awakening and all the drama, Phil reflects on how it felt strangely like a typical Monday morning: ‘When I went home, I had breakfast, got ready for work, and thought: “Did that really just happen?”’