'When the call for help comes, drown you may, go you must': 200 years of lifeboat institution

I WAS asked to be one of the contributors to the RNLI’s 200 Voices of Commemoration podcast series marking the 200th anniversary of the founding of the lifeboat institution.

One of the questions posed was: “What particularly marks for you, involvement with the RNLI?”

It took some time to consider the answer.

What I decided, from many years of reporting about ‘the lifeboats’ was the quality of the volunteers and, particularly, those who carry out the rescues at sea, when emergencies can often happen in the very worst of weather conditions.

Why men and women volunteer for such a dangerous task has intrigued me.

I have often asked of them: “Do you ever feel afraid, heading out into very bad weather, maybe in the darkness of night?”

The answers have emphasised their desire to help others who are in difficulty, to save lives and, particularly enunciated in the words of one lifeboat man whom I asked that of many years ago as he came ashore from a tough rescue.

“When the call for help comes, drown you may, go you must.”

That answer I used as the title for a television and two radio documentaries I made over my years in RTÉ about the RNLI.

In those productions and in my 200 Voices contribution I also referred to how the volunteering commitment, traditionally part of coastal communities, has changed as the fishing industry has contracted, to include a wider spread of people from different backgrounds.

Those family connections are underlined in the 200th anniversary special issue of the LIFEBOAT magazine, in which the Cottrell family of Baltimore in West Cork are featured highlighting ‘Generations of courage and kindness’ listing families around Ireland and the UK with longtime lifeboat connections.

“My grandfather was on the lifeboat for 14 years, my father Noel was on the crew for 26 years, four of them as mechanic. I joined up when I was old enough,” says Cathal Cottrell, mechanic at Baltimore, whose brothers, Micheál and Brendan, are also on the current lifeboat crew.

Micheál’s wife, Kate, is the station’s press officer.

“Our other brother, Kevin, also joined when he was old enough. He has since moved to Cork city. We’re the third generation.

“It’s good fun working with your brothers, we know each other very well, we trust each other. A fourth generation of Cottrells on the lifeboat I’d say is quite likely.

“The hope for the station is that young people will be able to afford to live in Baltimore. A lot of them move to the city for work and are also being priced out of the area. Then it gets harder to find volunteers,” says Cathal.

“With better broadband and more people working from home we are seeing a few more young people here now.

“We’re a busy station and we’ve got a good young group of volunteer crew coming through, so we all hope the station prospers and we’re able to carry on keeping people safe.

“There’s great support for the lifeboat here. Without the fundraisers we wouldn’t have the equipment and kit that we have on the boat. We’re all one unit, one crew.”

As part of the 200th celebrations, the RNLI archive has issued colourised photographs, converted from original black-and-whites of its history. One includes the great Patrick Sliney from Ballycotton who, as coxswain, led the village lifeboat crew in the Daunt Rock rescue of 1936. He is pictured with his wife and their son, William, at the annual RNLI meeting of that year in London.

The Daunt Rock Lightship, Comet, had broken from its mooring in the worst of weather conditions.

The Ballycotton crew were at sea for 49 hours, rescuing all eight aboard the lightship. Patrick was awarded the RNLI Gold Medal for Gallantry and the rest of the crew, including his son, William, received Bronze Medals fro Gallantry.

The rescue, during a vicious gale and bitterly cold weather, is one of the most demanding ever undertaken and a key part of RNLI history.

How times have changed, as remarked by Niamh Stephenson, media manager for the RNLI in Ireland.

“It’s a family portrait, three members of the one family, smiling and linking arms,” says Ms Stephenson.

“The two gentlemen are flanking a lady dressed in a hat with a smart overcoat and a proud expression. The men are in lifeboat kit, unrecognisable today, with lifejackets that look like sacks belted on them.”

That was basic safety equipment in 1936.

Will Sliney, a graphic artist for Marvel Comics, the American publisher, is great grandson of Patsy and a volunteer with Ballycotton RNLI.

He is also one of the RNLI’s 200 Voices podcast in which he talks about that rescue and its part in the family’s history. And it is also well worth a listen.

The Ballycotton lifeboat of 1936, the Mary Stanford, saved for history by the East Cork fishing village community, is preserved overlooking Ballycotton Bay.

An Post is to launch a 200th commemorative RNLI stamp next week. Exhibitions and other events are planned throughout the year by the RNLI under the theme — ‘Celebrate, Commemorate and Inspire.’

“We hope that is what this year brings,” says Niamh Stephenson.