LOSS OF LIVERPOOL PILOT CUTTER CHARLES LIVINGSTONE

April 1st, 2004 by JCB
Posted in History | 4 Comments »

Many pilots will be unaware of the greatest tragedy to befall UK pilotage when the Liverpool pilot cutter Charles Livingstone was lost in 1939. Retired Liverpool pilot David Hodgson has sent in the following report to the enquiry submitted by his great uncle, Senior Class 1 pilot, Tom Webster.

In November 1939, No 1. Pilot Boat the SS Charles Livingstone stranded on Ainsdale Beach in a west- north- west gale and twenty three lost their lives, including eight Pilots and eight Apprentices. Six of her personnel who took refuge in the rigging were rescued by the Blackpool Lifeboat and four made it to the beach. The Apprentices who manned the pulling and motor boats all lost their lives. Their valour was recognised by the Trustees of the Carnegie Hero Fund, and certificates were presented to the parents of the four young men. In fact my father used to recount the story that Tom did in fact remember being dragged up the beach by two rescuers, the last words he remembers being “Christ this one’s a big bugger!”.

At 7 p.m. on Saturday, the 27th November, I went on board No 2 Pilot Boat at Princes Stage and proceeded in her to the Bar where I transferred to No 1 Pilot Boat at about 10.30 p.m. to wait to be boarded on an inward bound vessel. I slept until shortly after 3 a.m. and went on deck. The weather then was wind, force 7 with heavy rain squalls. No lights were visible. I spoke to one of the firemen and feeling the engines going astern I noticed that there was sand churned up in the backwash from the propeller. I said to him “We’re either ashore or very near it”, and went below to dress. I then went up on the bridge and asked Captain McLeod where he thought we were and his reply was somewhere on Rhyl Flats. I returned to the lower deck and advised various people to get their life-jackets. By this time the Pilot Boat was bumping, lurching and rolling and continually driving to leeward. The three boats were lowered into the water and brought round the stern on to the lee (starboard) side Several distress signals had been detonated and these were continued at intervals. I assisted in getting lifelines ready and ropes out to the boats so that they would be ready for emergency. There was a quiet acceptance by everyone on board of the situation and help was willingly rendered by everyone. Four apprentices were in the boats but then the Pilot boat slewed round which caused the starboard side to become the weather side, causing the pulling boat to break adrift. One of the motor boats went after her and disappeared in the darkness and after what seemed a longish interval I saw her return to about 50 feet almost ahead with the pulling boat in tow. They stayed in view for a short period and I heard a hail from the motor boat that the engine was conking out. They then disappeared from view in a heavy sea and I did not see them again. Very shortly after, Apprentice Lancaster came on to the fore deck and asked if he should go in the remaining boat to the rescue. I replied that he should not go without permission. He returned to the bridge and I presume received permission because he went over the starboard bow down a life line and cast off. The boat disappeared into the darkness to leeward and after a considerable interval we observed her returning apparently alone. She turned to run before the sea, and in turning disappeared from view. During this time the Pilot Boat was still driving to leeward, bumping over the ground and shipping heavy water over the port side and I returned to the bridge. Everyone was very wet with the rain and spray and the wireless was transmitting and receiving messages. From what I could hear of the Wireless Operator’s voice I gathered one ship was in communication and also that three lifeboats were out looking for the Pilot Boat. I took on the duty of detonating the maroons. At about this time we observed a dark object on the starboard side which was identified as Ainsdale Lido and we knew we were on the Lancashire Coast. Up to this time it had been the general idea on board that we were to the Southward of the Bar Ship We estimated that the Pilot Boat was not less than a quarter of a mile from the shore but discounted the possibility of swimming ashore because of the distance and the heavy breakers. At about this time, the vessel’s drive to leeward had ceased and she was fast aground with a very dangerous list to port; the port side of the boat deck under water with seas breaking over her whole length. Up to this time no one had gone overboard and the two life rafts were lowered. There were a number of pilots, the engineers, firemen and maybe others under the lee of the chartroom and various people on the bridge.. The seas were enormous and lifted us to the underside of the bridge deck and dropped us in the water again. At this time the top structure began to carry away. A sea which seemed larger than the others lifted her bodily driving her to an even keel and apparently into deeper water, so that what before had been the high (starboard) side now became totally submerged. With the rising tide and consequently rising sea l saw the ability of those with me to hold on was getting less and a subsequent sea carried Bibby and Teire overboard. This same wave washed me over the rail to which I hung on outboard and from there I made my way to the forward rigging, into which I climbed below Steward Roberts. Above him were those saved by the Blackpool Lifeboat. I could see the bridge and wheelhouse. There were Mcleod, Trott, J.Currie and Hoppins and maybe Lawler on top of the wheelhouse with Cockram holding on to the starboard bridge stanchions. My colleagues on the lee side of the chartroom had disappeared. During this time I saw Cockram washed over from the bridge and climb back again but later, after a sea had swept over, I did not see him. I entwined by right leg in the ratlines to keep me from being washed away when the lamp standard on the bridge washed across my left hand causing me to lose hold and I fell backwards with my feet still entangled. A subsequent sea tore the ratlines away and when I came to the surface I was about 20 yards from the vessel and realising that I could not get back I turned and swam for the shore. Owing to my injured right leg and the character of the shore I was unable to get up. I don’t know how long I laid there but was eventually picked up in an unconscious condition. I came to in Southport Infirmary.

 LETTER
Liverpool pilot cutter Charles Livingston erratum:There are several mistakes in the article “loss of the Liverpool Pilot Cutter Charles Livingstone” (Pilot 277). Firstly the name should be Livingston. Sadly this was not “the greatest tragedy”. In 1917 the previous No.1, the Alfred H Reid was sunk by a mine near the Bar light vessel with a loss of 39 lives. It was the 25th (not 27th) that the No.2 pilot boat the Walter J Chambers took Mr Webster and colleagues out to the Bar where the Charles Livingston was on boarding station and the stranding occurred on Sunday 26th November. (Several pilots who were further down the “boarding list” remained aboard the No.2). Unfortunately the article could give the impression that Captain MacLeod (not McLeod) the “Senior Master” was on the bridge during the stranding and that he might be responsible for the pilot boat’s position. However, nothing could be further from the truth and the “Second Master” subsequently resigned from the service. As reported, the first losses were five apprentices in the boats – one was in the pulling boat when it broke adrift, two manned a motor “boarding punt” and went after the pulling boat when it broke adrift and then two more manned the remaining motor “boarding punt” to go to the aid of their shipmates. (These were my shipmates as well because I had been on No.1 for 20 months and was due to rejoin that very morning after two days leave.) The excellent picture of No.1 accompanying the article shows her as new. She was built in 1921 and was 434 tons, loa 144.9 feet, 27.7 feet beam and 12.7 feet draft. Although battered and sand filled she was salvaged and rebuilt looking quite different. She served then as an examination vessel before returning to service as a Liverpool pilot boat until 1951. I look forward to each edition of The Pilot. Many thanks to yourself and other contributors.
J. Delacour Keir Liverpool pilot (retired)

Thank you, to all the others who wrote in identifying the errors in the article. ed