The beach apparatus has received the greatest attention from inventors, since that part of the life-savers' outfit is depended upon to rescue the greatest number.
With a rush the surf-boat rolled in on a giant wave amid a smother of foam, and no sooner had her keel grated on the sand than her crew were out knee-deep in the swirling water and were dragging her up high and dry.
A minute later the entire crew, some pulling, some steering, dragged out the beach wagon. A light framework supported by two broad-tired wheels carried all the apparatus for rescue work from the beach. Each member of the crew had his appointed place and definite duties, according to printed instructions which each had learned by heart, and when the command was given every man jumped to his place as a well-trained man-of-war's-man takes his position at his gun.
Over hummocks of sand and wreckage, across little inlets made by the waves, in the face of blinding sleet and staggering wind, the life-savers dragged the beach wagon on the run.
Through the mist and shrouding white of the storm the outlines of the stranded vessel could just be distinguished.
Bringing the wagon to the nearest point, the crew unloaded their appliances.
Two men then unloaded a sand-anchor--an immense cross--and immediately set to work with shovels to dig a hole in the sand and bury it. While this was being done two others were busy placing a bronze cannon (two and one-half-inch bore) in position; another got out boxes containing small rope wound criss-cross fashion on wooden pins set upright in the bottom. The pins merely held the rope in its coils until ready for use, when board and pegs were removed. The free end of the line was attached to a ring in the end of the long projectile which the captain carried, together with a box of ammunition slung over his shoulders. The cylindrical projectile was fourteen and one-half inches long and weighed seventeen pounds. All these operations were carried on at once and with utmost speed in spite of the great difficulties and the darkness.
While the surf boomed and the wind roared, the captain sighted the gun--aided by Nos. 1 and 2 of the crew--aiming for the outstretched arms of the yards of the wrecked vessel. With the wind blowing at an almost hurricane rate, it was a difficult shot, but long practice under all kinds of difficulties had taught the captain just how to aim. As he pulled the lanyard, the little bronze cannon spit out fire viciously, and the long projectile, to which had been attached the end of the coiled line, sailed off on its errand of mercy. With a whir the line spun out of the box coil after coil, while the crew peered out over the breaking seas to see if the keeper's aim was true. At last the line stopped uncoiling and the life-savers knew that the shot had landed somewhere. For a time nothing happened, the slender rope reached out into the boiling waves, but no answering tugs conveyed messages to the waiting surfmen from the wrecked seamen.