Heroes who sailed into a hurricane: Penlee lifeboat crew braved Force 12 winds and 50ft waves to save a stricken ship. Forty years later, their pre-Christmas bravery is still marked by heartrending village ritual
Forty years ago this weekend, the Penlee lifeboat Solomon Browne was launched into hurricane-force winds that had whipped up 50ft waves off the treacherous Cornish coast.
The crew of eight experienced volunteer lifeboatmen were attempting to reach a stricken coaster, the Union Star, which was in danger of drifting on to rocks.
What followed was an audacious act of seamanship in extreme conditions which nearly succeeded in saving those in peril. Instead, it is remembered as one of the greatest tragedies in the 197-year history of the RNLI.
Forty years ago this weekend, the Penlee lifeboat Solomon Browne was launched into hurricane-force winds that had whipped up 50ft waves off the treacherous Cornish coast. As the 47 ft wooden lifeboat sped down the slipway (above), Kevin Brockman watched in awe. He recalled: 'I've never seen a piece of seamanship like that. People don't realise what the weather was like that night'
The crew of eight experienced volunteer lifeboatmen were attempting to reach a stricken coaster, the Union Star, which was in danger of drifting on to rocks. (The rescue as depicted by a Penzance artist)
8am, Saturday, December 19, 1981
The 900-ton merchant ship MV Union Star is heading west along the English Channel on her maiden voyage from the Netherlands to Ireland with a cargo of fertiliser. Her skipper is 32-year-old Henry Morton and this is his first command. He has a crew of four.
Yesterday, Henry called into the port of Brightlingsea in Essex to pick up his pregnant wife Dawn, 34, and two teenage stepdaughters, Sharon and Deanne, so they could be together for Christmas.
Out in the Atlantic, a massive storm is brewing.
10am
Henry Morton's brother Malcolm calls for a chat. He asks about the weather and Henry says the wind is Force 5 and expected to deteriorate. Although the Union Star is rolling in the sea swell, he says she is performing well.
4pm
Off the Cornish coast, the Union Star's engines suddenly fail. Her engineer, George Sedgwick, heads down into the engine room to investigate. What no one knows is that seawater has got into the fuel tanks. Restarting the engines is going to be impossible.
The ship now has only low-level emergency power and so no radar, which means Morton doesn't know his exact position. The wind is getting up and the swell increasing.
Duty calls: The 47ft Solomon Browne lifeboat (pictured) rescued more than 90 people in its 21 years
6.03pm
Although George Sedgwick has failed to fix the engines, Captain Morton, an experienced sailor, judges there is no need yet to make a Mayday call.
Instead, he radios the Falmouth Coastguard. He calmly explains that his wife and stepchildren are on board and he would like a helicopter to be put on standby to rescue them if need be.
The Coastguard has radar and is able to tell Henry the Union Star is eight miles east of Wolf Rock, a lighthouse close to Land's End. The wind is gusting Force 10.
6.10pm
The Coastguard is concerned that the Union Star is drifting and in danger of being wrecked. The nearest lifeboat station is at Penlee Point, about a mile from the small fishing village of Mousehole.
The Coastguard telephones Trevelyan Richards, 56, a trawler skipper who has been coxswain of the Penlee lifeboat Solomon Browne for the past 11 years. It explains the plight of the Union Star and asks Trevelyan to put his crew on standby.
As his widowed mother, Mary, lays the table for supper, he starts phoning senior crew members to warn them they may be needed.
6.16pm
A Dutch-owned tug named the Noord Holland, based in nearby Penzance, is alerted by the Coastguard. Its captain, Johannes Buurman, radios the Union Star to offer help, as he is just a mile away.
But Morton knows that salvage companies often charge enormous fees, sometimes running into millions of pounds, just for a call-out — even if a rescue isn't needed — so he declines the offer.
Even so, he tells his employers, Union Transport, about the situation and they begin negotiations with the Dutch tug company.
The Falmouth Coastguard radios the Union Star for an update and Morton tells them: 'All he [the tug skipper] is interested in is the money at the moment. We are holding steady as we are. We don't seem to be drifting into land.'
But he is mistaken.
Real courage: Some of the crew members of the lost lifeboat Solomon Browne, who died while trying to save others
6.30pm
Nigel Brockman, the Solomon Browne's second mechanic, arrives at Trevelyan Richards's house. Trevelyan gets out his charts so they can establish exactly where the Union Star is.
Meanwhile, Coastguard Don Buckfield opens the lookout station at Gwennap Head, four miles from Land's End.
He has instructions to confirm the Union Star's location, so he gets a radar fix on the coaster and is shocked by how far north the ship has drifted; he knows that anything that hits this rocky coast will break up immediately.
7.23pm
The owners of the Noord Holland tug have reached a deal with Union Transport, so they instruct skipper Johannes Buurman to sail from Penzance and start the salvage operation.
7.41pm
The Coastguard again radios the Union Star to see if there is any change in their situation. Henry Morton no longer sounds calm.
His engineer has discovered seawater in the port fuel tank and they are planning to use the starboard tank: 'We're hoping that one is OK.' Concerned about his family, he asks if a helicopter is on its way and the Coastguard reassures him that one will be airborne shortly.7.50pm
Royal Naval Air Station Culdrose scramble a Sea King helicopter, call sign Rescue 80.
As the helicopter approaches the Union Star, the ship's crew fire a flare to guide the pilot in. Even at 400 ft the Sea King is being hit by sea spray, and the crew are alarmed that the drifting ship is now only two miles from the coast.
Concerned that the coaster is in serious danger, the Falmouth Coastguard calls Trevelyan Richards and asks him to launch the Solomon Browne immediately.
Trevelyan's mother Mary calls the launch crew to tell them to go to the boathouse and the maroon rocket is fired, alerting the lifeboat volunteers whose homes are scattered throughout the village.
7.52pm
Janet Madron, the wife of the Solomon Browne's mechanic Stephen, has a premonition that something is going to go terribly wrong and tells him she doesn't want him to go.
She later recalled: 'I'd never said anything like that before; never felt like that before.' But Stephen replies: 'I've got to go. There's women and children out there.'
Kevin Smith, 23, mutters, 'God, what a night!' as he walks into the wind and rain.
Missing at sea: The wreckage of the Union Star washed ashore
His sister Annette later said: 'The irony is that Kevin should never even have been on the shout. He was a merchant seaman with Cunard and he wasn't due to come home until the following week . . . but he arrived on December 16.'
Local fisherman Barrie Torrie, 33, and his wife Lynn have booked a babysitter for their two young sons, as they had plans to go out for the evening. As Barrie heads out of the door, he says: 'I'll see you later.' Lynn decides to meet up with their friends as planned.
Charlie Greenhaugh, the landlord of the Ship Inn, by Mousehole harbour, leaves his busy Saturday night crowd and joins the rush to the boathouse.
8pm
The pilot of Rescue 80, Lt Commander Russell Smith, can see only the Union Star's navigation lights, so he asks Captain Morton to turn on all available lights to illuminate the deck.
Morton replies: 'We've managed to get a generator started so we'll put lights on for you and see how it goes.'
Smith has more than 2,000 hours of flying experience and these are the worst weather conditions he has ever seen.
More than a dozen men have arrived at the Penlee boathouse, but only a crew of eight is needed. Trevelyan Richards picks his most experienced men for what he knows will be a difficult job.
Denis Leslie, a retired local doctor, has driven from Penzance and offers to go, but Trevelyan turns him down.
Father and son Nigel and Kevin Brockman have arrived and Trevelyan chooses Nigel over 17-year-old Kevin because of his greater experience and the coxswain's policy of not allowing two members of a family to go on the same mission.
Kevin is disappointed.
Fisherman Barrie Torrie is reluctant to wear a lifejacket, but Trevelyan insists that he wears one and he helps him get it on.
8.05pm
Henry Morton tells the Sea King crew he wants them to start taking people off the boat. Russell Smith asks: 'How many people do you plan on transferring?'
'One woman and two children,' Morton replies. The Sea King crew have no idea the skipper's family are on board. 'Sorry, say again?' says Smith. 'One woman and two children. The crew will remain on board until the last.'
8.12pm
The Solomon Browne, which in the past 21 years has rescued more than 90 people, prepares to launch.
As the 47 ft wooden lifeboat speeds down the slipway, Kevin Brockman watches in awe. He recalled: 'I've never seen a piece of seamanship like that. People don't realise what the weather was like that night.'
8.20pm
Flying above the Union Star, Rescue 80 is bravely struggling with the high winds, which have now reached hurricane strength. Its crew tell Henry Morton: 'We have a bit of sorting out of this rope before we're ready . . . we'll be another five or six minutes.'
Swinging dangerously below Rescue 80, winchman Stephen Marlow looks down at the deck of the Union Star and watches as a girl is led outside by a member of the crew to be winched to safety. Marlow notices she is wearing pink court shoes: 'They seemed so incongruous in that violent situation,' he later recalled.
Every year on December 19, the Christmas lights at Mousehole (above) are switched off for an hour, between 8pm and 9pm, to remember those who lost their lives that night
8.24pm
Waves 50 ft high are lifting the Union Star up towards the Sea King and the pilots have to take evasive action to avoid the vessel hitting their rotors. They can see that rescuing anyone from the violently pitching deck is going to be impossible.
They radio the ship: 'Union Star — this is looking too difficult. We're getting very close to your mast and we don't have a long enough line.'
Morton says courteously: 'OK. Very much obliged for your assistance. Going to put an anchor down.' It is a desperate measure, as the Union Star is now less than a mile from the cliffs.
8.47pm
The Solomon Browne has arrived on the scene after a perilous journey from Penlee Point. Coxswain Trevelyan Richards radios the Union Star, asking if they want the lifeboat to come alongside so they can rescue the women and children.
Henry Morton replies: 'Yes please, the helicopter is having a bit of difficulty getting to us . . . I'd be very much obliged.'
Morton is struggling to control his ship and, despite the anchor, the Union Star is still heading towards land.
8.54pm
The Solomon Browne again urgently radios the Union Star: 'Advise you with crew, everybody to come off, over.'
'Yes, we're all coming off,' Morton replies.
The Noord Holland is now also on the scene. Skipper, Johannes Buurman can see he is too late to save the Union Star. He and his crew can only watch as the lifeboat attempts to rescue the passengers and crew.
Back in Mousehole, Janet Madron is listening to the rescue unfold on a radio scanner. She cooks dinner for her husband Stephen, the Solomon Browne's mechanic, and puts it in the oven to keep it hot. But as she opens the oven door, she thinks: 'He's not coming back to eat this.'
9pm
Trevelyan Richards has managed to manoeuvre the lifeboat alongside the pitching Union Star and his crew are throwing grappling hooks on to the ship in a desperate attempt to secure the two vessels. Russell Smith, the pilot of Rescue 80, watches the boiling green water with concern — the Union Star is now only 300 yards from the rocks.
He recalled: 'The Penlee crew never appeared to hesitate. After each time they were washed, blown or bumped away from the casualty vessel, the lifeboat immediately commenced another run-in.
'Their spirit and dedication was amazing, considering the horrific hurricane seas and the constant pounding they were taking. They were the bravest eight men I've ever seen.'
9.10pm
Local journalist Andrew Besley, who knows the crew of the Solomon Browne well, is watching from the top of a nearby cliff. To his horror, he sees a colossal wave pick up the lifeboat and drop it across the deck of the Union Star.
Russell Smith, in the Sea King, fears both vessels will capsize, but the Solomon Browne slides off the deck and Trevelyan Richards somehow steers the lifeboat alongside once more.
9.15pm
Time is running out. Trevelyan radios the Union Star to tell them that in ten minutes they will be on the rocks. The Sea King crew watch dark figures in fluorescent orange lifejackets run across the deck of the Union Star and jump into the arms of the lifeboat crew.
A large wave then hits the Solomon , but she miraculously surfaces on the other side 'like a submarine', in the words of Russell Smith. The helicopter crew watch the Solomon Browne head out to sea, assuming they are heading home, mission accomplished.
They decide they can do no more and turn the Sea King towards RAF Culdrose.
9.21pm
On board the Solomon Browne, the crew realise they haven't rescued everyone from the Union Star. They decide to go back.
The lifeboat's mechanic, Stephen Madron, comes on the radio to speak to the Coastguard.
At their home in Mousehole, his wife Janet, listening on the radio scanner, hears her husband say, out of breath: 'This is the Penlee Lifeboat. Penlee Lifeboat calling Falmouth Coastguard. We got four men off — look, hang on — we got four off at the moment, male and female. There's two left on board . . .'
Then there is a loud noise and Stephen is cut off.
On the Noord Holland tug, Johannes Buurman sees the lights of the Union Star and the Solomon Browne go out. The Coastguard radios the Solomon Browne: 'Penlee Lifeboat. Penlee Lifeboat. Falmouth Coastguard. Over . . .' But there is no reply.
Midnight
Coastguard rescue parties find fragments of blue-painted wreckage at the foot of the cliffs and spot an RNLI lifejacket, with its light still on, floating in the water. Pieces of oilskin and an orange bobble hat are also recovered.
Fishing boats and neighbouring lifeboats join the search out at sea. Radio messages from the search parties fill the airwaves: 'Can you hear us, Trevelyan?' 'What is your position?' 'Do you need help?' 'Shall we come out, Trev?'
The Union Star is found upside down in a cove and paint from the Solomon Browne can be seen on her guard rails.
Aftermath
There were no survivors that night and only some of the 16 bodies were recovered. Kevin Brockman, turned down by Trevelyan for being too young, reported back for duty just two days later. 'It's in your blood and you can't escape it,' he said.
Within days, the RNLI had enough volunteers to form a new crew.
Almost everyone in the village of Mousehole and its surrounds knew someone on board the Solomon Brown, and the tragedy that befell the community just before Christmas — the loss of husbands, brothers, sons, and 12 young children left without fathers — struck a chord worldwide.
In 1983, an official investigation took evidence from more than 50 witnesses and concluded that no one was to blame for the tragedy. The loss of the Union Star had been caused by the failure of the coaster's engines and the 'extreme severity of the weather'.
Some of the families of the Solomon Browne crew criticised the conclusions, feeling that lives would have been saved if the lifeboat had been launched sooner.
Since then, the Coastguard has been given powers to initiate a Mayday and to require a ship's captain to take a tow.
Trevelyan Richards was posthumously awarded the RNLI's Gold Medal for Gallantry and each member of his crew the Bronze Medal for their courage and devotion to duty.
Forty years on, their sacrifice has not been forgotten. A memorial close to the Penlee Lifeboat Station bears the names of all the lost crew, under the motto 'Service Not Self'.
And every year on December 19, the Christmas lights at Mousehole are switched off for an hour, between 8pm and 9pm, to remember those who lost their lives that night.
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