The Ghostly Galleon

This short Story is dedicated to my father John Bobin (a retired Lifeboat man himself), to all his fellow lifeboat men, and all others who go down to the sea in ships to save lives.


It was a cold winters night. A storm raged and thrashed about the Cornish coastline that night. Peter settled into his favorite armchair to watch the football match on his television. His wife Jane brought him in a cup of tea. Just as she settled down Peter's pager vibrated and the phone rang. It was the coastguard service. The lifeboat was needed because a fishing vessel named the "Saucy Sue" had sent out a 'may day' call reporting that her her engines had failed. Peter rushed to gather his bag and made his way to the car for the short journey to the lifeboat house.

As he arrived the maroons were being set off, to summon the crew most of whom were already there. It was very foggy. The crew could hear the moan of the lighthouse foghorn warning ships of the approaching danger as they made ready to slip the moorings. Peter the coxswain, called to his crew "Lets go everyone". The lifeboat was soon on passage, passing the Castles on either side of the harbour entrance guarding it. Once outside the safety of the harbour, the lifeboat began to pitch and toss in the high seas off the Falmouth coast. A violent storm raged around the Cornish coast that night. The crew silently looked at each other. It was one of the worst storms they had known. The wind whined and gusted around the coast that night singing its own tale of woe. The thunder crashed and rumbled around the heavens. The lightening flashed illuminating the night sky casting eerie shadows upon the sea.

The huge waves caused the Lifeboat to pitch and toss, like a piece of discarded rubbish upon the high seas. The sea boiled and raged venting its anger in its own way. Like a cat o' nine tales, which was used to punish sailors in the days of old, yhe gales sent salt spray everywhere, stinging the skin and eyes of the crew's faces. The brave men who dared to venture out that night, wondered when they would return to the calm and safety of the harbour and their supper. The crew then began their systematic search patterns of the bay. Quadrant by quadrant they searched for the stricken vessel who's 'may day' call they had come to answer. The crew was feeling both physically and mentally exhausted from their long tiring search. It proved to be fruitless, not even a lump of drift wood was had been found. The coxswain who is in constant touch with the coastguard service asked to call off the search until day break. The crew was preparing to make the journey home, when the lifeboat was stuck by lightening. The crewman in charge of communications shouted his report to the coxswain. The news was't good. The last lightening strike had rendered the ships radio and compass useless.

"Are you sure?" shouted the coxswain.
"Definitely" replied the crewman as he watched the lifeboat's compass swing aimlessly to and fro. The severity of the storm had damaged it all. The crew was worried that they would by late, and not make it back in time for their pasty supper.
Peter, the coxswain, was not to be beaten by these events. He explained the situation to the crew, "All is not lost lads, we can get home by instinct like, just they did in the old days. We'll make it back in time for supper!" Peter could almost smell Jane's pasty baking. He also hoped she had recorded the rest of the football match for him, he was dying to know the result of the game.

Peter alerted his crew to the imminent danger approaching them. The treacherous 'Black Rock' would be upon them soon. They would need all their vigilance to negotiate the approaching danger. The crew was stationed at various points about the lifeboat, some shaking with the cold and wet, but all were alert. Their nerves were drawn as tight as an archers bow. Silently, they obeyed the coxswain and began to feel their way home using their instincts as Peter had asked. Suddenly, out of nowhere and from astern came a galleon in full sail! The crew could scarcely believe their eyes. Convinced now that they had met their fate, they prepared to die. Peter not one to give in easily swung the ship's wheel hard to starboard to try and avoid the huge vessel. The galleon dwarfed the Lifeboat as it sailed safely past and back into the foggy night.

Once everyone had gathered their composure, and took stock of the situation, they discovered much to their relief that the treacherous 'Black Rock' had been avoided; the old galleon had actually saved their lives. Peter could hardly believe it himself after what had just occurred. An old memory began to resurface. He remembered that his great grandfather Walter, a lifeboat coxswain himself, had told him a tale of a ghostly galleon that came to the aid of stricken vessels during bad storms.

The 'Tale' was about how a galleon, appeared out of nowhere, to steer shipping away from the 'Black Rock'. Folklore has it told that this galleon was bound for Falmouth when it foundered badly in a storm. A team of fit, healthy young men had rowed out to save who and what they could from the stricken vessel. They tried to save the skipper but he insisted on staying with his ship and went down with her. Before he disappeared, it was said that he vowed to help lifeboat men and men in peril upon the seas, as he would never ever forget the heroic deeds of these brave young men.

As a child, Peter had never believed this tale and put it down to his great grandfather drinking of too much brackish rum. Now for the first time in his life, he realized the old man was telling the truth for all those years. Peter himself came from a long line of lifeboat men. He decided after the events of that night to tell the story to his own children and grand children. Who knew how many of them would become lifeboat crew themselves one day. Now back within the safety of the harbour, the crew's spirits lifted. As tired as they were they managed to crack the odd joke and think about hot baths and pasties, and greetings from the loved ones. But most of all, they were dying to tell their version of the events that had happened that awful, stormy night.

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