22 Sqn A Flt, 50 Years ago
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22 Sqn A Flt, 50 Years ago
Flt Sgt Eric Smith, 22 Squadron A Flt, RAF Chivenor, 1962.
Miracle of sea drama recalled as hero winchman returns for Olympic relay | This is Cornwall
HF
Miracle of sea drama recalled as hero winchman returns for Olympic relay | This is Cornwall
A hero of one of the most sensational of Cornish sea rescues will be returning to Land's End next week to carry the Olympic torch – 50 years after he helped pluck fishermen from death's jaws.
Eric Smith will carry the flame at Land's End on May 19 – the first day of the relay's 8000-mile route. With him on the Cornish visit will be his wife Jean, family and friends.
A half-century ago, on November 3 in 1962, as a 26-year-old flight sergeant, Mr Smith was winchman on the three-man crew of an RAF helicopter that hovered above fierce seas sweeping over the wreck of the 273-ton Dieppe trawler, Jeanne Gougy. Twelve lives were lost in the incident, but six were found to have survived long after all hope for them was gone.
The six men had fought for their lives for seven hours while breakers surged over the vessel and buried her under hundreds of tons of water.
Then came the miracle. As the tide receded, a single hand was seen at the wheelhouse. Four crewmen were brought out by breeches buoy in a remarkable coastguard operation.
When the helicopter arrived from RAF Chivenor, Eric went down on a harness and, in alarming conditions, brought up two Breton fishermen on a strop. It was the first rescue by a Westland Whirlwind Mark 10 helicopter, which boasted a jet engine instead of the former pistons.
Eric received the George Medal from the Queen Mother at Buckingham Palace for his bravery, while the helicopter crew was awarded the Chevalier Merite Maritime from the French Government. His latest honour is to be chosen as one of 7000 people nationwide to take part in the Olympic relay, having been nominated by one of his sons.
Recalling the events of 1962, he said: "When we came in that morning and heard of the wreck we had to persuade the officers to take a look. It was thought at the time all were lost – the trawler had gone ashore in the storm and darkness at about 1am and was considered a total wreck. We went down to keep an eye on it.
"It was sunk, a wreck. The seas were over it most of the time and it was only possible to see about 20 per cent of it as the tide receded. We hovered over when we got there. There was no sign of life and we flew around the area and recovered two bodies. We decided it was a clean-up operation and not a rescue.
"By then we were running out of fuel. It was late morning. We went to Culdrose to fill up and while we were having a coffee there came the message that someone was alive on the wreck. We thought 'no way' but were only five minutes away and the tanks were full of fuel. We got over the scene and saw a man waving at us from the wheelhouse.
"At the same time, the coastguards had the breeches buoy in action and were pulling someone up.
"I sat on the edge of the helicopter door and it was terrifying and I quickly realised the only way was to go down myself. Coming to terms with my fears, I committed myself to going down – it was pretty frightening with the boat swamped by the waves. But it was the right thing to do because the fisherman in the wheelhouse was on his last legs.
"I shouted 'there is another man in the wreck'. He thought he was the only survivor but I knew differently. We took the first fisherman to the cliffs and then had to come back again into the wind. I knew the score: that I could get on the ship and get the second man.
"The third time I went into the wheelhouse I discovered there were two passages, one on each side of the bridge. I crawled along one. I was told not to get off the cable. That was an order. I crawled along into the radio room and found it full of black oily water. I shouted 'Ullo, Ullo, this is the RAF'. I could hear the ship's plates buckling on the rocks and decided discretion was the better part of valour. It was too narrow to turn and was full of green sea water so I shuffled backwards out into the wheelhouse.
"I stood astride on the spokes of the wheel – rocking with the wheel – but my cable had tangled on it. I pulled, but it wouldn't come free and I was just about to tell the crew to cut the cable when I gave it one more try and dived under the water, got it free and threw it out of the wheelhouse. Up I came to the Whirlwind. Again I was lowered and looked for any sign of life, but there was none."
In all five bodies were recovered. Twelve were dead and six rescued. Eric received letters of thanks from the families of those he rescued but has never met the fishermen since.
Eric, who now lives in Woking, will carry the torch for 300 metres at Land's End. And even at 76, he expects it to be a doddle compared to the role he played at the same spot 50 years ago.
Eric Smith will carry the flame at Land's End on May 19 – the first day of the relay's 8000-mile route. With him on the Cornish visit will be his wife Jean, family and friends.
A half-century ago, on November 3 in 1962, as a 26-year-old flight sergeant, Mr Smith was winchman on the three-man crew of an RAF helicopter that hovered above fierce seas sweeping over the wreck of the 273-ton Dieppe trawler, Jeanne Gougy. Twelve lives were lost in the incident, but six were found to have survived long after all hope for them was gone.
The six men had fought for their lives for seven hours while breakers surged over the vessel and buried her under hundreds of tons of water.
Then came the miracle. As the tide receded, a single hand was seen at the wheelhouse. Four crewmen were brought out by breeches buoy in a remarkable coastguard operation.
When the helicopter arrived from RAF Chivenor, Eric went down on a harness and, in alarming conditions, brought up two Breton fishermen on a strop. It was the first rescue by a Westland Whirlwind Mark 10 helicopter, which boasted a jet engine instead of the former pistons.
Eric received the George Medal from the Queen Mother at Buckingham Palace for his bravery, while the helicopter crew was awarded the Chevalier Merite Maritime from the French Government. His latest honour is to be chosen as one of 7000 people nationwide to take part in the Olympic relay, having been nominated by one of his sons.
Recalling the events of 1962, he said: "When we came in that morning and heard of the wreck we had to persuade the officers to take a look. It was thought at the time all were lost – the trawler had gone ashore in the storm and darkness at about 1am and was considered a total wreck. We went down to keep an eye on it.
"It was sunk, a wreck. The seas were over it most of the time and it was only possible to see about 20 per cent of it as the tide receded. We hovered over when we got there. There was no sign of life and we flew around the area and recovered two bodies. We decided it was a clean-up operation and not a rescue.
"By then we were running out of fuel. It was late morning. We went to Culdrose to fill up and while we were having a coffee there came the message that someone was alive on the wreck. We thought 'no way' but were only five minutes away and the tanks were full of fuel. We got over the scene and saw a man waving at us from the wheelhouse.
"At the same time, the coastguards had the breeches buoy in action and were pulling someone up.
"I sat on the edge of the helicopter door and it was terrifying and I quickly realised the only way was to go down myself. Coming to terms with my fears, I committed myself to going down – it was pretty frightening with the boat swamped by the waves. But it was the right thing to do because the fisherman in the wheelhouse was on his last legs.
"I shouted 'there is another man in the wreck'. He thought he was the only survivor but I knew differently. We took the first fisherman to the cliffs and then had to come back again into the wind. I knew the score: that I could get on the ship and get the second man.
"The third time I went into the wheelhouse I discovered there were two passages, one on each side of the bridge. I crawled along one. I was told not to get off the cable. That was an order. I crawled along into the radio room and found it full of black oily water. I shouted 'Ullo, Ullo, this is the RAF'. I could hear the ship's plates buckling on the rocks and decided discretion was the better part of valour. It was too narrow to turn and was full of green sea water so I shuffled backwards out into the wheelhouse.
"I stood astride on the spokes of the wheel – rocking with the wheel – but my cable had tangled on it. I pulled, but it wouldn't come free and I was just about to tell the crew to cut the cable when I gave it one more try and dived under the water, got it free and threw it out of the wheelhouse. Up I came to the Whirlwind. Again I was lowered and looked for any sign of life, but there was none."
In all five bodies were recovered. Twelve were dead and six rescued. Eric received letters of thanks from the families of those he rescued but has never met the fishermen since.
Eric, who now lives in Woking, will carry the torch for 300 metres at Land's End. And even at 76, he expects it to be a doddle compared to the role he played at the same spot 50 years ago.
HF
Last edited by huntaluvva; 18th May 2012 at 22:16.
