Nostalgia: How Maddick's man was almost marooned

The wind howled and the waves crashed against the hull of the Excel as skipper William John Browse Harley peered into the darkness.

It was a fierce gale that November night in 1908, but Harley was determined to bring his crew safely back to port in Brixham. 

Suddenly, the lookout shouted and pointed off the starboard bow. Squinting, Harley could just make out the outline of another vessel, its sails shredded, and mast snapped, being tossed about in the turbulent sea. It was the Aunt Mary out of Plymouth, and she was in serious trouble.

"Ready the lines, lads!" Harley bellowed to his crew over the roaring wind. "We've got to get them off that wreck before she founders!"

For the next four gruelling hours, Harley and his men fought to get close enough to the stricken Aunt Mary to pass over the rescue ropes. Time and again they were beaten back by the mountainous waves and screaming gale. The Excel pitched and rolled violently, her timbers groaning under the strain. 

Below decks, the crew hung on for dear life, battered and soaked to the bone by the frigid seawater that crashed over the rails. But Harley never wavered, his hands steady on the wheel and his eyes fixed on the Aunt Mary. He knew those fishermen – they were his brothers out there. He would not abandon them to the merciless sea.

At last, with a tremendous effort, the Excel's crew managed to get a line across to the Aunt Mary. One by one, the exhausted Plymouth fishermen made the perilous crossing between the heaving vessels until only the skipper, Samuel Briggs, was left aboard. 

Harley watched anxiously as Briggs struggled to secure himself to the rescue line. The Aunt Mary was being inexorably swept towards the jagged rocks of the Mew Stone. There were only moments to spare before she would be dashed to pieces.

With a cry of desperation, Briggs launched himself off the sinking boat, but a massive wave caught him and ripped the line from his grasp. He disappeared beneath the churning foam. Harley felt his heart seize. He could not let Briggs perish, not when they were so close to saving him.

"Hard to port!" Harley roared, spinning the wheel. "We're going to ram her!"

His crew looked at him in shock, but Harley's face was set with grim determination. With an awful splintering of wood, the Excel crashed into the side of the Aunt Mary just as another colossal wave lifted her stern high out of the water. 

Briggs appeared, clinging to the rail. With a final burst of strength, he hurled himself across the narrow gap and landed heavily on the Excel's deck. The crew erupted in cheers, and Harley felt weak with relief. 

Barely had Briggs scrambled to safety when the Aunt Mary's stern crashed down again, the force of the impact causing the Excel to shudder from stem to stern. Harley wrenched the wheel around, and the trawler surged forward, the remains of the Aunt Mary vanishing into the tempest behind them.

The Excel limped back into Brixham harbour the next morning; her exhausted crew hailed as heroes by the waiting townspeople. Harley, his face lined with fatigue, shook the hand of Samuel Briggs as they stood on the quay.

"I owe you my life, skipper," Briggs said hoarsely. "You and your men. I'll not forget it."

Harley nodded humbly. "You'd have done the same for us," he replied. "It's what we do. Fishermen look out for each other."

A week later, in a grand ceremony, the mayor of Plymouth presented Harley and each of his crew members with an inscribed marble clock and a purse of gold in recognition of their valour. But for Harley, the greatest reward was the knowledge that he and his men had saved five lives that terrible night. 

It was a testament to the courage and solidarity of the Brixham fishing fleet, a brotherhood forged in the face of the unforgiving sea. Harley knew there would be more storms to weather, more perils to brave. But with stout ships like the Excel and steadfast comrades at his side, he would always stand ready to answer the call of those in need.