A thrilling and graphic account of this wreck and rescue is given in the Reverend John Gilmore's book, "Storm Warriors," in which he tells us that while this exciting work was going on, the _Aid_ lay head to wind, steaming half power, and holding her own against the storm, waiting for her lifeboat, but no lifeboat returned to her, and her gallant captain became more and more anxious as time flew by. Could it be possible that her sturdy little comrade, with whom she had gone out to battle in hundreds of gales, was overcome at last and destroyed! They signalled again and again, but got no reply. Then, as their fears increased, they began to cruise about as near to the dangerous shoals as they dared-- almost playing with death--as they eagerly sought for their consort. At last the conviction was forced upon them that the boat must have been stove by the wreck and swamped. In the midst of their gathering despair they caught sight of the lightship's bright beam, shining like a star of hope through the surrounding darkness. With a faint hope they made for the vessel and hailed her. "Have you seen anything of the lifeboat?" was the eager question. "Nothing! nothing!" was the sad reply. Back they went again to the place they had left, determined to cruise on, hoping against hope, till the night should pass away. Hour after hour they steamed hither and thither, with anxiously straining eyes. At last grey dawn appeared and the wreck became dimly visible. They made for it, and their worst fears were realised--the remnant of the brig's hull was there with ropes and wreckage tossing wildly round it--but no lifeboat! Sadly they turned away and continued to search for some time in the faint hope that some of her crew might be floating about, buoyed up by their lifebelts, but none were found, and at last they reluctantly made for the harbour. And when the harbour was gained what saw they there? The lifeboat! safe and sound, floating as calmly beside the pier as if nothing had happened! As the captain of the _Aid_ himself said, he felt inclined at once to shout and cry for wonder, and we may be sure that his wonder was not decreased when he heard the lifeboat's story from the brave coxswain's lips--how that, after driving right across the sands, as I have described, they suddenly found themselves in deep water. That then, knowing the extremity of danger to be past, they had set the sails, and, soon after, had, through God's mercy, landed the rescued Portuguese crew in Ramsgate Harbour! It must not be imagined, however, that such work as this can be done without great cost to those who undertake it.