In the meantime the entire crew of the vessel had climbed into the rigging, to prevent being swept overboard by the deluge of water that swept the decks of the fast breaking up craft. Then the men one by one jumped from the rigging into the wild surf and were pulled into the surf boat; all but one man of the crew made it. Then the somewhat overloaded boat was headed through the breakers for the shore. Just as the boat rode the last wave at the shore it was again overturned, but twenty men on the shore stood ready and the crew of the schooner and the Coast Guardsmen were snatched from the surf. By noon of the following day all that remained of the Jackson were broken spars and deck houses scattered along the sands of the beach. LOSS OF THE NUMBER 238 On the morning of February 18th, 1927, a northeast storm was developing on the North Atlantic coast and white-capped waves were driving towards the shore all the way from Chatham to Race Point. The Coast Guard cruiser No. 238, one of the smaller boats of this fleet engaged in patrolling the coast for the purpose of intercepting rum runners, was several miles off Nantucket Lightship. This boat had rendezvous at Provincetown and those on board, recognizing that a gale of unusual violence was rapidly approaching the coast, the return of the boat to port should be immediate. So the officers of the cruiser felt that as a matter of safety all possible speed should be made for Provincetown Harbor. The boat made good time up the coast in the ever increasing gale which drove water in torrents over her decks. When she had reached a position one mile east of the Peaked Hills Buoy, suddenly her engines went dead and she became a helpless, drifting craft. Every possible effort was made to repair the engine without avail. On board the stricken craft they signalled to the Highland Coast Guard Station and asked that help be sent to them. Conditions of wind and sea grew constantly worse. Soon the darkness of night came on and from the disabled boat signal lights flashed every little while telling of the seriousness of their condition. These signals were seen and understood by the Highland Coast Guard crew. It was seen that the boat was being driven nearer and nearer the sea-swept sand bars. Over the dark and rushing sea came to those on shore by the flashing signals this message: “We are helpless; both anchors are down but they do not hold us and we are slowly but surely going to our destruction; unless you can send help we must surely perish.” Telephone and telegraph messages were hurriedly sent to the authorities in Boston, and a large ship was dispatched from the Navy Yard at Charlestown, but she had not proceeded two miles beyond Boston Light, when, from the fury of the storm, she, too, broke down and had a struggle to get back to shelter, coming dangerously near to foundering herself.