Waterbury Democrat., 1903-01-22
{ In Time of Storm and Wreck < <

New York as the railroad runs, and that is about as the crows fly.
 The unpretentious one-story frame station house, capped by little box like lookout, is surrounded by trio of dwellings, doll house in propor- tions, in which live as many families of life-savers. The only other evil dences of habitation on the sandy stretch are two or three unpainted storage sheds and a flag signal pole towering over the squat buildings within it's shadow.
 From Shinnecock bay, which sep arates the beach from the mainland to the north, the whole station is clearly visible on fair day across the four-mile stretch of water; but let one take up his stand on the oceans edge, 50 yards to the south of the station, and look northward and he will see naught of human handiwork except the top of the fagpole-that and an abruptly ris- ing ridge of sand.
 This ridge, which is pure golden and silvery and iron red by turns, continues almost centrally along the beach as far as eye. can see to east and west. and it has the peculiar property of keeping the noises of the sea from out the ears of the Shinne- cock life-savers, except on the storm jest of nights, when the gale is blowing great guns from the south.
 It was on such a winters night that the two occupants of an an- cient catboat. baffled in their at tempts to reach the mainland across Shinnecock bay, ran the boat over the flats until it's bottom grated and held fast on the stand. Then jump ing into the knee-deep water they tugged and pulled the boat after them until it was beached.
 After that they made the craft safe from the storm, and a little while later set their faces toward the gale-driven rain and breasted their way to the station house.
 They threw open the door just as the life-savers were sitting down to meal of salt pork, boiled cabbage and hot coffee, served on table hid den under a piece of clean oil cloth.
 As the visitors sat down the heat from the wood fire in the big cooking stove back of them quickly dried their drcnched clothing and skins, so that when the last of the mounds of food had disappeared from the plat ters and pipes had been lighted and chairs tilted comfortably back against walls, they were in fitting mood to show interest in Capt. Alan son Penny's "reminiscences.
 Bad night, but clear weather alongside the night when the schoon- CT Louis V. Place went ashore off the Lone Hill station about four years ago." he began.
 He took deep puff at his pipe.
 Maybe you'd care to hear about it?" All right; yes-yes.
 Ut was around about midnight when the Louis V. Place was blown on the bar. Capt. Sam Baker and his crew were down at the shore in a jiffy with the beach apparatus. for they knew thnt quick work was need- ed to save men grounded in such 8 sea. 'They shot out the line. and it wouldn't hold. They shot out the line again and it wouldn't hold; and they shot it out time after time, but it wouldn't hold, for the schooner was rolling so frightfully that none of the sailors dared come out of the rigging to make it fast.
 SThere was nothing to do except to wait for the wind to die down. They waited two days and nights be- side the beach fires, which lit up the faces of the freezing sailors, and as they waited and watched this man and that, frozen beyond further en- durance, let go his hold and fell into the sea.
 "On the second night they saw one man, armed with a rope's end, beat two of the men near him to keep them awake and from freezing. The next day the sea died down, the ice broke and the surf boat was finally worked to the side of the schooner, but not before the man who had whipped the others to keep them alive had fallen into the sea.
 ''The two survivors were brought ashore and one died shortly after. The other I'm told, lived, but he was amputated all to pieces, nearly.
 ''When it was all over Capt. Baker, who was half crazy all the time he was powerless to rescue the sailors, went to pieces and died few weeks later. He died of a broken heart died because he had not been able to save the eight sailors who froze be- fore his eyes. And these are the last words he said before he died: God pity the poor boys out wonder in the rigging" ,. Capt. Penny struck match and as he relighted his pipe, he said be- tween short puffs:
 "Tell them about Nipsy, Carter"
 Charles A. Carter is No. at the shinnecock station, where he has pa- trolled the beach for 25 years. He reached down at his side and patted a medium-sized black dog on the head.
 "This is Nipsy," he said "He's a cross between spaniel and bull, and