Today is the best day to see the wreck. I’ve woken early to a blustery day. The wind is howling up the three flights of my narrow Edwardian terrace which sits a couple of streets back from the sea front. If I was to open my window I would hear the high tide roaring competitively with the wind. It’s early morning and I’m having the usual weekend debate of staying snug between the sheets or venturing out to catch the sunrise. From my window night slides into day with buffeting clouds of leaden grey.
It was the 9th January 1917 the SS Fernebo got into difficulties, almost the same date as this weekend. For the last three days, the sea has rolled back its waves to reveal the wrecked remains. It was an icy January night into day, coupled with a ferocious storm. I shiver as I let the cat out and although the sun has risen to fringe the sky with orange, the force of the wind blows me back into the kitchen, the cat dipping back under my legs into the calm warmth.
The chill spreads through my body as I think of men out at sea, those men who head into the storm not away from it. Men often make it easy for us to moan about them, but this courage they show- this raw courage which reveals itself like a low tide in times of challenge,- takes my breath away. With ropes they dragged a boat they could not launch due to the overpowering conditions and rowed out,with oars breaking, to rescue all but one who had died in the blast of a rogue mine or engine fire which had split the hold in two. These life boat men, rightly awarded medals for bravery were not even young, with most of the youngest and fittest facing a man-made fury: war. Some of the crew from the Fernebo had tried to launch their own dinghy but floundered against the force of the waves and were rescued by the bravery from ordinary citizens of the town who formed a human chain to pull them back to land.
It is later; the clouds have lifted to treat us to a bright crisp winter’s day and I stand in front of the wreck as the tide rolls back in to let the memory sink into the sand for another year
Cromer Sea & Sound 