A Cliff Rescue at Lamb’s Well

by Michael Llewellyn







Michael Llewellyn

It was a cold day in February or March 1944, or perhaps 1945. I remember the occasion well, but the date fails me, I was eleven or twelve years of age. Keith and I had been exploring the beach at Lamb’s Well and we decided to return to the cliff path by scrambling up the cliff instead of following the track to the cliff top. Half way up Keith looked down, panicked and froze. As he wouldn¹t move, it was necessary to get help so I left him and climbed down, then ran up the track to the path and on to the Coast Guard Station at the Tut.

I can remember the cold air in my lungs as I ran as fast as I could. On hearing what had happened a large Coast Guard, clad as I recall in a peaked cap, blue serge uniform and large black boots, accompanied me as we hurried back to Lamb’s Well.

Keith was still clinging desperately to the cliff. The Coast Guard and I climbed up to him and, reassured by the presence of a kindly adult, he was assisted to climb down. All was now well, and although cold and a little shaken, Keith was none the worse for the experience. Having taken our names and addresses, the Coast Guard sent us home, no doubt warning us to be more careful when playing on the cliffs.

The next day I went down with a heavy cold, probably due to my exertions on a very cold day. I was recovering in bed when a day or two later, a uniformed police constable called to take a statement. Apparently the Coast Guard had been recommended for an award for his gallant cliff rescue and more information was needed. I can remember the policeman sitting at my bedside as I told him what had happened and how I had run all the way to the Tut and how the Coast Guard had climbed up the cliff to rescue Keith.

The policeman wrote it all down.

‘Where were you when the Coast Guard climbed the cliff?’ he asked, looking slightly thoughtful.

I explained that I was alongside him on the cliff.

‘You mean you climbed up as well?’ asked the policeman.

‘Well yes’, I replied, it being obvious to me.

‘Oh well’, said the policeman,

‘I don’t suppose we need to mention that’!

by Michael Llewellyn,

Who was the great-great-grandson of Benjamin Llewellyn, Lighthouse Keeper, who initially held the post from October 1794 (the year he married Catherine Williams).

More: My mother was an Air Raid Warden at Thistleboon by Michael Llewellyn